Long In reply Poems
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Today I had a strange experience,
Not in this group but in another group.
‘Poetry and Lit'rature' it is not,
In ‘Written or Revealed Poetry' thread.
Asked, have I written poems in my life?
I found it fit to answer it this way:
I'm writing this in reply to a miss,
I have never written poems in my life.
Have wondered where these poems all come from,
From human intellect or nature's store,
To be picked up at moments of revelation;
Or synthesized in rotten human brain!
I was inspired to write these wicked lines,
By those whose verses written were in sand:
Let us debate poetry in poems,
I hope she'll someday answer me in kind.
I 'am not doing anything again,
But asking questions all have answers for.
I have my answers, you can have yours,
This not an illiterate arena,
Where someone asks questions and another from,
Some academic circle answers them.
Some anxious are, to questions throw around,
Some eagerly waits there to answer them;
This not such school or college where one can,
En'tertain answers not from others too.
I know I'm Alexander Pope's close kin,
I stop here, to read Temple of Fame again.
I regularly take part in discussions in a famous social site of experts and writes in two special groups Poetry and Literature and Language, Literature & Criticism. A discussion on ‘Whether Poetry Has To Keep Form' became heated and I had to remain at the receiving end of severe but very polished criticism for some of my view points insisting on form for poetry.
At last I was asked, ‘You do not seem to have understood the mechanics of poetry like many of us; have you ever read a poem or at least try to write one'? I decided to write my reply in the poetical form and invited the others to respond in the like manner and continue the discussion on poetry. In my native land, in Malayalam literature, there has been a long history of poets writing letters to each other in the poetical form, creating a rich branch of literature in itself. In truth, almost all Indian languages had this kind of a branch of literature, and it had become an interesting and rich feature of Indian literature. I replied as shown here.
A Poem By P.S.Remesh Chandran. Editor, Sahyadri Books & Bloom Books. Trivandrum.
Read more about our views on poetry and about our various poetry editorial services in http://poetryeditservice.blogspot.in/
Walking home from the bus stop, with a little girl.
I did this every day, and I was really sure,
That everything would be just fine, like every other day,
But little did I know, that this was not like other days.
She stop behind a broke down van, to tie her favorite shoes.
Little did we both know, the van was working well.
I stopped with her, making sure not to leave,
As it was my job to get her home nice and safe.
The van suddenly started moving, and I told her to move.
I can’t she said in reply, im not done tying my shoe.
Tara I said impatiently, we need to move now.
She refused and then I pushed her, making her move.
It was my job to get her home safe, and safe home she would get.
Just then the bumper hit me, knocking me to the ground.
I tried to get up but couldn’t, because the tire was on my leg.
People screaming at the lady, who was in the driver seat.
The lady did not listen, she kept going on with ease.
I screamed, and all went black.
And the next thing I remember,
I am sitting in the passenger seat, my mom lunging over me
Paramedics all around asking me if I hurt,
I am I said, my legs and shoulder, but I cant really feel my legs.
They put me in the ambulance, carefully transporting me from the scene
I wake up in a hospital bed, with my mom sitting next to me.
You may never be able to walk again, she tells me delicately
The accident broke both your hips, you were lucky to survive.
Then the nurse came in, telling me the rest of the news.
I cried and cried as I heard I may not be able to move.
Your really lucky she then told me, as most people don’t survive.
But you did and that’s all that matters, my mom said with a smile.
She kissed my forehead and said she would be back soon.
I fell asleep in a hospital bed, and woke up in my own.
I don’t remember much of this day, but what I do I have said.
Tara survived with no injuries and I am happy that it was me.
I had to quit my favorite sport, and I missed nationals that weekend.
3 months later my shoulder was healed,
And I was re-learning how to walk.
I don’t dread what I did that day, not one bit in the least.
I saved a little girls life. But gave away some of my own.
Its been a little over 5 years since this.
And I still have side effects from it.
But I can walk, and do most everything,
That I was able to do before.
Form:
Down I go.
On the paths of sheol again.
The rewards of death; my hands regain.
The wheels of the plow of righteousness; i forgot to maintain.
Being led into the desert,
I stagger like one under the influence.
All the while blinded by momentary pleasures.
A walk through the arid land with cold lifeless walls as my compass.
*Surely I have lost it*
These words my mind kept a fix on.
Regurgitating it while the devil's counsel slowly seeped in.
A 'sound advice', like Job's wife, the devil gave.
Urging me to totally quit.
A sweet ballad he played into my ears.
Telling me to embrace hedonism as my new religion.
For I would surely fail in living a perfect life.
He gave me examples.
