Long Loyal Poems
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Mum thought part of her has ran far away,
But it flee to take refuge in my soul.
It appears to be gone- what single weigh,
Yet succumb its weight to make razz tease whole.
Mum, I find joy in your loyal duties;
Pleasure in her sacrifices cum care-
She did walk my legs at ease in booties,
How I hope to pay back in folds so fair.
Happy big five anniversary dates birth,
Journeying mum from noise to stress with cheers...
As much as my troubling joy brings her mirth,
She doesn't want me stop that; running years...
I duly appreciate your value dad;
For these five years, your blood runs... how so glad!
I tried to take the higher ground, I’m sorry, I just can not
The words you spoke have ricocheted and now I’m deep in thought
Did you hold her closer when she faltered? or did you take a verbal shot?
Did you place her on a pedestal? even while you fought.
I know the vibrance she once held in that we were the same
And when this little rant is done I’ll never speak your name
Hers echoes forever and yours will fade away
Just like her spirit over time you the whittler, her the fray
There was a time when she would call whenever in a bind
That was until you made your move and hid her in behind
I know exactly what you are I’ve known this all along
I hoped that since you knew this too you’d choose a different song
She deserved much more than you could give this girl was meant to fly
a few short years after you had met she chose instead to die
so, tell me mister bull when you know this all is true
why couldn’t you just love the girl that was way too good for you.
Instead you fed her poison you toyed with all her love
I know you didn’t tie the knot but you gave the verbal shove
For every time you lashed out with the nasty filth you spewed
The loving, loyal vibrant girl began to come unglued
It was your job to pick up pieces if ever they fell off
Instead you weaponized each crafted word until she had enough
Someday I may forgive you but today is not that day
Today is for the memories where now she’ll have to stay
You took her from us all you know, while she had so much left to give
That truth I bet will haunt you for as long as you shall live.
I know she’d say forgive him from somewhere up above
You didn’t deserve a single smile and certainly not her love
This poem is not about you though I know it seems that way.
I just need to make sure that she knows I’d still fight for her today
I’d have fought for you tomorrow I’d have cut armies in two
Instead you chose the only path where I couldn’t get to you
In a land beneath the sky that does not open with the daylight,
surrounded by the mountain peaks clutching the clouds of silence,
lies the hamlet of Barovia in mystique valley of perpetual twilight,
mantled at the vale’s edge by impenetrable wall of fog, the Mists.
The people live cautious lives in the shadow of monolithic misery
with faces bearing the expression of endurance shaped by suspicion.
They speak of bells that ring when no hand they see touch them,
in every conversation there’s the same unspoken topic, the castle.
Castle Ravenloft rises from its pillars of stone-like scars on the sky,
with the towers driven upward like charred ribs against the drifting fog.
Enclosed within its walls of malice the air is saturated with memories,
thoughts coil in corridors with footsteps echo even when no one walks.
Every stone of the castle is loyal to its master, Count Strahd von Zarovich,
who exists as a paradox, immortal yet decaying, powerful yet imprisoned,
moving through the castle like a steadfast notion that cannot be dismissed,
for shadows lengthen in his reverence, as if Ravenloft is his body, not home.
He is a polymath of cruelty, an epitome of endless pain that never wanes.
When he rides as the mist through the valley the Barovian hearts freeze,
and yet, he isn’t sustained by fear alone, at the core of his timeless longing
lies his love, Tatyana, who slipped through his fingers, to be a curse to the land.
Yet, Barovia endures the plight, as in secret moments fragile hope still flickers,
for the story remains unfinished, waiting at the edge of the day yet to dawn.
The tragedy of Barovia is in its replication, for every time a Tatyana is born,
a Strahd claims her, but the Mists take her away for the cycle to begin anew.
