Long Mentor Poems
Long Mentor Poems. Below are the most popular long Mentor by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mentor poems by poem length and keyword.
You're not my little sister or a cousin, but someone made by me
If I wasn't one before, a man is what you made me be
Yes this is true, your mother did play her part
Three females have a share in my life, with you closest to my heart
Strength usually came from my mother, now it's from you
Making every excruciating work day worth going through
There's always pain when I see tears in your eyes
When it comes to giving discipline, my emotions are disguised
You're my compliment, my angel and my mini me
I would always be your biggest fan, seeing what others can't see
I would always and forever be that first man in your life
The one who knows you well and also how to make it right
I want you to stand up on your own and be an independent queen
Making a success out of life by doing the right thing
You're still a child right now and learning to navigate the world
The years most fathers cherish are the years your a daddies girl.
Older Than I Remember
Things have not gone,
the way that you believe they should.
I have not said a thing.
Things are not what they need to be,
but that does not matter.
I will stand beside you forever.
Getting old, life happens.
Being young was easy.
Now everything must be;
measured, counted, poked, prodded,
cut, snipped, or looked at.
Vampires are fed often,
the amount of blood requested,
on any given trip,
gallons.
Cancer, prostate,
high blood pressure,
or worse.
Nitrous…
Headaches, depression,
brought on by too many
visits to too many places,
you were never supposed to go
if and or unless…
you were dragged.
It is hard to remember,
When we danced all night.
Now we take turns on the walker.
Now we have a plate on the car.
You are still everything to me.
I know we are not the same,
But I believe we are better.
I would not change a day…
a moment, an instance,
from here to there,
for anything else.
The word my heart speaks,
out loud to my soul,
not in a whisper,
but in prayer,
to my God…
humbly,
thanks.
sweet candy used to be a friend of mine
sour mold is now the enemy i fall for
the air is so cold down here
i am impervious to dying
the well is now dry here
for some reason i keep on going
maybe it is what my mother told me about faith before colon cancer claimed its next victim
perhaps that faith is the guardrail i have been invisibly holding on to all this time
this faith....it is my umbrella in any level of rain
then again, it is sort of like my protective coating for the vulnerable skin of my obvious underconfidence
i always accept every offer when the door knocks....wherever i am....
sour mold used to be the enemy i fall for
sweet candy is now a friend of mine
The rising sun has set.
Night has fallen.
The plow rests,
tillage and toil finished.
The corn ear withers,
but seeds are saved.
The scrolls are opened
event recorded;
the news spread:
"The sun has set,
the old Owl has flown
into the Heavens."
Yet, the sun will rise
and peek over the horizon,
the tractor will roar,
a new crop will sprout,
Green hands will turn brown
the flag will wave,
financial accounts recorded,
hospitality offered,
and the light of brotherhood shared.
Your torch has lit fires
that flicker and flame;
The fledgling will grow
and, hopefully, become wise;
New eras and life-chapters
will begin,
continuing the credo
as a Legacy to you:
"Learning to Do,
Doing to Learn,
Earning to Live,
Living to Serve."*
*National FFA Organization Motto
Maestro – 4-23-24
Dedicated to Dr. Stanley Chapple. Co-founder of Tanglewood. Conductor of the London Philharmonic. Head of the Music School University of Washington. Conductor of the University of Washington Symphony Orchestra. Beloved Professor and so much more!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Maestro
Music flowed from his baton
Like water from his English wellspring,
Taming trills in the perfume of restless scherzos
Coaxing shy adagios into lyrical splendor
Charming sinuous rondos into sinuous symphonies
Coaxing Thalia from cobwebs into tarantellas
In tangled woods and brick paths lined with cherry trees.
Bewitching a young baton to rise
Like a cobra hypnotized in west side stories
In concert with souls of Glorianna and Appalachia’s spring
And arabesques of rodeos to fanfares voces
Riding on concertos beckoning for east to oceans west
To streets glistening in an hourly carillon cadence,
Rain showers so like the Old City’s rhythms,
He found sheltered rests beneath gothic eaves
Soaring with scores of venomous revenge,
And octaves in librettos of a butterfly’s death,
To crescendo young symphonic dreams and emeritus chords
Maestro, melodic mentor, gift and inspiration
Friend of Lenny, Ben and Aaron.
Through shifting tides and skies of gray,
One light remained to guide my way.
Through storms and trials, you stayed by my side,
Whichever place, whichever time.
No fleeting love, no passing phase,
A bond that warmed my darkest days.
No matter the chaos, the pain or the fight,
You are my anchor, my shining light.
She grew up with a father’s name,
But felt alone, though not to blame.