Yes.
*Your righteousness is as s filthy rag before God*
The accuser of the brethren quoted this scripture for me.
I countered.
Reminding him that self righteousness accounted as sin before God.
Telling him of the uptmost essence of the Jesus's death and grace in salvation.
"No one is perfect"
These words the devil said in retort.
Quoting a popular quip which gave leeway for people to sin.
In despair,
I tried to counter.
For my Christian walk was filled with inconsistent up and down moments.
Like a touchlight with a failing battery,
The light of Christ within me flickered.
HE then came back.
Like a sharp clack amidst deep silence,
I heard His words.
That piercing word of life that erupted joyful tears in me.
For I was a washed out version of my former self.
*My grace is sufficient for you.*
*You have an advocate before the father who pleads your case.*
These words Jesus spoke to me in reply to the devil's condemnation.
*Look unto Jesus the author and finisher of your faith...*
This charge He gave me to cleanse me of all adulteration.
*There is therefore now no condemnation to them who are in Christ Jesus*
This fact He quoted to free me from all allegations.
*Seek ye first the kingdom of God and its righteousness...*
These words He gave to guide my future aspirations.
Once more I cling to the cross.
An abandonment of my fling with death.
A willing stone in the sling of Christ Jesus.
Ready to earn new trophies to bring to His feet.
Laying them down as He calls me a king too, being a joint heir with Jesus.
#Bashorun
What if we make it in time
Took my eldest brother of heart
I was age eight
Routing me through different foster homes
I could turn to nothing other than art
Script my life to a page, my newly designed faceplate
Registered me in school with hillbillies
Rednecks lurking behind oak trees
plotting to noose and conceal me
Troubles away from home
It’s all my fault, I’ll withstand the punishment
Take a recess, filter out the problems
Let you know how much fun it’s been
Street thugs want to beat; I’m no ones fool to beat
Pressure me and in my possession I acquire the tools to beef
As Lustful individuals we relaxed in our own deceit
Situations come to a stand still
I take shelter beneath the neighboring bridge
I’m grown and on my feet
Who could criticize my passion for success?
Here lately it’s become a fashion to stress
In these heated hours of liaison with we nest
I believe in me, myself, and nothing else
I’m out late in the night
I’ve got to get the rent
Trying to lead of life toward luxury
Another flaw in torment I resent
Plus I got issues with the police
The mayor and the presiding judges
So many scoundrels to enlighten my grudge
No one to stand beside this perched individual
Therefore I believe me, only myself
Wishing hard times upon me
Brush them off, time to study for my clinicals
The dirt shoveled, equals the nonsense I’ve been dealt
Put an out cast to ease
A touch somewhat seldom felt
Trailing my steps,
As I expire, you may have what’s left
And who knows, we might actually make in time
Peering through my blackened mirror in scenes
I witness the incessant struggles of individuals in spleen
Mortar over my nemesis as seen
The tower I build in an effortless climb
A have-not in time, this leprosy of mine
But you and I we have history in reply
Rest your thoughts next to this Charismatic character
On whom else could you simply rely?
The love letters I receive in kind
My colleague wants to know dearly
If you have a friend in mind
Paper makes misery worth living
Mother says her rapper insist I owe in him thanks in given
The humor in my latest statement
“By my ambitions only I’m driven”
I believe in me, myself and nothing else
But who knows, we might actually make it in time
“It’s in there!”
The frizzy haired woman insisted with mirth in her eye.
“But, how?”
I asked beseechingly.
She gave a mischievous laugh from impish lips in reply
And then skipped merrily on her way.
The most precious thing I ever lost
Contained in a small puzzle box?
Ridiculous!
I paused.
No, I knew what the lady said to be true.
I could hear the enchanted object
Whispering to me
In an unfamiliar language
That my heart somehow understood.
I was missing a precious commodity.
Something very special.
My memory could only see vague outlines.
However, I was confident
A magnificent treasure
Lied within the small chest.
Now focused,
The mystery of unlocking the chest came naturally.
With greedy eagerness
I quickly opened that which held me back
From my forgotten prize.
And . . .
The chamber was empty
Save a simple unframed mirror
Taped to the inside of the lid.
I remembered the woman with a playful smile
And thought,
“Is this a woeful attempt at a joke?!”
I started to seethe
And my face began to contort
Then I saw my reflection.
Memories of loss
Due to anger, regret, and missed opportunities
Cascaded into my mind.
Were these my most precious valuables?
Did I now consider these thoughts so I could make changes?
Or did I recall them to realize that they made me who I am today?
Both or neither!
It didn’t matter.
