Long Jewel Poems
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It wasn’t that she was the only woman
in the group, that mingled precariously
beneath the bronze figure, or her classic
stance, when placing immaculately the
newsprint covered bottle to lips willingly
breached, but more her opulent style, her
contrast of attire, her hair as yet unspoilt.
Although jewel less except for a wedding
ring in her recently pierce blood stained ear
lobe, (this bearing signs of some street wise ritual?)
she still wore a suave sophistication, eyes
that bred a wanton life, fingers more use to
the gentle stem of the crystal goblet, than
the demure grasp of the shapeless neck of
the common brown. But alas maybe the
corrosion has not as yet penetrated her
foreboding mind, a mind that in time will
be given to surrender, never to realize that
this volatile life will plunge her deeper, into
one shambolic life, whilst still trying to escape
from the previous. But! Who knows what ills she
was force to bear, what tribulations life brought
upon her, maybe her new found acquaintance
comfort her, listen to her sympathetically,
understanding her predicament, also a novelty
this sharing, this caring, respect and reverence
showered upon her, like solicitous petals
falling gracefully upon her shoulders,
removing the burdens of a lifetime.
Her head
began to lift higher and higher with every
mouthful of distant courage, every courteous act.
Then! A look of deep despair, as the bottle was
released from her reluctant deep red lips, a
senseless shake only proved her greatest fear.
Immediately to her aid, came one of her new found
companions, swiftly finishing his own endless gorge,
he commence to wipe the neck of his perpetual habit,
with his mucus soiled cuff less sleeve, before
passing it on to her veracious hand, his eyes eagerly
awaiting its return.
One can imagine when the long day
is over, the sun finally at rest, only the motley bench will be hers, only the best that fleet street can offer, will cover her chilled body, her metabolism soon accelerating, to become one with theirs, a license to enter their dissipation, only then will all options for her diminish, external metamorphosis soon to blend with inner corruption, life’s destruction almost completed!
© Harry J Horsman 1991
“10And he carried me away in the Spirit to a mountain great and high, and showed me the Holy City, Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God. 11It shone with the glory of God, and its brilliance was like that of a very precious jewel, like a jasper, clear as crystal. 12It had a great, high wall with twelve gates, and with twelve angels at the gates. On the gates were written the names of the twelve tribes of Israel. 16The city was laid out like a square, as long as it was wide. He measured the city with the rod and found it to be 12,000 stadia in length, and as wide and high as it is long. 17He measured its wall and it was 144 cubits thick, by man's measurement, which the angel was using. 18The wall was made of jasper, and the city of pure gold, as pure as glass. 19The foundations of the city walls were decorated with every kind of precious stone. The first foundation was jasper, the second sapphire, the third chalcedony, the fourth emerald, 20the fifth sardonyx, the sixth carnelian, the seventh chrysolite, the eighth beryl, the ninth topaz, the tenth chrysoprase, the eleventh jacinth, and the twelfth amethyst.21The twelve gates were twelve pearls, each gate made of a single pearl. The great street of the city was of pure gold, like transparent glass. 27Nothing impure will ever enter it, nor will anyone who does what is shameful or deceitful, but only those whose names are written in the Lamb's book of life.” Rev 21:10-12;16-21; 27
There’s a place for us
In heaven’s glory land above
Mansions of mercy
Golden streets paved with love
Living waters sweet
Fruits grown for our healing
The pathway’s narrow
Requires God’s special sealing
There’s a place for us
Made of diamonds and emeralds
Japser, sapphires; every precious stone
Twelve gates of large pearls
No pain or heartache
Just joy and peace reign
Our loving Saviour is King
His kingdom forever will sustain
There’s a place for us
God planned long, long ago
A palatial,‘holy city’
With a sparkling river that flows
We are His children
Heirs to His throne
Each one will receive
His own rightful crown
There’s a place for us
It’s not just a dream
Revelation describes it
Enlightened with God’s glory beams
I plan to be there—
By His sweet mercy and grace
I want to meet you there too
With our Lord face to face.