They loved the celebrity, not her true self,
A child just wanting friendship past wealth.
Music runs through us, a timeless stream,
From my father's sax to the songs you dream.
The melodies play, but it's more than just sound,
In our hearts, this rhythm is always found.
In every chord, she found her way,
A friend in music, where thoughts could stay.
With every note, her soul would sing,
A dream to make her own life ring.
She stepped from the shadow, so vast and wide,
She found her way, with music to guide.
With every step, she claimed her name,
A woman now, not just part of fame.
I wanted to run up the mountains of Ibiza,
Only to run back down one, fast and strong,
But James had passed on a while back,
And when more normal, I did to him belong.
So I did not suggest my desire to my dad,
For a few days because I feared him sane,
About me being my brother’s child really,
About me knowing it with all my brain.
But I wanted him to know i resent no carer,
No mentor who was an atheist on my level,
‘Cos I had one at school who was slammed,
Since they knew with him I wouldn’t bevel.
So I told them I wanted to climb a mountain,
Straight, not with strings or emotional tone,
And he growled something in scathing return,
So I decided from then to use the home phone.
Five score minus eight years ago
January eighteenth two thousand twenty one
father of civil rights movement
the revered Martin Luther King Junior honored
as benevolent demigod figure
to the oppressed African American population
without whose bold risks
and subsequent brutal assassination April fourth
ninety sixty eight at the hands
of a crazed gunman (James Earl Ray),
whereby all the King's men
and all the King's horses...,
still aghast at tragic event
while reverberations felt forty two years later,
where embedded white privilege
begets continued racial strife
analogous to uncorked raging tempest
saddling people of color to human bondage
(no matter ponying up excellent equestrians),
nevertheless wrought empowerment
advancing cherished dreams
of slaves recent descendents
allowing, enabling and providing
once attainable aspirations
only bestowed upon
the self anointed masters and early settlers of
the virginal North American contiguous land mass
yet…generations prior
to this prestigious public personality
Abolitionists pitted themselves
against the institution of slavery
incrementally raising awareness
regarding the abomination
forced servitude incurred on those shackled
thus setting the stage
for this grandson of A.D. Williams
a rural parsonage,
who ministered spiritual support
for the small congregation
(initially only thirteen members)
comprising attendants at
Ebenezer Baptist church in Atlanta Georgia
setting precedent for freedom
(at risk of life and limb) against scourge of
racial prejudice courtesy
of sharecropper grandparents
whose objection to racial segregation
based on an affront to the will of God,
whereby the young whip smart precocious lad,
(whose impact we now memorialize)
showed his true colorful promise
when a young student at
Liberal Crozer Theological Seminary
in Chester, Pennsylvania
where the yet uncrowned
eminent king came under the influence
of theologian Reinhold Niebuhr,
a classmate of his father's
at Morehouse College
who became a mentor by exposing
his protégée to liberal views of theology
Morning knocks on us
As I commingle with him,
My mentor ,with dread of poetic locks
With God, not of them became parts
For my thoughts still shrouded of secrecy.
Of no count are them
Drinking from the calabash of ignorance
Ascribing artificial misery of man to God
Dreaming of it a time of His ascendence . . . throne
To the abysmal of our own earth of gloominess
For a case already settled in Paradise
Heaven knows that God has given water freely
But they tag price on poor pure satchet for us
Our land speak of bountiful crops
Yet our mouth chew bountiful hunger,
NO! No!! No!!! not a case with God again
It is a case of them the ruling vampires.
The dreamers must stop dreaming
Time for the ignorants to join us
To bring down the vampire's empire
Our case is with them, not with Him up above.
Alayande Stephen.T
16th, August, 2006
2.35am
I Just Am
“In the ever present moment
you just are.”
That was it! All he said in response
to my pleas for enlightenment.
Just be where you are
when you are supposed to be there.
Which I eventually figured out
meant always.
“How will I know if I am there
when I’m supposed to be there?”
He responded “If you are present
in the eternal present moment
you will be there when
you are supposed to be there.”
“Why are you here in this moment”
I asked. He answered “because you
are here in this same moment”.
“God, I hate talking to you.”
“That’s because in this moment
you are supposed to be listening.”
The thought of condensing all of
his remaining present moments
into this one crossed my mind.”
“Why am I in these ever changing-
ever present moments.”
“Because the moment is ever present
you are present in that moment
for a purpose.”
“And what would that purpose be?”
“That will become apparent to you
in that ever present moment.”
I am not sure what he was trying
to teach me, or if I ever learned it.
Somehow I came to realize one simple
inescapable fact as true –
In the ever present moment -
I just am.
John G. Lawless
12/25/2014