Love is the commitment based on respect
To forge an alliance in ways abstract
When two hearts unite as life's architect
Their souls intertwine by a karmic pact
Knitting the fabric of their daily life
Blissful togetherness its foundation
Nurturing exchanges devoid of strife
Each other the object of affection
Unblemished trust is the almighty glue
The strength to surmount any obstacle
Promise to be loyal faithful and true
Protecting fiercely our inner circle
Sometimes we're needing to work through baggage
To heal within a small child with damage
AP: 2nd place 2020, 3rd place 2022
Submitted on March 2, 2019 for contest WHAT IS LOVE sponsored by SILENT ONE - RANKED 2ND
Even better than finding joy
is not losing communion.
I find my most resilient joy
unfolding my larger healthy identity
commonly rediscovering contentment
in my own here/now coloring skin
on this our cooperatively managed soil
and water
and air
and fire
within Earth's co-passionately healthy climate.
I find a secular natural
yet sacred spiritual
space inside
where we have interdependently recreated joy
absorbing
mutually digesting
ingesting both pain and gain,
egocentric threat of mortal
either live or die
loss,
anthro-hubris of either ego-healthy win
or eco-wealthy lose
suffering.
My joy grows most resilient
when ego understands healthy both/and dipolar life
ego/eco bi-centering Earth-loyal service,
our healing objective for all life systems
beyond my egocentric own identity's mortal failure
to thrive with inviting personality.
To uncover joy
through Earth's timeless life regeneration;
that is my healthiest secret
of robustly wealthy happiness.
Even better than finding joy
is not losing both ego
and eco
yang with yintegral
communion.
As originally found
within each EarthMother's healthy/mutually-wealthy womb.
What is that awareness by which each body-mind feels alive and becomes aware?—Unseeking Seeker
The underlying of dog-eat-dog world,
dialogue used to defuse what’s within,
unveiling characteristics, plots and tension
Wilty pleasures of ha ha ha’s thin skin
the restless measured writing in prose
adding realism with metaphor tags
Anxiety insomniacs expose egocentricities,
loyal coterie, and owning denial lags
In what’s plain and unembellished, ordinary,
unpretentious loud screams heard
See me, feel me, read me,
clinging to ink, expecting gold
Unadorned yet in an uptight hold
Give me Kodachrome and enhance my view of life!
A brighten-filter emulsifies, nothingness’ behind
Breathe in, pause, exhaling into wake-sleep
I go beyond the sky and stars, the earth moon trails,
minus space junk’s desires, cheap mind-litter
I am Artemis ll, yet I’ve no mind-space or time
Without a shell without a conch,
I'm the propeller in a solar system
accelerating into orbital grace in a single launch
Earth appears with green auroras and zodiacal light,
A home planet, a breathtaking sight,
a sapphire hovering in velvet
The lexicon of language, the portrayal of image,
Off the cuff spontaneous levels roaming
Aware with deep breaths and where nothing nests behind
I seek refuge, I speak well-spoken, I’ve guidance unbroken
I make merits in holy days through alms,
offerings in namaskar and in mantras healing verses
I maintain these days, I Am this moment
Eye of the eye, nothing behind me coerces
Grizzled veterans gathered about their brother's bier,
To reminisce and honor their late departed peer.
They talked of yesterday when they were young and gay,
The good and bad times they'd shared along the way.
They had shared the hardships of an infantry rifle squad,
But they had survived by the merciful grace of God!
Now, the march of time was beginning to take its toll.
Another hero had answered the final call of the roll.
They laughed recalling his prankish streak;
The times he'd cheered them up when times were bleak;
The times he'd short-changed the sheets on their cots;
At reveille finding their boot strings tied in knots!
It was well known that he was their sergeant's bane.
He likewise held the army and sergeants in disdain!
In battle's din they'd want no other at their side.
They lost a true brother, a loyal buddy, when he died.
With the sound of "Taps" he began his eternal bourne.
Nine grieving brothers were left behind to mourn.
They gave him a final salute and shuffled off so slow.
Alas, who among these heroes will be the next to go?
