Long Look on Poems
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As we all go through life we want to believe
That we are all so wise
Until life spits you out a big surprise
As everything changes right before your eyes
When life slows down and we drift inside
We find ourselves fixed to a great slide
Just hoping to get to the other side
Oh God
Where are you taking me on this ride
Before I knew it we were in a full glide
I realize this is no ordinary ride
For on the way I could see clear as day
If I don't pay attention then this ride will sway
And I will never make it back to that day
When my life caught me by surprise
In such a big way
It took me to a place I am not ready to stay
This journey I must say helps me understand God has a plan
It's in his presence that we reach
For some kind of reference
Life is very short so you better be a good sport
Only God knows how wide the slide may be
I'm just glad that he wasn't ready for me
I learned so much as it all went by
I knew I was in the right place
Though I was very high
As I opened my eyes I thought everything
Was in disguise
For I knew that nobody was going to believe
What lays way up beyond the skies
What a wonderful surprise to find out
God loves me enough to send me back
To you guys
My life was altered in so many ways
I was gone for forty-five days
And some of it is still in a haze
My life will never be the same
Only the good Lord knows
How close I came that day
But one thing is for sure
I would never feel any shame
Or forget his mighty name
This is how I became a Soldier in Christ
To help him reclaim
What Satan has taken away
So we must all fight for what is right
We must banish Satan way out of sight
The bible is God's promise to all that believe
It's our faith that sets us free
I will stand against evil to help God to victory
For God had picked me
To see what most of us never get to see
Until we transition this position
And we leave these bodies
You can imagine that look on my face
When I actually made it back to that day
I am a witness to all of his glory
I will spend the rest of my life
Sharing his story
You will not hear any fear
When I know my time is near
He revealed it all to me
It has set me free to go be with thee
Without any mystery in what
God Promised you and me
I promise I would be a good girl when I go out into the world, I promise to stay out of trouble and return home in a hurry. I promised never to play in the street or walk barefoot, I promise I would stay in school and complete the semester and when the climate changed, I promise to graduate and study at the university.
It’s seems like yesterday when I utter such word when I was at play. I was thirteen and you were thirty-three and I always looked up to thee. You have always encouraged me to hold my head high and never look into ground that hold the dust of shame to its core, and the molten lava spewing through the hole and entering the spot where the disgraced soldier, conceptualize the plot.
I can still hear those words ringing in my ears as I walk the path that everyone fears, it is the moment of truth that is embedded in my youth and the ordeal I encountered on life’s journey comes back to remind me.
I could tell from the start that you are a heart breaker and the season come to remind me that the fault is within me and love is my destiny; when the autumn is done and winter comes along and the snow starts falling, it will fill the lakes and the trees, the ocean and sea and you will come and dance with me.
We will do the river dance on the roof and do the fire dance in a circle, then we will roll in the snow and touch each other dignity, and Boston and Richmond will come alive, Baltimore and Washington DC will take the dive, but New York and Philadelphia will ride out the snowstorm.
It seems like yesterday the climate changed and the clouds start fading away. I stood on those very steps and recited the whole chapter, I stood on that step and grasp every living character, I remember how you cast your eyeballs at me and how the mountain shook beneath the sea when you said, “will you marry me?”
“I am only thirteen, “she said, and I cannot lie in that big bed, “Yes I will marry you,” she replied, she held breath for a while and look on every side and you were still standing looking at her; then a gust of wind came, and you suddenly disappeared, and I stood on the step gazing at the wind.
The daughter's promise was fulfilled, and they walk boldly up the hill after thirty-three years in the making the universe had their blessing, the evidence is in the wind and you can hear it when you are still, winter is chiming in.