2008-2012 Copyright Maureen LeFanue
I stayed awake all night listening to the sounds fighting with the night and battle raging in the street erupting my heart beat, one bad news after the other the body lie waiting in the gutter and the morning crowd kept walking on without a music or a song, and I said to myself what on earth is going on?
It is the question you usually hear when the dogs’ barks late at nights and the stars over your head are shining brightly and hope looks at you from the window. You cannot read it; you cannot understand it and you cannot deny it.
It looks like a pecan pie rolling sitting on the table with shoes and hat getting ready to connect the dot and the man in the dressing room is walking with a gun strapped to his side and a beach ball bouncing in front of him.
I am still wrestling with this heavy feeling inside it is not pain or any form of physical aliment, it is the environment and its occupants that is sucking the raw energy out of me and the urgency to tell a prolific story. I can’t tell it alone; I have to tell it in a night gown with incandescent lights around my bed and a bulletproof roof over my head. When the tension fades and morning weight subsides, we will write this story together and it will serve for the next century.
The temperature is rising and the squirrels are coming out of the ground they have fist like man and sand to cover the entire land. They are running up and down the streets trying to escape the beguiling heat but the sun creates a simple track and mercy is holding on to the rock with the pipers and the minstrel playing a merry tune
It is not the rhythm that you usually hear or the one that is saturated in the atmosphere, it is not the sound of death that is running the marathon around the track, it is the formula that you dig out of ice and the jewel that is sold at a very high price, it is the type of rhythm that make me feel nice. For one moment the cluttered space around me evaporate in thin air.
The window is wide open in my face and I can see everyone that entered the race, they are still walking under heavy burden covering grounds and surveying the town, and looking for substance all around but just before 2:00pm the ship will dock in the harbor and you will have fine spices and tea for th rest of your life; the window is open wide and I can see you standing in awe gallivanting with your new bride.
I'm making this plea for your love to return
This is a hard lesson I had to learn.
I learned a woman like you, is a precious jewel
Meant to be tresured, not meant to be ruled.
I tried to change you & did not suceed
Because you were perfect as you were & exactly what I need.
You tried to show love & I did not recieve it
You said you would leave me & I chose not to believe it.
I thought you'd always be here & you'd never go away
My ego told me don't worry, she'll be here, she'll stay.
But I was wrong, you left & took my heart with you
Now I'm lonely & sad now each day I miss you.
I sit here so lonely, broken & scared
Because I didn't say I Love You & acted as if I didn't care.
You wanted a man to love you & ADORE you
I didn't take heed & chose to ignore you.
You wanted love, affection & a little of my time
I didn't do those thing, because my time was mine.
You wanted a man to love God as you you do
I didn't make time for that, now we are through.
Now I pray to the same God, you tried to lead me to
Begging & pleading him to give me back my love that was so true.
I ask him to please return My Leesah back to me
But he ignores me like I did him & doesn't hear my plea.
All I need is just one more chance
To prove my love, another shot at romance.
Being without My Leesah is an unbearable pain
My heart is heavy, I wonder if it could take this strain.
I can't take the misery nor the loneliness too
My heart is on fire, I have no idea what to do.
I can't bear losing you, it's hard to be alone
This plea is is my last effort, please come home.
I can't bear the pain & the hurt is so great
I just hope & pray that my plea is not too late
I lost my lover, my wife Leesah, my soulmate.
I'll love you the way a man is supposed to
My heart will be open & never closed to you.
I'll never ignore you or take you for granted
A new seed of love in my heart will be planted.
Things will be better than ever, I know this for sure
My love will be HONEST, real & oh so pure.
I'll love you with every inch of my heart & I will never desert you
I'll always cherish your love & never again hurt you.
This is my promise as God as my witness
I ruined our union & I beg for forgiveness.
Leesah I'm sorry for all the pain I caused
Believe me when I say
Come back to me & I'll love you better than ever
Each & everyday.
Leesah I Love You!