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
The value of a hand to hold
When the skies are dark and the air is cold
When the wind whips shelters with pushes and pulls
Is worth far more than my weight in gold
You stood 4 feet and fearless the day we met
A fierce firecracker with a gentle, caring touch You've been my loyal warrior for each day since
My built-in best friend with unconditional love
You cheered me up and kept me calm
While that same old storm outside raged on
And when the lightning stopped and clouds were gone
You were still my hero—standing tall, tough, and strong
You wrapped me in warmth and picked me up when I fell
You showed me the light that lives in my eyes
You unveiled gifts I didn't know that I held
Until I saw them in you personified
Even when I stood with arms crossed and scoffed
You steered me from the destruction I sought
Even when we bickered, hurled insults, and fought You held onto me tight till the nightmares stopped
Even though you yourself were a child
A true dichotomy of grit and compassion
You turned my moments of dread to soft smiles
Brightening my days in an effortless fashion
Even when the distance grew
It never changed and I always knew
Miles meant nothing for me and you
It's just one more nothing to make it through
But my sister is only human
And she needs love too
So when that old storm starts brewing
Here lies my promise to you:
I will always hold your hand, under bright skies and dark
I will always think of you anytime we're apart
I'll stand guard at your side should any trouble start
And I will always love you—with all of my heart
Speaking only kind, constructive words about others,
Prioritizing peace among earth's sisters and brothers,
Remembering green practices, essential to our lives,
Easy as the benign habits, of honeybees in gilt hives.
Always eager to give more than likely to be received,
Devotedly loyal to a loving God, who's never deceived,
Indelibly making being good neighbors a huge priority.
Nurturing friendships helps create a friendly majority.
Generating sunny smiles, giving generously to charity.
Habitually being punctual, for it is only good manners,
As important at dinner parties, as to bold city planners.
Protecting the wild animals and their valuable habitats.
Pursuing knowledge endlessly, for knowledge attracts!
Imagination is wonderful to have, as it is never boring,
Not like the tedious, humdrum, that sets all to snoring.
Eager to do the best job possible-it makes things work.
So many things might go wrong, if each person shirked.
Stimulating dialogue, instead of quarrel, is ever a perk.
Written on 4/11/2023
For: Spreading Happiness Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
When it comes to being a good father what do most young black men see?
Can they picture their fathers passing down any legacies?
Do they remember any male bonding or talks on how to be good men?
Do they have any perceptions or even comprehend?
Unfortunately too many households are single parent with only a mother in residency
Caused by incarceration, unemployment and dysfunctional inadequacies
Too many don't have a clue of what a good father should be
As the father factor in their lives was one of obscurity
But God is the ultimate father figure to each and every man
And if you desire to be like Him read His words and follow His plans
To become a good father you must examine the Holy Scriptures
And hopefully you'll be able to obtain a good father picture
Now tapping into God's heavenly Twitter account
And Facebooking the Gospel to see what its all about
Fully prepared to formulate, cultivate and stimulate your spiritual life
So that your behavior and way of thinking lines up with Jesus the Christ
A picture of a good father is a man who leaves a financial legacy
So that his children won't exist in a state of abject poverty
By showing them how to save and how to invest
Leaving a fruitful inheritance and a full hope chest
A picture of a good father is a man whose vine is rooted in a strong foundation
And structured to lift him up in godly formation
Respectful, resilient, loving, loyal and kind
Of strong moral conviction and secure in his mind
Knowing who he is and what he could be
And having healthy relationships with every member of his family
So if you're broken, bitter, angry and have any doubts
Seek God and a professional to help you work it out
And i say this to all women and I hope you receive
You need to let a man be a man to his family
Stop disrespecting him and put your anger and pride to the side
He is doing the best he can so work with him by walking stride for stride
A picture of a good father is a man concerned about his community
Who comprehends we live in a global society
A man who gets involved and not stay isolated
As we are all a part of this world that God created
A picture of a good father is a man who loves and respects his family and community
A man strongly rooted, striding humbly and secure in his spirituality