Long Jumped Poems
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The ominous presence of something evil that was felt but not eye-seen brought a presage of doom to the already spooky-feeling bonfire in the woods.
The campfire which had been glowing and popping and snorting oranges and yellows, was rapidly turning into an ugly, smudgy gray and black mess.
My friends’ faces were starting to look creepy, lit only by the silly jack-o-lantern light up necklaces Linda had purchased at the Dollar Store on her way to the forest.
I have a weird feeling, Marcia said.
I don’t! Linda promptly yelled.
The rest of us giggled, nervously. I glanced behind me, expecting a werewolf, keeping
Silent, afraid fear could draw the mysterious “it” closer.
We sat in silence, listening to the last pops of the fire, staring, conversation at a standstill. Things that we had been hyena-laughing about a few hours ago, had faded from my memory now. I was feeling
tired, and when I get that way, I sometimes get mean, so I wisely shut my cookie-hole. I wished they were going home, but I was the one who had invited them to sleep in tents with me, so it was my fault they were staying.
Things felt somber, cold.
Jacque was the first to make her way to the pup tent with our sleeping bags, which I hoped
Did not have any snakes in them yet.
Linda and Marcia told her good-night.
I had a weird feeling, so I jumped up just as Jacque reached the tent. “Wait!” I said.
Everyone laughed, as this was so like me.
The next morning, when Jacque could not be wakened, they looked at me with suspicion, like I was the cause.
It was our last campfire.
[This is a Metaphysical Poem, though I’ve classified FREE VERSE since poetrysoup does not have a Metaphysical Category. I’ve uploaded a reading of poem on YouTube channel @ghairodanielspresence in Shorts section. ThkU for read ]
WOOHOO WOOHOO
Was HeartSpace Void or
were there cobwebs and
white lace, ladders and portals
like they said ?
It was spacy
I tried to find a
Centre, then mnemonic
music tumbled down
filled with numbers
I could not read
I heard names and
more names
Julia, Steph, Connor
Malik, Satima, Des
Charlie, Oscar
Across jumped a
black panther, then
came tigers
a Persian cat
an entire Lyran tribe
No, it was not Void
HeartSpace was not
Void
Woohoo Woohoo
White lace and white lice
two in one
the Third was
Void
the Third breathed life !
a single yellow Ace
A Golden, Golden Ace
perfection timed perfection
Holidays became holidaze
drunk, drunk daze
a karmic with a grey beard
no nose, curly locks, curly locks
Woohoo Woohoo
An owl and a pussy cat
Yes, many seats
no green notes
guitar, notepads, needles
cotton reels and there
was a Freudian slip !
a Nazi salute !!
can you believe
can you believe
across HeartSpace
where black Void and
Home should have been
Woohoo Woohoo
There is no in and
there is no out
there’s no right
no wrong
no left no right
no right no left
Just conscious quantum
waves across illusions of
bodies, ships, homes
boats without bosuns
crews without crew caps
youth in woodies, white smiles
Woohoo Woohoo
What is this Consciousness
what is this ?!
Just qualia programmes
qualia programmes
for MY fun and joy
MY fun and joy
Woohoo Woohoo
©GhairoDanielsPoetry&
Song2025
It was a windy night in Dubai,
on the highest floor of Burj Khalifa,
the crown of glass piercing clouds.
I stood, a monk, silent and bound by vows,
awaiting my fall into sky—
when she appeared.
A Persian vision, tall as prophecy,
skin aglow like hammered gold,
hips curved as desert dunes,
eyes that held forgotten centuries.
She moved toward me,
and time itself bent to listen.
“Fatimah,” she said,
her hand trembling yet sure.
We smiled as strangers,
yet a current older than memory
ran between us.
“Are you the next to leap?”
Her voice quivered,
yet her spirit flared like flame.
“If you are brave enough,” I told her,
“we will face the heavens together.”
At 828 meters,
on the ledge of all existence,
we stood hand in hand.
The wind was a hymn,
the sky a cathedral without walls.
And when we jumped,
the earth fell away—
we were not falling,
we were returning.
In the air she whispered,
“Your presence has taken my fear.”
And it was déjà vu—
the kiss of a life we had lost
and found again.
We landed on the Palm Islands,
the sea catching our breath.
