Long In memory Poems
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Each midnight glow is like this fleeting stone
And I, although I cherish, cannot steal
Or thrust on shore to hold until it’s grown
Below the tides of eve that plunge shall reel.
I stand as each crest scoops into the deep
And vanishes like jeweled drops of breath
To lie with mother pearls I couldn’t keep
For tiny are hand stems to grip their depth.
So now and then I wish that I may dip
Into the twirling wavelets with my arms
And haul pink mollusks which slide from my grip;
For in their husks, the pearl of Orient charms.
If midnight enthralls me into her sea
Oh, gems I touch only in memory.
by nette onclaud
for Put Your Best Rhyme Forward Contest
The world is avoid
no new color just tones
of ashes and soot
a dark building sharp in focus
softer vision feeling the displacement of time
Like the MESSENGER's wings
I sweep away the dust of time
the dust of fear
as this world collides
no words can tell
just sensations of frost-wintry white
chilling are my visions
a movie hall dark at night
standing delicately in the shadows
of a hard midnight
harsh in memory soft of world
hard insight
dust n cobwebs
my memory collects
clinging to everything
as my world collides
my earth is in desolation tones
of ash n bone
aq dark city on the horizon, running, running...
returning, returning to a stop
along the seams of oblivion
how long is this corridor of time
lingering on desolation's boulevard
as worlds collide
Dedicated in memory of Mr Dangerfield, Rodney.
He was a comic few will ever forget.
He is most known probably for his classic routine;
"I Don't Get No Respect.
When I was born the doctor delivered to my parents the very sad news.
"We tried everything, but I'm sorry, he managed to pull through."
I Don't Get No Respect.
I remember taking my first steps so vividly
and then dear old Dad tripping me.
I Don't Get No Respect.
I asked Dad if I could go ice skating on the lake with all of the others.
He then said to me, "Wait until it gets warmer."
I Don't Get No Respect.
My mother practiced this form of birth control constantly.
Whenever Dad wanted sex, she'd show him a picture of me.
I Don't Get No Respect.
"I lost my parents. Do you think we'll ever find them?" I cried.
"I don't know," said the policeman, "There's so many places they can hide."
I Don't Get No Respect.
In the kidnapper's note to my parents for ransom
it read, "Give us five thousand dollars or you'll see your kid again."
I Don't Get No Respect.
Last night, my wife wearing a sexy negligee met me at our front door all alone.
There's just one problem with this scenario. She was coming home.
I Don't Get No Respect.
My wife phoned and said, "Come on over. There's nobody home."
When I arrived, guess what? There was nobody home.
I Don't Get No Respect.
During sex my wife always wants to talk to me.
She called me from a hotel recently.
I Don't Get No Respect.
One day I came home from work early
and saw a man run naked jogging past me.
I asked, "Why are you jogging naked buddy?"
He replied, "Because you came home early."
I Don't Get No Respect.
"What'll ya have?" the bartender asked me.
Indecisive I replied, "Just surprise me."
So he pulled out a naked photo of my wife for me to see.
I Don't Get No Respect.
I went to a hooker, thinking it might be nice.
When I dropped my pants, she dropped her price.
I Don't Get No Respect.
My psychiatrist said that I'm going crazy.
"I'd like a second opinion," I replied to she.
"Very well," she said, "You're also ugly."
I Don't Get No Respect
I told my psychiatrist, "I'm going to kill myself when I get the chance."
She told me I'll have to start paying her well in advance.
I Don't Get No Respect.
No Respect At All.
I've had enough of all of this.
This is my final curtain call."
(In Memory of my Mother who
journeys beyond earthly shores.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A sad, sad day if I must say:
Your simple stay ended today.
In sleepy stay, you took to bed
Dreaming of days which now have fled.
Unlocked the door to see you sleep;
No stirring snore, no sigh so deep.
I rushed to check if you're okay;
No pulse, no speck or stir to stay.
A sudden gush of urgent stare;
Dial police rush to report fare.
So many flings of moment's past,
Pictures and things blur yet outlast.
A helpless feel plunged heart made sad;
Death comes to chill -- breath turned to bad.
Your wrinkled face etched four score scents;
Plus six years grace ere quest now spent.
No words can tell or measure how --
Your tale you tell right here and now.
So much anguish beyond sad ways;
Poise now languished, purged sacred stay.
No more sad pain, no lonely days
Or harsh refrains -- no more replays.
Your wrinkled face speaks of old age;
Struggles you graced in life's harsh stage.
The day's over for strife and pain;
Life's twin hovers: death speaks most plain.
The time has come to take you home;
A sacred psalm to rest not roam.
Leon Enriquez
24 June 2014
Singapore
(Note: This is a short version of
a longer piece which I wrote last
year on 25 June, a day after my
late mother died at her home
in her sleep.)
It`s always inspiring to be strong in appearance,
Brave to catch up the essentiality of the sun.
How marvelous the wind blows to beat the sensations as one.
Yes, the pride is deep for BLACK skin to have fun.
The complexion is natural to be undermined,
Are you black?
Don`t be left in deceptive truck.
The image of black soothes what is meant of beauty.
Beauty that empowers the black skin to mindfully brag.
Beauty which carries protective substances against crack,
In fact, the beauty which possess a unique mark.
It`s all about black skin.
What are the definitions of black skin?
The skin which is naturally rich in melanin,
Black skin shields the body from folate depletion,
Making rightful protection against ultraviolet with adorable colouration.
Even in the heat of savannas, black skin provides cooling mechanism which develop more efficient perspiration.
If you think “BLEACHING” is a solution,
Bleaching is rather a termination.
And not a route to set one upon the mountain to receive lovable attraction.
It aims at pulling down the magical compositions of black skin into deterioration.