In numerous locales countrywide, they hold sway
Pirouetting at intervals like ballerinas from Bolshoi
Beauteous, feline and very feminine
Slender to the point of emaciation, not quite
Cultivating the undernourished look on a frugal diet
Decidedly austere for a longer tenure in the limelight
Basking in the fleeting warmth of an adulatory audience
A gathering of the doting kindred and the upwardly mobile
Some dirty old men on the sly, dirty young men too
Glued to their seats craning for a better view
By and large captive by choice, a handful perforce
Sitting through to pen their weekly column
Giving those they fancy their due in the sun
Witnesses to a parade of demure eyed lasses
And a few with flashy looks walking tall on stilettos
Essentially female and contoured though not prominently so
At least not to a marked degree, yet with excellent muscle tone
Opulence, no longer deemed a career necessity
Once considered right stuff, now rejected as wrong size
An hour-glass shape belonging to an age bygone
But hardly so, from the viewers’ mind, in retrospect
Enchanting and alluring yet not overtly titillating
Each in a state of dress and undress
Willing tools of designers flaunting their creations
Sporting dresses and hats and shoes, and lingerie too
In black or white and loud or subdued hues
Displaying formal wear, casual wear, swimsuits and sleep suits
Some scanty and figure hugging, others flowing and loose
A bony look required for some, others fulsome
A voyeur’s paradise, to be sure
Indulging a fetish without stooping too low
Chilly weather was never reason enough to cancel a show
Heat of arc-lamps taking care of goose pimples
Or brandy taken neat infusing the needed heat
Harbingers of tomorrow’s fashion and pall-bearers of today’s
The strobe lit platform of the pageant
Serving to launch new faces or is it legs?
The leggy look personified by Twiggy of yore
Carried through in the interim and sustained by the new genre
Captivating without doubt, and thorough professionals
Displaying unruffled demeanour and tutored bearing of thoroughbreds
Exuding confidence with every graceful step they take
Cool as ice despite the harsh glare of stage lights
And callous catcalls from boorish males
Performing in a backdrop of future fashion trends
Money and fame finding some, eluding others
Be it centre stage or in the shadows
It is bread on the catwalk for all
I escaped to a quite place to meditate
But as soon as I got there an old man in a red cap
with a wretched look on his face invaded my quiet space
I have noticed him perpetually prowling around the park
with his long range professional camera shooting from the dark
Today my spirit got crossed and I came face to face with him
I labeled him a stalker but he quickly denied and
and confessed that he was a habitual bird watcher
I felt a sudden vexation brewing and with deep sorrows inside
I took my bible and sat on the damp grass and
read a psalms from the depth of my heart.
The rain came down suddenly wetting the pages in my bible
And forcing the bird watcher to close his despised windows
His conscience started screaming at him and in a few
minutes he hurried away from that place.
Something compelled me to leave that spot too
so I rode my bike along the wet trail leading to a muddy course
and a man riding in the opposite direction crossed my path
I attempted to get off my bike to let him pass
but he said aloud "I will ride in the muddy part"
As soon as I reach around the tired bend
I pounced upon a sign which reads
"road under construction, closed"
The broken swampy road perishing from inside
with heavy equipment blocking the route kept everyone away
I felt extremely happy
I parked my bike along the broken track and walked on
a board that connects both trail and continued on the track
I kept walking until my spirit led me to a peculiar place
A tree on the river bank with roots swelling out of the ground
with no soil to cover it's body and veins running all around
caught my attention
I made my way into the bushes
and sat on the root with my bare feet dangling
above the slow moving water and flat rocks gazing at me
as if they have something urgent to show me
I kept looking all around still there was nothing to be found
But right in front of me the hidden mystery was staring directly at me
There it was in living proof five trees standing on the river bank
four trees leaning over the river in a cluster
with one almost falling to the ground
But the fifth tree separated from the cluster was standing upright
looking healthy and strong sucking up the energy from the four falling ones
I photograph the living image of the four trees
collapsing over the big dirty river.