She clung to me;
I clung to her.
Her lips met mine,
and Mount Athos shattered in silence.
“I am a virgin,” she confessed.
“So am I,” I replied,
“perhaps it was always you.”
And our kiss burned like destiny,
like vows rewritten in fire.
Then the Elders’ voices thundered:
“You have eaten the Forbidden Fruit.”
But I knew their warning too late—
for the fruit was no sin,
the fruit was Fatimah.
And in that moment I understood:
it was not vow I had broken,
but the chain of lifetimes—
and she was the answer
to every question my soul had carried.
My identical twin sister came to school with me once
Many moons ago.
We wore the same clothes, and the same socks and the same shoes.
Only our underwear was different.
I had her walk through the cafeteria, then I joined her.
This made quite a stir.
One hundred and eighty-four wound up screaming children.
Almost as loud as the school secretary when she met my sister
Not knowing I had an IDENTICAL twin.
One of my favorite children jumped out of his seat, an absolute no-no at lunch
And ran right to us. The principal who had come out to try and tamp them down glared a bit,
It stopped him not a whit.
“Two Mrs. Krutsingers!” he yelled, clapping his hands.
I laughed.
My sister did not.
Uh-oh. A clue.
“Which one is which?” I asked him.
“Easy,” he replied, pointing to me. “You are the REAL Mrs. Krutsinger.”
This pleased me greatly.
Was it my shining personality? My terrific rapport? My exuding kindnesses?
“How do you know?” I asked him.
“Caps on your teeth,” he said smugly.
And he was right.
I smiled too.
Never underestimate a second grader’s ability to
Truth you to reality.
Letting the rays of sunlight warm my face, I wondered how it would feel to be at the beach on a hot day. As I stare at the vivid pink hue of the sky, I close my eyes and let my mind drift to a kind of peace. The hours passed; everything around me was dazzling in both color and beauty. The air was frigid, as the flakes fell harder while the moon made the area almost glow. I jumped taking one step back backing away as I heard the growling sound and losing my balance. I couldn’t stop shaking, but it had nothing to do with the cold and everything due to the growl and glowing eyes.
as flakes fell harder
the moon glistened off the snow
wolf lurks in darkness
6/3/2018
A chubby ambulance with blinking lights
Rolled up to the house next door
As if a stream of steady hurt
Had been screaming forevermore
Followed by a wailing dog
Where would his master go?
Followed by his live in whore
Taken in the fog, taken in the fog.
Arriving at hospital
The EMT jumped out
The staff all came a running
Too late without a doubt
You can search all you want
When a sheet’s upon my head
And I am thrown into that body bag
I will feel a bit of glee that I am dead.
As they toss my worn out flesh and eyes
Into chubby ambulance number thirty-three
That blinking light carousel
With the remnants of the last of me
Will take me to Neverland where I will finally be free.
The doctor calls “it”
As he shakes his youngish head.
The man on the next gurney
Promptly falls out of bed.
My spirit is smiling happily
As I am taken into the world of ones I adore.
Angels surrounding me to remind me
I have been here many times before.
I have been here many times before.
No, you cannot go with me, my darlings, who are sad.
When I leave this earth life, I will no longer be big or bad.
When I am slid into Number Thirty-three
The angels will prepare me for my trip.
As I am brought to the hospital
The doctor will be glad to call “it”.
The journey is to be traveled by us one at a time.
So take a swig of whiskey.
And know that I’ll be fine.
Flesh was never meant to travel to the Neverland.
Where I am enjoying my hobbies, the very best I can.
Do not be sad, my darlings.
This is a trip we make many times.
Know that even though my flesh is dead.
I am going to be fine!
I am going to be fine!