Above ,
sitting atop a crested hill
solitary , but nary lonely
Agemo is what he answer's too
but question is alway's on his mind
His twin , Ahpla , calls him a dreamer
Agemo has grown to expect this
considering Ahpla's domineering demeanor
alway's suggestive to take without quarter
not understanding his brother's nature
how Agemo recieves more satisfaction giving
being there for the rest of the pack
helping to create a pleasant atmosphere
Ahpla's role as a tough , no-nonsense
protector , can show no weakness
he love's his brother Agemo
but at time's detest his obvious softness
But the pair with it's conflicting opposites
has found a way to oversee
those dependent on their intelligence
stern at times , yet comforting
Right now though ,
Agemo continues to watch
the rise of the moon's daily journey
wondering what tomorrow will bring.....
Ahpla and his twin brother Agemo
are the proud protector's
of a land called " Laskrizon "
a lush mountainous valley
nestled northwest by southwest
in the western hemisphere
Hidden to most , known only to few
legend tell's it , that Laskrizon
is a famed combination , called so
considering it's the last lacrimal horizon
the final portal , the last vestibule
where Nature hope's , and other's wait
uncertainty weigh's heavy here
The pack are guardian's of a secret
holders , protector's of a treasured jewel
only knowing , a time will come
the unknowing stirs an unease
but the honor bestowed keeps steady
Alway's a watchful eye to the sky
never was told what to look for
they believe they'll know ,
when the time arrives
anxiously awaiting
fortitude a definite calling here
The jewel is a stone
more so , a rough corpus
a veiny mass ,
crystalized in time from space
some have called it a seed from heaven
in the land of the two-legged
it's been called many names
grail stone , philosophers stone
even the water stone of the wise
All the pack knows
is to protect at all cost's
lest it falls into dire grips
The stone's purpose is unknown
easily overlooked at first glance
closer inspection reveals it's uniqueness
only under the light of the sun
distinct golden specks and threads
glorious in it's smallness , yet
simulating a galaxy of stars
with the spiral wynd of veins
a frozen beauty...........
( to be continued....)
i said goodbye to u
i locked all of the memories away with the others
i gave in to the emptiness
and i was completely incomplete
6 days and i thought i was safe
and then u came right back
let me beg and plead to keep u here
even without ur love
u are the only one who could bring me here
take me by the hand and lead me with spoken good intention
and then leave me desolate at the end of ur road
just staring thru the tears as u go away again
and i should just prepare myself for the days ahead
when i know u have gone away, and i am not in ur eyes anymore
and i remember why im here
and why u need me when u do
i am only the skin that holds this ruined heart
i am only the eyes that u forget cry for u
i am only the body that turns u on
i am only the want and desire of ur selfish ways
winter is on its way again
and it will be short days and long nights
cold and alone, curled up here alone
and always waiting for u.
maybe sleeping u away was the best thing i ever did
and i dreamed u back into existence
and here i am stuck in love and being ur whore
just like ive been since the first man looked my way.
ill just sit here thru the months and try to remain empty
without expectations, without feelings of my own
and when u come to me, on rare nights when u need a release
ill put the smile on my face and the sparkle in my eyes
the whole time ill be hoping...
to get ur love back
to earn ur hearts attention
and have u all alone.
i was once an irreplaceable love, the only thing u needed
and we would watch the other sleep and be amazed in the morning
and time was never an issue, and life was a possibility
and u said that there was nothing that would keep u away...
well im no longer ur little jewel, am i?
i am no longer the goddess, the woman of ur dreams...
i am the mistake that u cant get rid of, the girl u dont need anymore
and i am the girl u keep hurting with ur ways.
i dont know what to do with this anymore
i wish i could hate u too, and i wish i had also given up the fight for us
but my heart and head are still all absorbed by u
and u will never ever know.
u are still the man i love forever
u are still the one i want for life
the only one who touches me
its all just a memory, but one i cant delete
and i would still fight this war alone
if it werent killing me every battle
but the love will never die
and u will never ever know.
If my poetry moves you to witness to stranger
Just know that I'm touched that you're "sharing my ride,"
For the fact is that giving can be fraught with danger,
But those that it calls feel much warmer inside!
I have so little knowledge to call my invention
Some came from my parents, from people I've met
But the gift of the spirit defies all convention
It's holy, profound, precious gift without debt.