I slash with my sword and I push with my shoulder. Every muscle and every tendon is screaming in agony. I can feel every pressure when my blade makes contact. I’m grunting with passion as I push every extremity to the very breaking point. I let my mind wonder to the past, where my family was butchered and mutilated when I was 10 years old. I lost everything I loved and anything that mattered to me, but my passion. Revenge echoes in my mind over and over, like the rumbling of thunder in the summer storms when they pass. Revenge against those who could do the things I’ve seen, beasts that slaughtered my whole family. I have spent years here, learning the warrior’s way, feeling the grunge and toils from everyday training.
My sword is now a part of my body, so swift and true. I can draw it sharply and silent to bring it up my enemy. I spin my body and crouch down low, dodging my enemy and thrusting my sword into his chest. My body has become one single weapon for me to use. My mind is sharp and ready for the challenges of all those who oppose me. I will fight for honor and what is right and damnation to those who are evil and selfish. In the distance a voice echoes in my ears, “Piiid!” “Pid!” This sound grows louder as I strain my muscles and sharpen my skills. “PIIIDDD!!!” “HAULT!” and then I realize that master Baracus has been calling me. Turning around, I see Baracus standing there with a puzzled look on his face. He is a tall elder man with a chiseled chin and scars across both cheeks. His skin tone is deep red from the Sun’s scorching heat of the day. His balding head has traces of white hair around each side and the tunic of a trainer is all black with gold trim. His deep blue eyes gaze upon me in frustration, “You must focus on all things around you Pid, you will leave yourself open to attack without it”.
Baracus turns to walk towards the shelter as he mumbles various curses at me. “You young bucks have no attention and focus” as he slowly walks to sit down. “I was focused on my training you old goat” I persist. As we both sit down, he makes his brittle response, “Damn young blood makes poor fertilizer for our fields” as we both bellow with laughter. He is my mentor and trainer, but most of all he took me in and called me his son. He has trained me in the way of the warrior and what it means to be honorable and noble.
I could tell from the look on his face that things were not going his way, the numbers have been overwhelming but the people have been deceiving him; some people with bad intention tells him what he wants to hear but the reality is finally drawing near and redemption is shouting at the window but I could not tell from whence came that unpredictable sorrows.
The luster has gone out of his face and there was no music in the place and the universe was beckoning him to come. But he was reluctant to move. For one brief moment my eyes met his and the pupil and the retina began to sing without a specific rhythm. Something was not right and all of a sudden a shadow stood by his side and covers him.
The evening drags on and he stumbles along. He stands on the stage with a strange look in his eyes as if someone for him had just died, his droopy eyelid sagged and the hair on his head lay flat and the suit that he was wearing laid haphazardly on him as if he was drinking.
The strength and power have gone out of his voice and the purpose has already die and the people were screaming and shouting but he could not hear them. He stood and stared blindly at them as if he wanted to cry but the tears could not flow.
The night kept rumbling on and I could hear a distance song but I could not tell where it was coming from. I could tell from the look on his face that he didn’t have enough strength to complete the race. He was just going through the motions with solidarity in his heart but from the look of things he was running out of steam. The jokes were gone and his words were falling on the ground and the message was nowhere to be found.
I could tell from the look in his eyes that the rivers have gone dry not one single tear could be found in his eyes; the people's laughter have faded, the shouts and screams have died down and gossip starts circling around. Election was definitely not on his agenda something bigger than that had captivated his mind.
I have never seen him like that before with that sad droopy look on his face, you had better take him to golf court to recuperate before he drops out of the race.
I could tell from the look on his face that he detests being in that place and he was just going through the phase. Reality is just setting in and he has committed a woeful sin. It is time to start the orchestra.
Here is my story, raw and uncut.....
I was a DJ at a small gentleman's club - I loved music, and so I had an "ear" for mixing
tracks, plus with my passion of creative writing I wrote lyrics to songs. But working in a club
you're around alcohol, and drugs. I quickly got hooked on cocaine, the rich mans drug.
