Long In memory of Poems
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Floating above waves wept his child
Her arms flailing to sustain life
As fierce currents engulfed and smiled
Tormenting the souls fleeing strife
Frenzied escape from plunged nonlife
On that makeshift vessel they piled
Giving up home, life for a life
Floating above waves wept his child
Seeking a land of peace, beguiled
He sought hope for daughter and wife
“Your house, safe passage,” was reviled
Her arms flailing to sustain life
Deceit cut his core like a knife
Overloaded goods, pride defiled
No shores for the sound of the Fife
As fierce currents engulfed and smiled
Her sweet voice called, so meek, so mild
Her child innocence drowned in rife
Touching fingertips, weakness riled
Tormenting the souls fleeing strife
At home, a doctor and mid-wife
Now loud voices and waves reign wild
He was rescued, no afterlife
Watching her pink scarf undefiled
Floating above waves
In memory of all those who have lost their lives on perilous sea journeys in hope of a better life.
Date: 02/04/23
Sponsor: Joseph May
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Standing here by the shore
Far beyond my long gaze
I see the earth and sky closer
My memory turns into quiet sea
That reflects through generations
Every thoughts I have is all
For everyone I dearly love whom
Like dew on grass - pure, sincere
And filled with light but now long gone
Time slows down to let me whisper
To my ancestors in the silent hill
Where candles on graves light not for sadness
But remembrance as lanterns of hope
Lighting their souls to heaven's home
Let the God of destiny hear my sadness
As I can't hold my tears to fall
Mix to the waves as additional salting
My intermittent gasping is my deepest sympathy
To my memory to my lost loved ones.
Back then,
backyards were big enough
to nurture a growing soul
and provide a space
for the earth to play out
its seasons in full rehearsal.
There were wide tracks
of grass, trees to climb,
old sheds to rummage
with their interiors full of tools
and bric-a-brac
webbed in history.
There was food - ripe tomatoes
and corn from a vegetable patch,
grapes swelling
under a cool canopy of vines,
soft skins bursting
their dark sweetness
inside expectant mouths,
almonds, apricots and the luscious
dribble of a warm peach
down sticky cheeks.
Some had roaming chickens
with their bounty of eggs.
Backyards were blotting paper
for a child's hurt, a hiding place
to get away, a theater
for projecting the phantasies
of a sheriff or a princess
high in a golden tower.
And in summer, a sprinkler
casting a gauntlet of cold spray
for tiny feet to challenge.
Then it all ends
when backyards become
too small and more exotic places
call a restless soul to leave
its Eden and break the spell
of its beginning.
Light a vigil lamp today,
In memory of a land away...
Let us light a sacred flame,
Let the world all do the same!
For the mountain breeze so sweet,
Where the thyme and fragrance meet.
For you, my Homeland, lost and torn,
So sudden, unjust, and left to mourn...
My Homeland by the Black Sea shore,
Whose proud peaks praise forevermore!
How many hearts were made to weep?
How many bleed with wounds so deep?
How many eyes were filled with pain,
And swelled with tears like rushing rain?
And who was left behind to stay,
To toll the church bell through the day?
To light the waxen candles bright,
Beside the Altar in the night?
To light the chandelier that swings,
High in the dome where heaven sings?
And in Christ’s lamp of endless grace—
The light no shadow can erase—
To gently pour the sacred oil,
And change the wick with holy toil?
My only Homeland, pure and true,
We never will forgetting you.
The strangers envied all your grace,
Your glories and your beautiful face,
While a Turkish axe brought down its blade,
And on your children, slaughter made...
Sending us to wander blind,
Leaving all we loved behind,
To bear the heaviest, darkest cross:
The entire world’s most orphaned loss.
Over the hillsides, together we burned space and time
Galloping with the wind...
Clouds took me by the hand,
Wind took you by the mane
Nothing outside our world could rival this perfect blend
Of motion, devotion, the sunshine and scented rain
I would close my eyes, and trust in the rhythm's rise
O' beautiful creature, your movements touched the very sky
Every stride, would sweep me to another world
Unfurled so far from all my childhood fears
As runaway dreamers,
we sprinted into the future of timeless memory
and heard the infinite past at the heels of your enchanted hoof
Where ancestors once felt this very connection
At one with nature, a blending of what is blessed
In the deep evening light of the first early, wintery chill,
as a comet that shoots through the eye of an in-coming storm
We were crystals, encased in a layer of ice and love
Just a trace of a moon, that sailed between the soft, leaden clouds
In the thrill of the cold, with the glorious snowflakes falling,
and the sight of your warm breath streaming,
there was white drifting smoke, in caress of the moonlight beaming
Indented, undefined, is a trail left behind
Such a moment is proof.... in all legends divine
That when snow falls around the hills, at the end of the day,
Nothing can erase that we passed this way
We were the messengers...that rode with the wind
That the hearts of species as wide as the universe
With spirits connecting two souls as one
Hearts can beat as one....drawn together, like poetic and timeless music
I am part of you....and you are part of me
And that both hearts can feel the same remorse when day is done
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In memory of "Queenie".... an amazing Sorrel Quarterhorse,
For the Contest: "PETS", sponsored by Shadow Hamilton 11/13/14
Well Everyone, My Arch Nemesis Sylvia Has Blocked Me,
so I in return have done the same with she.