It was simply the past
On which I didn’t dwell.
Again enraged,
I shook myself from my stupor,
tore the mirror from its place,
and threw it shattering to the ground.
“So, it was a trick.” I grumbled.
And was just about to curse
when a glint from box caught the corner of my eye.
Upon closer examination,
Behind where the looking glass once stood,
Was a simple etching that pierced me with a penitent knife.
“I heart Jenny”
Jenny.
Jennifer.
My sister who passed away
When I was the simple age of five.
A beautiful brown haired brown eyed teenager
With a kind smile and the most incredible soul.
Cancer.
Had it really been over four decades?
Too few memories and too little recollection over the years.
Now, I recalled.
Feelings as much as details.
Love and peace.
I made a commitment to myself.
To never lose sight of that which was most important again.
Vaping Ain’t Worth The Risks
To vape or not to vape, perhaps say the venerated Shakespeare …
If only he were alive this day , he might also got to make a choice…
Back in his Victorian times, it was probably just tobacco and pipes …
What is obvious is this human weakness is still spread far and wide..
There are those who smoke, merrily they puff away..
Nary a worry at all what others might do or say…
It is their smokers’ rights, they puff in reply…
Should you ever glare or glower at this lifestyle…
There are those who choose not to smoke in earnest…
These are the ones who are in awe of their conscience…
They are well aware of the many horrifying pictures…
Amply displayed on the outside of every pack of ciggies…
The cigarettes companies, giants in their chosen industry…
Well aware of the changing trends, funded research for alternatives..
E cigarettes, puff away uninhibited, it is like the real thing…
Not to worry, it is healthy, it can be nicotine free…
Decades later, today we see this boom in e cigarettes….
Only now it is repackaged to sound more appealing…
Vape gadgets, sophisticated little electronic gadgets..
And a multitude of different flavours to fit all kind of budgets…
Hear ye, hear all, this is the latest smoking fad in the market..
No, my dear brethren, it is no longer smoking, that’s so passe..
Welcome to vaping, it is chic and it is cool, what’s your flavour…
No it is safe, in Malaysia, there is no regulatory restrictions whatsoever…
Pray, to those who do worry what they puff in before they exhale..
Kindly go through the articles below and pray, be firm and say nay…
Smoking or vaping, it is just the same evil in different packaging…
Stay healthy, live free and easy, and enjoy life by not doing vaping….
http://www.thestar.com.my/news/world/2015/12/09/ecigarettes-contain-dangerous-popcorn-lung-chemicals/
http://www.star2.com/health/wellness/2015/12/05/your-e-cigarette-may-have-cell-destroying-molecules/
http://www.star2.com/family/children/2015/12/09/boost-your-childs-heart-health-start-them-on-sports-early/
I sit here wondering, concentrating, trying to take it all in.
What happened to the life I use to live?
I'm stuck, torn, confused, empty inside, lost without trace of insanity to grab.
Time seems to just stand still, but slowly fade away.
Pain, grief, anger, sorrow where do I begin.
Maybe if I ran and hid my tears would do the same.
So much I have to say, but the words drift as silent echos in the window.
Who am I, what am I doing in this hell-foresakend body?
This bitter world is never sweet, trying to manage standing on your own two feet.
If you should fall and get a bruise or two, remember these are often made from matters of the heart, which is harder to consume.
Yes, you played a part, that was not the issue I hated the crying games.
You thought you'd fool my heart, when we danced you gladly sang the songs.
I tried closing my eyes, tightly plugging my ears, then the music stops, silence is all that's left.
Please don't whisper or hold my hand, don't run your fingers through my hair just be thoughtful, turn and quickly walk away.
Don't look back it's now the past, do me a favor throw those memories away, make sure when you open the door to leave, you remember to close it too.
I'll stand alone till your finally gone, sketch out a plan on living on my own, the days and nights come and go, just like the memories before will all disappear.
I've felt enough, seen it all don't be surprised if you never receive a call.
Fairytales, romances, are nothing as they seemed, happily ever after only exist in dreams.
You say wishes are suppose to come true, I think mine got lost a time or two, life is not easy don't give up.
You'll start to reminisce as the tears will manage to fall, struggling to deal with it all alone.
Letters of their lost words you'll get in the mail saying, "I loved you, always will" be strong as you read them all, when your finally done tear them up, burn them up if you'd like.
Send a letter in reply, explaining to them to simply and kindly, "Go to Hell," no longer will you have control of my misguided thoughts.
There are things that you will hear only once or twice, and if you are wise, you will treasure them for a lifetime. And again, there are things you will hear time and time again, and if you are wise, you will value and never take them lightly. In my case, both things attached themselves and stuck to me like glue.