The bats in the steeple were feeding on people
By sucking the blood splattered wood
That came from the coffin a vampire dropped off in
When he’d drunk all the blood that he could
Here in my basement, my permanent placement
I lurk since the day that I died
At rest in my casket, my skull in a basket
My hideous grin gaping wide
Rats and mice squeaking a rusty hinge creaking
A slither of light from outside
My long severed head was rotted and dead
But gasped as the door opened wide
I lifted my lid as some hooded kid
Crept sneakily into my crypt
He soon spun about and he might have run out
If only he hadn’t have slipped
As he hit the deck he shattered his neck
I thought he was bound to be dead
But then as he stood, he lowered his hood
And then he un-swivelled his head
He gave me a wink as a hideous stink
Came gushing with smoke from his ears
He then started hissing through teeth that were missing
He looked like he’d been dead for years
I climbed from my tomb and stood in the room
Where demons would hide out all day
Until in the night they’d screech their delight
And frighten the vicar away
But this little fellow with skin that was yellow
And nails that were long curly claws
Let out a howl, an unholy wail
Then went back and bolted the doors
Like rattles at Wembley, my bones were all trembly
My teeth were all chattering too
My wee wee was dribbling and let’s not be quibbling
I thought I was going to poo
It’s usually nice that we can’t die twice
So people down here dwell forever
I then realised that everyone dies
And now I’m not feeling too clever
For my turn came first, to enter the hearse
My beautiful love left alone
In these years apart she’s been in my heart
But hell’s darkest hole has no phone
So how could it be this thing before me
Could desecrate my sacred rest
I needed it banished, It had to be vanished
Along with the worms in its chest
I watched every worm wriggle and squirm
I jumped at the twelfth hour chime
In life we take knocks through the ticks and the tocks
But we can’t fight the passing of time
So...
In spite of the stink, I started to think
Which gave me the fright of my life
I had to make room in a new double tomb
For that hideous thing was my wife!
Entered October 2021 in Your Personal Favorite No 2
Sponsor L Milton Hankins
He stepped inside his rocket ship
then blasted off to space.
He overtook his nemesis
to clinch the Grand Prix race.
He dived beneath the deep blue seas
when his submarine submerged.
He stopped the speeding train before
the railway lines converged.
He flew the plane near to the ground
then looped it in the sky.
He stood on top of Everest
and jumped and didn't die.
He fought off several hungry sharks
then rowed towards the shore.
He bravely drove his Sherman tank
to help us win the war.
He stepped inside the Fort Knox safe
having mastered all its locks.
Yes, ‘He’ was me when I was small
- and I loved that cardboard box.
I REMEMBER SMOKEY
Once when I was just a kid,
My sister eight years older,
My sister's boyfriend came to call,
As we were playing soldier.
Stationed in the jungle we,
Cut off from our troop.
Surrounded by the enemy,
We must escape, regroup.
To do this we must make a stand,
Take out that lone guard.
A local girl distracted him,
So we could hit him, hard.
My sister led him to the porch,
To kiss her friend good night,
Not suspecting they were watched,
Or what we planned that night.
They stood before the porch steps,
In young love's sweet embrace,
I'm sure the neighbors heard his scream,
You should have seen her face.
We snuck up very slowly,
They never heard a sound,
They thought that they were all alone,
With no one else around.
The timing perfect as we leaped,
I yelled to him,"ATTACK!"
And Smokey did as he was told,
He ran straight up his back.
The young boy screamed, jumped off the porch,
And made tracks for his car.
My sister cried to Mama,
"He'll prob'ly have a scar!"
The young boy swore that he was bit,
Felt teeth in his behind.
I grinned and said,"But not the cat,
The teeth he felt were mine."
Mama laughed so hard at that,
That we did not get punished.
My sister went into her room,
Her reputation tarnished.
She felt no boy would date her now,
She had a rabid sister,
Who hung out with a feral cat,
No one could resist her.
So cute and sweet, she had it all,
You'd think she had it made;
But with me no one would call,
She'd die as an old maid.
Judy Ball
You can’t hurt words.
Lord knows I’ve tried.
For years I tortured words,
twisted them, kicked them about.
For a time,
it was just me against words.
The more I hammered on them
the more they jumped back up
and mocked me.
There is a God of words.
He protects words from politicians,
lawyers and poets.
I learned the hard way
that you have to love words.
They are not weapons, there’
not flags, not megaphones.
Loving words means knowing when
not to use them. This is just respectful.
You won’t hurt their feelings.
but if you misuse their power to
Illustrate and illuminate,
they will smear and smudge,
or shout too loud.
Words do not need much company;
just enough of themselves
to actually say something real.
You can’t hurt words,
and in themselves they do not lie,
it’s only the heart that lies,
and of course,
untold numbers of poets.