Even muse I call gift, for it waters my soul's growth,
An alternate path that the spirit can take
Truth that's flavored by strangers, by loved ones, I've seen both,
Fresh air never sweeter, Grace purges mistake!
Spirit truth has no owner like jewel or gold dust,
It's one with Creation; you'll know it by feel.
Although Midas (1) got gold, all his love turned to soul rust,
The gift of the Spirit is simply to heal!
Brian Johnston
June 13, 2017
Poet's Notes:
(1) From Greek mythology - Wikipedia
"One day, as Ovid relates in Metamorphoses, Dionysus found that his old schoolmaster and foster father, the satyr Silenus, was missing. The old satyr had been drinking wine and wandered away drunk, to be found by some Phrygian peasants who carried him to their king, Midas (alternatively, Silenus passed out in Midas' rose garden). Midas recognized him and treated him hospitably, entertaining him for ten days and nights with politeness, while Silenus delighted Midas and his friends with stories and songs. On the eleventh day, he brought Silenus back to Dionysus in Lydia. Dionysus offered Midas his choice of whatever reward he wished. Midas asked that whatever he might touch should be changed into gold.
Midas rejoiced in his new power, which he hastened to put to the test. He touched an oak twig and also a stone; both turned to gold. Overjoyed, as soon as he got home, he touched every rose in the rose garden, and all became gold. He ordered the servants to set a feast on the table. Upon discovering how even the food and drink turned into gold in his hands, he regretted his wish and cursed it. Claudian states in his In Rufinem: "So Midas, king of Lydia, swelled at first with pride when he found he could transform everything he touched to gold; but when he beheld his food grow rigid, and his drink harden into golden ice then he understood that this gift was a bane and in his loathing for gold, cursed his prayer."
This is a story poem. I call, ALL FOR THE LOVE OF BETSY
ILL start this little story by asking a question,what is love?
They say there is all kinds of love.
This story is about a new kind of love.
I had two loves my girlfriend and I was in love with my car.
Now you might say that is strange to be in love with a car.
It is not me that is strange being in love with a car.
What is strange,is the strange behavior of the car.
Now I got you confuse, or you think IM just plain crazy.
Well my story really begins when my grandfather gave me 1955 OLDSMOBILE.
I was so proud of the car,I even gave her a name.I called her BETSY.
She was two tone yellow and black,she was a beauty.
I wash and waxs BETSY everyday.
I even carved a heart on BETSY dashboard.
I wrote in the heart,ALL FOR THE LOVE OF BETSY
About the time I had BETSY,I met my future wife BARBARA.
She also was a beauty.
This is where my little story starts to get strange.
TRUE BUT STRANGE.
BETSY seem to take on a life of her very own
When I was alone with betsy,she run like a jewel.
When BARBARA was riding in BETSY.
BETSY would run like a mule.
One night I had four flat tires.
Another night BETSY loss all her power.
I thought the cable on BETSY battery came loose.
NOTHING WAS LOOSE.
Whenever I played the radio it came in nice and clear.
Whenever BARBARA played the radio nothing came on but static.
The strangest part of the story when BARB and I was on a pinic.
We were sitting under a willow tree.
I carved a heart on the bark of the willow tree.
Inside the heart I wrote,ALL FOR THE LOVE OF BARBARA.
Just I like I in the heart I carved on BETSY dashboard,
ALL FOR THE LOVE OF BETSY
BETSY was parked on an enbankment.
We were sitting under the willow tree below the enbankment.
Some how BETSY hand break came loose
and BETSY started to roll down the enbankment.
BETSY crashed into the willow tree and scapeof the heart on the bark of the tree
where I wrote ALL FOR THE LOVE OF BARBARA.
BETSY burst into flames and was gutted out.
All except where I carved the heart on BETSY dashboard,
that I wrote ALL FOR THE LOVE OF BETSY.
BARBARA and I got married,
but as for BETSY,I never had a car quite like her again.
I dont know if you believe my story or think IM strange.
But do you want to know what is really strange,
LOVE IS STRANGE
Prentice Haines was the son of wealth,
the youngest of a brood of nine.
At sixteen he fled from Boston town
for the rugged life of western climes,
trapping fur took up his time.