For example, at our church, I filled in for our head usher one Sunday. Standing at the main entry, greeting and handing out bulletins to attendees as they walked in, one gentleman said to me, "You are no Al Berry". I smiled in agreement with him and must have said to myself, "You sure got that right". I had learned long ago that Al was so well-loved, because Al always loved so well. Hearing a statement like that is rare, because knowing a person like Al is also rare.
On one occasion that I will never forget, I greeted Al at the entry and said, "It's good to see you, Al". His reply to me was so real and genuine and spoke volumes to my heart. I don't know if I had ever heard it the way Al said it. You see, Al has fought many battles with illness, and sometimes he was very near 'death's door'. Moreover, like the morning dew, Al has always been faithful, always bouncing back. Like apples of gold in pictures of silver*, Al spoke fitting words in reply when he said, "It's good to be seen".
745am070320PS*Proverbs 25:11
Update 92020: Al passed away a few days ago. Though I will not see Al again
in person, he shall ever be within my mind.
Despair and Tears, As Silence Reigns
Sun burnt dark crystals sizzle this aching mind
where maple tree ooze their sticky flesh,
as cold harsh silence reigns
Begging sky cries from sun and its scorching flames
as blinded ground wakes to scampering winds,
their voices roaring into eternity
as cold, harsh silence reigns
The flower meadows reach for gasping tones,
demanding Nature plunge about its glories
and in their frenzy, miss dancing clouds above
as cold, harsh silence reigns
The life that invades this body mine,
seeks control over sad singing heart
to smother love's bounty and allow Time to eat eternity,
as cold, harsh silence reigns
Robert J. Lindley, 7-06-2019
Free verse, ( A darkened look into Earth, Life and Eternity )
O' Pain, Let Mercy See Thy Face
Discontent that sets its own sails
over waters shimmering deep
stray-shot arrows, that heart impales
within darken dreams life tells
O' pain, let mercy see thy face
as sorrows replay youth's disgrace.
Paradise, where hides - joy of hope
Is salvation within man's scope?
I that stomped grapes with my feet
grasp at shadows from falling leaf,
yet fearful of darkness I meet
ever mindful of souls in grief.
Make wine from grapes plucked by hand
pray aloud, as barefoot I stand.
Paradise, where hides - joy of hope
Is salvation within man's scope?
From within mind's loss, blades of glass
icy slivers into veins sink
dark and morose, the dying grass
seeds borne of gulps, Life's poison drink.
O' truth cut this heart to the quick
of these sorrows, I am too sick.
Paradise, where hides - joy of hope
Is salvation within man's scope?
Robert J. Lindley, 7-23-1979
Rhyme, ( Why oft, ill winds blow fast, hard and so free )
Note-- The free verse is a new poem, the rhyme is a very old one.
I wrote the free verse in reply and commentary on the time, sorrows and thinking that inspired the old one. My wife and our son both, think like the new poem much more. While I , still favor the old poem more!
I smiled the day my children arrived
As my wife, my love, she brought them in
Behind curtain, cut, she waited to see them
As I whispered to her… in time
She held them, fed them, cleaned them well
Counting the days to bring them home
She asked the doctor just how long to leave
He said in reply… in time
In time
The whole wide world can pass us by
In time
The days can go in the blink of an eye
In time
Moments must be captured somehow
In time
There’s no time, like right now
Home, loving them, helping them grow
She and I did our best to give them everything
Yet they always asked for the newest things
And we would say… in time
They’d get, they’d use, they’d change their likes
What was new was old and they wanted new again
Money was tight, but love was always plenty
So we would reply… in time
In time
The whole wide world can pass us by
In time
The days can go in the blink of an eye
In time
Moments must be captured somehow
In time
There’s no time, like right now
They rushed to grow through school, through life
While we watched and taught and loved so much
They wanted this and that, the car keys and more
Our reply was always… in time
When they fell in love and broke their hearts
Our hearts had broken those times with them
They would ask why and how long to get over
We’d respond lovingly… in time
In time
The whole wide world can pass us by
In time
The days can go in the blink of an eye
In time
Moments must be captured somehow
In time
There’s no time, like right now
As adults, they learned so much and applied
With children of their own, they learned even more
When asked of them, the same things we heard
We heard them say… in time
Funny, how different they are and may end up
As years went on, we couldn’t and didn’t see
That all problems pass and they will be fine
Because we got to them… in time
In time
The whole wide world can pass us by
In time
The days can go in the blink of an eye
In time
Moments must be captured somehow
In time
There’s no time, like right now
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