Liquor and cocaine was my thing. On the night of my crime, A "homeboy" of mine came
over to my apartment with some coke, I had the liquor. So we begin getting high, drinking
liquor while playing the Playstation2. We got a call from a mutual friend, a girl we had both
dated. She asked us to come over. We said we were on our way.
Now by this time, I remember, I was soooo messed up man. But I got in my car, him in
the passenger seat - on the way to Jenny's house, we are passing the bottle of Jack back and
forth. It's around 2ish in the morning. I was off that night from work.
So we pulled in the driveway, we went around back, like we always do at her house.
(Everyone goes to the backdoor). The door was unlocked, lights were off, all was quiet - we
figured she was asleep. My homeboy goes straight to the kitchen to fix him a sandwich -
don't ask me, I have no clue how he could eat. I go into the living room, she's laying on a
futon, I jump down next to her, playfully saying, "Girl get your ass up." But to my surprise
an older woman jumps up saying , "What are you doing in my house?" _ Now understand I'm
high out my mind, I was invited to Jenny's house. Who is this woman screaming, "Get out of
my house!" I say, "Where is Jenny?" And she says "No Jenny lives here!" - Then like a light
switch comes on! I realize, "Shoot I'm in the wrong house." - Now I know what you're
thinking (How would I not know?) I can only say with the amount of alcohol and coke, and
the fact, the houses looked the same (It being a subdivision) I believe that's what they call it.
So I take off running "Man we in the wrong house" I tell my homeboy. As we are leaving
I'm asking him questions like (How we not realize this isn't Jennys office?) He's got this big
stupid look on his face - A lot of what happened that night has come back to me over the
years. And the look on his face when I asked him that question confirmed - we sure was
trashed!
Continued in Part 2
She was washed up,
Her wings were crumpled,
Her body covered in blood and bruises,
An angel should never look that way.
Oh Lord bless her.
He was washed up,
His wings were cut,
His body a mask of defensive scars,
An angel should never feel that kind of pain.
Oh Lord bless him.
She woke up minutes later,
Tears streaming down her cheeks,
Without a word, she traced every bruise she had,
She smeared herself with the blood covering her hands.
Oh Lord bless her.
He woke up minutes later
A frown across his forehead
With a startle, he felt the scars he had,
He felt the half wings he now had, he cringed.
Oh Lord bless him.
She looked to her side,
Noticed a familiar sight,
It was hurt, scarred, without dignity.
Fear, fear of treading around unfamiliar territory.
Oh Lord bless him.
He looked to his side
Noticed a sight he hadn’t seen before,
It was hurt, scarred, still with dignity.
Tearful yet strong eyes around familiar territory.
Oh Lord bless her.
She stood up,
Limping, she reached to where he was,
Slowly stretched her hand out,
To help him up.
Resistant he held out his.
And thought to himself “oh Lord bless her”.
She slowly draped,
Put him up against her shoulder,
And walked him slowly to a rock.
They sat, she tired, he exhausted.
Oh Lord bless them.
She looked him in the eyes,
And slowly said. “I have been here you see,
All these trials, I have experienced it all;
Retribution, distress, anxiety. I know it all”
You have to ask the Lord to bless you, to bless us.
You see, “I was told I am a woman,
As I was told in the wise words of a great lyricist:
A really strong woman accepts the war she went through
And is ennobled by her scars”
I fall down, yes. But I always get up.
No matter how hard it is.
And ask for the Lord to bless me.
You see, “I am a woman,
And I can tell you were never stomped down,
Maybe you were the one who did the stomping before;
But it’s alright, we all make mistake”
The Lord will bless us from learning from them.
So do not cringe;
Wipe that defeated look on your face,
I will help you, that’s why we go through this.
Yes, us woman. To help others heal.
To help others cope, we are the core of every life.
We were blessed highly by the almighty.
So do not despair my friend,
All you have to do is ask.