Leaving behind unbearable diseases and problems which turns out to place one in frustration.
The age of black is unpredictable,
It’s the skin which causes many to be humble,
it creates the feelings of being cherishable and affable.
Every story about black skin is expensive.
At the center of public, it is seductive…
Black skin fits in all attire perfectly with magnificent sensitives.
Before the rain, it looks charming and appreciative.
Exquisite of black skin, expresses its ebonics to be communicative.
Who can buy its glory?
I mean the glory which had brought motivations from multiples of personalities within the world entertainment in every gallery.
The motivations from Martin Luther, Mohamed Ali, Oprah Winfrey, Michelle Obama, Pele, Michael Jordan, Serena Williams, Usain Bolt and many others who are in memory.
Who maintained their precious black skin and exerted influence out of its value.
Perhaps, if you think your black skin is failing you,
Black skin is the most valuable gemstone found in morning dew.
#BLACK AND BEAUTIFUL
#SALEM MEDIA INITIATIVE
For G, I love you. In memory of your life path.
LGBTQ+
"Whatever you identify as, identify as an expression of love." ~ Michelle Morris
For G
By Michelle Morris
11/04/2023
You kissed a boy
And you enjoyed it
Startling and intimate
An explosion of sensations
A first love experience
Young hearts and minds
Kisses and kind hands
Feelings and emotions
You felt so different
Isolated and alone
No friends or family
To help you process the moments
Beat up by your father
Not supported by your mother
Left to fend for yourself
Through the labyrinths of life
Your siblings were defenceless
Each dealing with their own problems
You felt like Dorothy in Oz
With no guides or Yellow Brick Road
You moved through life
On a rocky path with thorns
The love of your life
Apart from you with his family
Like a forbidden love match
You furtively sought each other
Moments here and there
Time frozen in its splendour
By the time I was a teenager
You were hardened and distant
Not interested in any family
No trust left in your arsenal
We never became close
But I respected your life choices
I loved you from a distance
And supported all your wishes
To think that it all started
More than seventy years old
It's a sad and moving story
That only helps future generations
I hope that you are happy now
Looking down on us from Heaven
I hope that you're with him too
Holding hands as you watch the sunset
© Michelle Morris, 2023
"What does LGBTQIA2S+ mean? LGTBQIA2S+ is an acronym for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, ***** and/or Questioning, Intersex, Asexual, Two-Spirit, and the countless affirmative ways in which people choose to self-identify."
As I walked down Mulberry Street, my pack and the shoes on my feet.
I see a nickel, penny a dime an empty bottle of wine.
Fletcher the old drunk, smelling a bit of a skunk still I smile and wave.
Punks have placed Graffiti on a wall, claiming ownership of this urban sprawl.
I stop for a bit and have a quaint sit on the remnants of a flower box.
I light my last smoke, watch some odd folk, they walk to the beat of their drum.
Exhaling the sweet mist of nicotine addiction, happy this is my only vice.
A dandelion grows through a crack screaming for me to take poetic note.
A Mercedes parked in front of the attorneys office, ill gotten gains.
Trash blown into the inner recess of the arched doorway in which I sit.
A drug store receipt a note perhaps a declaration of love or don't forget the milk.
The cast iron manhole cover states proudly, Made in Chicago.
Ahead lies the Mulberry Street Mission a line already forms.
Where dinner and biblical mumbo jumbo are being served.
The old woman greets everyone with a smile and tells them Jesus loves you.
I'll wait until she goes inside I don't want to argue.
The wind blows and sunshine falls on my face.
I notice out of the corner of my eye a normal folk (Non-Homeless).
Taking their own cigarette break enjoying the same sweet addiction as myself.
Our eyes meet in acknowledgement of we are the same, for the moment.
The Mulberry Street bus rambles by spewing noxious fumes.
The city's wind artwork slowly turns hoping someone will take notice.
My last long draw on my cigarette, I grab my pack and pull myself up.
then One foot Two foot I resume my journey to the Mulberry Street Mission.
(In Memory of Fletcher Campbell 1940-2015)
Right before me
three doves flew
they’d come to say
goodbye to you
Your spirit dwells
within our minds
memory tracks
to better times
your humble manner
the way you talked
even in the
step you walked
You loved our family
with all of your heart
Its hard to imagine
they made us part
Your hold on life
was so strong
I heard you sing
a country song
your notes so high
touching gods eye
A teardrop
rolled down from the sky
Our hearts are broken
the pain still fresh
its like a searing
of the flesh
I know you’d tell me
to stop the tears
and probably box
me round the ears
Yet
In this
night
having given
your dues
gods three doves
soar in memory of you
A San Francisco Haiku Quartet
Oh San Francisco
Beat poets Ferlinghetti
North Beach was our city
Hushed conversations
Rich coffees and biscotti
Smothered in rich fog
Our French cigarettes
Then under table footsies
Moonlit hills our home
Cable cars singing
Golden Gate from our window
Heaven and stars..ours
{In Memory of Ralph}
May 4, 2020
2:30pm PST
English Haikus
343
A tragic event 24 years ago.
A picture can say 1,000 words.
In memory of those we lost.
Time has passed, we have not forgotten.
How could this happen?
Survive and move on.
343 and the brave.
In honor till this day.
A hijack in the sky.
Two planes crash in sight.
This will change our lives forever.
So many worked in the Twin Towers.
I just wanted to say thank you.
For our firefighters that day at our Nation Capital.
New York is home for many.
Stand with us while the terrorist bleeds.
Stand strong into tomorrow.
Honor them in a memorial. (2006)
Never forget that morning.
Unite this country in new beginnings.
Raise up our colors.
Red, white and blue for our brothers.