Long Maries Poems
Long Maries Poems. Below are the most popular long Maries by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Maries poems by poem length and keyword.
On the twentieth floor of a high rise flat,
A new born baby cries by his mother’s side
Her name was Marie with no where to bide,
No father came to chase the rats.
The child lay in an old pram with no wheels,
No warm cot as the hospital was full.
On this cold winter night stars shone down,
Bringing no comfort in their nightly bloom.
She had left her country of warming sand,
To keep her baby safe from invaders hand.
Her husband died saving them both,
Pushing them onto an unsafe boat.
After months of agonizing fearful travel,
Arriving at a place safe and free,
Kept as a prisoner within a shed,
She cried to heaven, God save me.
A gaggle of young children came to look,
Disturbed at Maries baby’s awful plight,
Scampering off again into the night,
Shouting don’t worry Marie it will work out right.
She smiled wanely as she weakly rocked the babe,
Three men came in finely dressed and laughing,
Sneering at her and her new born child,
She screamed at them to go leaving no gift,
As they shrugged and laughing went.
Lying back on a soiled pillow seeking some sleep,
Hearing the rats scrapping at her feet,
Again she screamed and kicked them away,
She knew they would be back another day.
Church bells faintly rang through the frosty mist,
a congregation in finery sang their carols,
would she be missed at the food bank door,
night drew on darkness deep and dire,
what she would give for a warming fire.
Threadbare clothes pulled tight to her skin,
Cuddling her babe as her tears splashed down,
Holding him close to generate heat,
Cold biting hard at his little feet.
A friend came in at near dawn,
carrying some food and a warming blanket.
As dawn fully rose all was quiet,
No sound was heard in the dereliction,
Of this unholy squaler and rubbish,
The weak sun shone through the broken glass,
Upon three figures holding each other fast,
No sound was heard no baby cries,
No one to miss them at the homeless fires.
© andrew .provan.mcintyre.7 january 2018.
Stare-well.! gazing..As emotions and souls to your Majestic fields aspire..
Temporal surrounds me, ambiguous background; below crested fallow moons.."
Amplified." Intensity' as stellar images fall silently; while cresendos of beauty abound
Innumerable shifts of light and dark in shaded displays make play! & re-plays are seen.
Roaming tails of light deny non-existence, "and pass on" in twillight realms...
Wholly indescribable energy masses pirouette; in an eternity of loose and endings"
Always immaculate ways, and untrod paths scintillate to Mercurial growth anon..)
Yea' though is interposed my earthly being; tis the more to highlight heavenly ways,
To rebirth.! "and with all glory" the celestial tapestry alludes to His-story.."
Orbs in incandescence implode.! as platignum stairways transpire..)
Though my script be no match.) the words not worthy of re-counting be, so let it be.!
Haze's of swirl glazed and gaseous liquid nimbus; gather possibility's beyond reason
Eclipse, is a true part of the many story's played upon this..! of aeons august stage.
Starry foot-light stair-well "to be or not to be"of such is all the honor i seek to attain,
True enrichment there'to is revolving; where'of my soul is to pertaining
And there my"die is cast..!as midst the maddening crowd" i cry with sullied eyes.)
Revering and wishing upon the great lights life i see in para-present skies
So i endure..passing all lights are.! await i "a mote of such to be,In the one Gods sight.
Copyright Joe Maverick.co.uk 2012 For Linda-Maries Stairway to the stars contest.
Stow Maries.
Wings of war like paper butterflies
once floated down upon this grassy plain
war machines of moments gone
honeysuckle and wild rose
now cling to silent buildings
empty shells of ghostly past
listen and hear within the broken walls
voices of those who came
to serve..to fly..to die.
a gentle breeze sings songs of
soldiers who sleep nearby
in churchyard graves
time passes and the horses hooves
race along the fields
primroses, snowdrops and bluebells
rejoice in a better time
but soon the dark days of another war
return and bring the iron machines
from out the skies
as drone of planes
fills the springtime air
black gases and polluted wrath
bring death to flowers
while buildings come alive
with sounds of fowl to feed a hungry nation.
the winds of war retreat and
memories are brought to life
revived, restored,
and the airfield of Stow Maries
like a phoenix lives again,
a different time and light
its past to never be forgotten.
In memory of those who died in WW I and II and used this aerodrome in Essex, England.
Form:
Sea at Les Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer
Van Gogh sat staring at the choppy waters
Nothing yet? His brother asked. He did not reply.