Ask the Lord to bless us………
While walking my dog in a field one day,
a massive black bull appeared in the way.
It snorted and grunted and pawed at the ground,
I could tell by its face that I couldn’t walk round.
Now here was a problem, I had to think quick,
although in my stomach I really felt sick.
To run, or to stand there and mirror it’s stare,
the steam from its nostrils showed ‘it’ didn’t care.
Well in for a penny and in for a pound,
I ran at the beast as it stamped at the ground.
Screaming with terror, I must have been thick,
and me only armed with a very small stick.
The look on its face as it snorted with rage
turned from pure anger to one of amaze.
It turned and it trotted right out of my sight,
while I started shaking with all of my might.
My dog, then no coward, took up the chase,
and barked at the bull as it left in disgrace,
while I caught my breath and wondered just why,
I hadn’t been gored and tossed high in the sky.
This story is fiction, I’d tell you no ‘bull’,
but in my young days all the girls it helped pull.
When I meet trouble I face it head on,
though some say it’s easier to carry a gun.
The gun that I carried was my silver tongue,
though now that I think, all the girls liked that long,
but back to the story, that ‘nearly’ is true,
this tells of those problems you cannot work through.
There’s been times in life with no way around,
and truthfully this is what I have found.
Don’t stand there and take it, be sure you bite back,
even when screaming, just narrow the gap.
If you leave some space to let troubles take hold
and never take action, but let yourself fold,
then you’ll carry them with you for all of your days,
they only get worse and determine your ways.
So what if you’re frightened, or maybe get hurt,
face up to life’s terrors in one sudden spurt.
Grab the damn problem by scruff of the neck,
what is there to lose, when your down on the deck?
Then just like my bull, if you meet it head on,
you may find it’s not real, but it ruining your fun.
The problem’s invented by ‘me’, I have found,
are the ones that are hardest for me to get round.
So real or imagined don’t stand there and stare,
just run at them screaming and don’t give a care.
If they disappear, you make shake for a while,
but even if ‘tossed’ you may rise with a smile.
Ivor G Davies
Sitting, wondering, thinking, imagining.
Imagining what it would be like to go back change things.
Wondering how things would have been different.
Thinking she could have done something to change the outcome.
She closes her eyes and drifts to a place where things are like they one were.
Everyone is there, the one she misses most is there.
He's waiting for her to run to him and hug him, tell him she loves him.
She sees him and wonders why he had to go.
She becomes angry and wants to turn and run immeadiately because the pain is
too real.
Instead she stands and stares.
She looks into his eyes, trying to read every emotion, trying to see what it was that
she missed so that she can catch it if that same look of pain and hoplessness
comes into the eyes of another that she loves so much.
He calls her to him, "come here baby, I'm sorry that I left, I just didn't see any
other way out."
She stands still, tears rolling down her face, she looks at him in disbelief,
wondering how the man who was her hero is the one who has caused her the
most pain.
She continues to stand there, not knowing if she wants to hug him or turn away
because he left her.
The look on his face shows more sadness than she has ever seen, she wants
to run to him and tell him not to give up, but it's too late for he is already gone.
As she starts to walk toward him, his eyes begin to light up, it's as if he realizes
she is worth living for, even if there is nothing else, his daughter loves him and
always will.
He starts to see that he made a huge mistake.
She is still walking, the path to him seems to extend forever, like she will never
reach him.
Finally she seems to be getting closer.
She reaches him, hugs h im like never before because she knows it will be the
last.
She tells him how much she loves him, how sorry she is that she didn't do better,
that she should have paid more attention to the pain he was going through.
He just hold her and lets her cry on his shoulder, brushing her hair away from
her face and wiping her tears away just as he did when she was little.
The pain comes back into his eyes for she is opening hers back to the reality that
he is gone.
As she opens her eyes she is looking in the mirror and realizes that the eyes she
saw with such pain were her own.
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