Before a year passed he’d married a squaw,
his wife in fact, if not in law.
A daughter came quick, he named her Nell,
Bbt fate followed with darkness in store.
His wife Feathered Dove died of a fever
a year after sweet Nell was born,
but Prent had little time to mourn.
His daughter knew not that her ma was gone,
so Prent lived for her, Prent soldiered on.
Three years passed swiftly, one sunny noon
Pent and Nell walked into Sally’s case.
She gave them a smile, she always did,
then with sweet Nell did she play.
Sally was always in a happy way.
For four years since her husband died
she’d been running this place and getting by.
While Nell ran about, Prent said to Sal:
“I’m thinking of heading back east.
Time to think about schooling for Nell,
someone who womanly manners can teach.
And I suppose a new wife I should seek.”
Sally, she smiled, teeth white as pearls,
Aad said,”Not just in Boston can you find a girl.”
But Prent didn’t hear her, so lost in his mind,
Saying,”Yep, I think she will need a good school.
Being a half-breed will be troublesome enough,
can’t let her grow up just another fool.
Can’t fall short by my little jewel.
But Sally take my thanks, before I go,
for watching over her, while I trapped in the snow.”
She smiled sadly at that, then she explained:
“Watching Nelly was truly a pleasure.
She’s a wonderful girl, and I see clearly
why her father calls her his treasure.”
She bade them both good-bye forever.
At the station next day, early came
the long, hissing snake that was their train.
Across half the continent they went,
sweet Nell’s face glued to the window,
seeing prairie, farm, hills, and town
Aa along the tracks they’d go.
For Nell it really was quite a show.
And finally, the chugging train pulled on in,
blowing its great whistle at Boston’s station.
Prent knocked on the door to his parent’s house,
waiting until he heard some footsteps.
The door swung open, revealing the maid
so shocked that she looked pale as death.
She called out the name ‘Annabeth.’
A minute went by and his sister appeared,
oldest of the Haines children in years...
CONTINUES IN PART II.
The mists of time,
they once more dissipate,
we return to mighty Alahsar,
come, my Lords and Ladies,
come. on golden wings,
Alahsar,
the golden beauty of dreams,
it does await us in its wonder.
The mists now clear,
we now see great glory,
in its golden splendour,
the dream called Alahsar dows stand,
as you may remember,
there was great revelry within,
a night of celebration did sing,
it was rivalled by no other.
Hearken to my words,
the song shall now go on,
The revelry sings in the streets,
great joy is singing,
there was joy and merriment,
in great abundance,
every soldier, not on duty,
they were within a dwelling.
They were not alone,
much mead was flowing,
their joy was abundantly clear,
they now had their play,
primal passion was the dance,
on the first level,
to primal passion,
these warriors put their strength.
Upward, on level two,
the streets full of revellers,
couples dancing,
men showing their prowess, in games of strength,
such fun and frivolity,
the storm above, in its full glory,
A cheer goes up, cries carried aloft,
"The Dark Man comes."
There is much shaking of hands,
many hugs of friendship,
tonight, the people were one,
there were no petty feuds.
The Tigress, now arriving on level four,
her eyes gaze upward,
men, women and children play around her.
Now, voices are raised in songs of victory,
how sweet is the sound,
songs that would fill the warrior's heart with pride,
songs sung of a far antiquity,
also, of course,
songs sung of the golden king's exploits.
Songs of praise, ringing in the ears,
to the greatness of dream's mighty jewel,
songs that heap golden praise,
upon the majesty of the golden king,
loud and proud, voices hang in the air,
Alahsar, the golden jewel, alive with golden song.
now, for one moment,
our thoughts leave the merriment,
this was a troubled time for the golden king,
darkness did threaten the golden kingdom,
Only the golden king and his advisors knew this.
The golden king,
who, this night,
would drink the cup of celebration,
tomorrow, he may drink the dregs of sorrow's cup,
before an untimely end,
enough for the 'morrow my Lords and Ladies,
we look to the night of celebration,
let Alahsar praise the Dark Man,
let Alahsar praise all those he led to victory.
To Be Continued..........