He was in artist mode.
Picked up a brush and began
Splashing white capped waves
Hostile swirling wind especially above fishing boat
Angry storm began taking form
So angry the sails were gone from the boat
Van Gogh was in another world; he could hear no one
Bright titanium white horse emerged at the water’s edge
dark delivery wagon and loan figure made a solid contrast
Van Gogh began using wider curvier strokes,
blending one color after another in ombre fashion
His ideas coming faster and faster now
The sky began taking on new colors, new shades, new hues.
He added a reflection of the boat in the water
Five women waiting for their men on shore
A field of wheat leaning toward the west, torn up by the wind.
It was a furious painting, stormy and magnificent.
He painted this in 1888, the eight such painting
this year, and one of his favorites.
But of course he was not satisfied with it.
So he had to create another one.
I pity the refugee’s road of flight,
the children of the shanty and the gun
who on all humanity are a blight -
who die or live unto be an orphan.
I pity the meagre, the forgotten
who a crisis of ravages endure,
whose fate is that of the misbegotten
and whose need is now, real, grave, just, and raw!
I pity the terrorised, the wartorn,
the sacked and conquered that bury their dead -
the child bride, the child slave still to be born
and alas the lost soul already bred.
I pity the brave girl I used to know
and wonder dreadfully where did she go?
Written: August 2006
*I wrote this many years ago about a little girl
in Sierra Leone named Marie (pictured above)
during the civil war who I used to sponsor.
She and her family had to flee their village
and I never heard from her again. That was in
1997. Seems the one constant in this world is
conflict. Dedicated to all the Maries out there.
It took our boys,
And turned them into men.
It raped our girls,
And made them pregnant with hate.
It took away the toys from our children's hands,
And taught them to toy with each other's lives.
Weapons are no longer made for wars,
But wars are made for weapons.
Leaders watch the nation burn,
So they can bask in the ashes.
Where do we head?
With necks denied their heads?
The blood is creating a red carpet in the roads,
So that a leader's shoes escape the dust.
But hands will shake,
Once the people are weak enough to be feasted upon once more.
The people shall be given a circus,
And soon they shall forget.
They shall come together,
Like scattered grains of rice,
So that the upper class can have a mouthful.
They shall bury the past,
But hold on to their hatchets.
They shall have a different script read out to them,
And a few Hail Maries, for all leaders come from God.
(A poem for Nigeria )
Elliepoet
Form:
If there were a star that I could buy
a twinkling star up in the sky,
there's but one star so very high
shining brightly, do or die
To the Holy City, it shows the way
the brightest star, it is still this day,
I wish I might, I wish I may
to own this star to give away
I'd place it in sweet Marys hand
and wish us to the promised land,
to the very spot, where it all began
the Heavenly birth, of the Son of Man
David, is the name of the star
it can be seen from away,afar
we could travel there, no-one shall bar
to pray beneath, that Holy star
But, I don't have to buy that star you see
because David's there for her and me,
for with our Lord we'll always be
the gift, a star for her from me.
This is for Linda Maries ( Sweethearts) contest
Do you believe in "Everlasting Love"
Love that gets two hearts to fly
Whispering words of love and sweet kisses
Magic and passion - wipe out all tears
Trust and truth without voice
As real shiny gold and green forests
The taste of love - surrounded in gold
no face can hide such feelings
Love, fate, romance will breathe forever
Linda Marie says it is: "Life Wheel -
breathing for eternity ..... "
- My thoughts about her poem: "Everlasting Love"
- Linda Maries heart was made of shiny gold !
- R.I.P.
06.02.2014
A-L Andresen :)
Sponsor:Andrea Dietrich
Contest Name:Remembering Linda-Marie: Tribute Poetry
Deadline:2/25/2014
(1st place in the contest)
Oh! What a journey
We have walked through fields of gold
And stood beneath starry nights
Moon dust in our eyes
specks still glowing on our tongues
And in our folds and creases
Do you remember?
The gardens at Montmartre
And those courtyards where we stayed
Oh! The memories
The Seashore near Saints Maries
I can almost feel her breeze
Do you remember?
The flower beds in Holland
A quilt of many colors
And the poppy fields
Swaying in a summer breeze
Under cloudy canopy
We have seen the world
You and I – through Vincent’s eyes
Etched forever in our souls
Now we come to rest
Here! at the end of the road
The shoes of Vincent Van Gogh
~~~
Author: Elaine George