As my good friend Amy said, "Let her wallow in her own guano."
Now that makes sense to me.
Sigh, I'm going to miss you Sylvia NOT!!
You weren't a worthy adversary at all.
You never had a shot.
Bye Bye Sweetie
PS: One last thing Sweetie Pie
I infected your computer with a virus.
Can you say, "Computer, Bye Bye"
It won't be long now Sylvia,
you've probably already noticed your computer's performance is getting poorly, as the virus
spreads and eventually renders your computer absolutly useless. Now, go work the streets
like I most certainly know that you do, so you can earn enough cash to purchase another.
Mess with me or any of my friends again and I'll infect your new computer as well. Yeah
that's right, ya didn't know I had that ability did ya you stupid witch.
Dedicated Always In Memory of Sylvia:
MAY SHE FOREVER REST IN PIECES
To AMY:
BRAVO! BRAVO Amy! We put it to an end.
One less bully on the Soup! High Five Me My Friend!
"The war of words ended. Victory Was Mine!
Time to do the noble thing. Time to Kiss and Say Goodbye."
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=217958
Reluctantly,
I gave her my rough draft.
An hour later she returned,
handing me my paper marked in red,
She said:
"Have you ever tried poetry?"
"You certainly have a way with words.
I think you would make an incredible poet with the right mentor!!
Come to my house on Saturday night,
I would like to show you something!!"
Within the work day I had written my first poem, "Obsessed".
Short, sweet in freestyle form,
something like a Senryu.
Sensual, creative
Asavvy1 had made his debut.
thoughts begin to brew.
daily,
I'd write two.
Consuelo,
my muse,
who,
helped rouse my creativity,
who,
gave me life when I was blue.
*** That Saturday night inspired the following poems***
Obsessed
Night Cap ( all three versions)
The Dance,
The Date,
& The Engagement.
*** Reading these poems will conclude this tribute to my Consuelo.......***
Jared Pickett
12/29/09
Asavvy1
Let me tell you about my friend,
her smile was a ray of sunshine
that never failed to enlist mine.
A poetess I’d recommend;
whether she spoke of love or birds
she’d pour her heart into her words.
Posting the best lines ever penned
she’d scribble thoughts onto the page,
feelings inked by a wizened sage.
Her beliefs were true, not pretend,
she made it easy to believe,
wearing her faith upon her sleeve.
A webmistress, Hawaiian blend,
Connie Wong's heart revealed her soul
each time she made others feel whole.
Let me tell you about my friend,
a poetess I’d recommend,
posting the best lines ever penned.
Her beliefs were true, not pretend,
a webmistress, Hawaiian blend.
(Constanza)
09/14/2022
In memory of my friend Connie Wong's passing,
11 pm Hawaiian time yesterday...I'll miss her dearly.
An angel of God with the face of a wolf
The honesty of a man with fear closed in on himself
They flap their wings hard against the wind
And above all there is love, that strong, strong love
who refuses to die, even at the gates of heaven.
My heart starts pounding,
I see you without shame, without restraint
Here the most beautiful roses grow,
in this garden of peace and health
where the scent of God, drives me crazy.
And unfortunately, I left the most beautiful Rose on earth
but her roots are so deep, that I can count on her, to live.
You tell them for me, I didn't go very far,
I'm here, right next to them.
I'm in the air they breathe, and to my children,
tell them that I love them, with a strong love.
And life goes on without me ...
Don't cry, because there's so much sun here,
and lots and lots of flowers to collect.
*This poem is in memory of my brother in law Angelo
who past away recently, he channeled the words
for his family and friend, please keep the family
in your prayers, during this difficult time.
The poet Rabindranath Tagore described it thus:
"Like a solitary tear suspended on the cheeks of time"
This structure is indeed sublime
Located in India, it is one of the most visited places
Its name means Crown of Palaces
And it took about 20 years to build
Hailed as the epitome of love and beauty
Emperor Shah Jahan felt he had a duty
To build this magnificent structure, in memory of his favorite wife.. (Mumtaz Mahal)
Who sadly, in childbirth lost her life
Construction began in 1632
And it took a 20,000 man crew
To complete this structure
Consisting purely of white marble
Standing in perfect symmetry
It is surrounded by four gardens, and four minarets
Its interior is inlaid with precious gems and pearls
Taj Mahal, one of the seven wonders of the world