Long Monuments Poems
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I took a trip to Paris, France and of course I wanted to see all the attractions,
walk the boulevards, see the museums and art galleries, linger at an outdoor
cafe watching people stroll while sipping on wine and munching on cheese and
bread. I wanted to float down the Seine by boat at night. But my reason, for
this trip was to go to Le Pere Lachaise Cemetery, for that is where my family
ancestors are buried. I knew it would not be easy to find them as this cemetery
is huge, spread over 110 acres, over one million people buried there since 1804.
I walk the paths
lingering at mossy tombs:
a thousand birds sing
It is an amazing cemetery with many famous people buried there like Chopin,
Oscar Wilde, Monet, Voltaire, Degras and thousands more, but also ordinary
people. From simple unadorned headstones to huge towering monuments.
One needs a guide map to navigate the roads and pathways through this maze
of stone. I finally had to go to the office for direction and help to locate my
ancestors grave sites.
death has no time
for in my heart you exist
the smell of decay:
I found out some disturbing information, the plots are leased for 50, 30, 10
years and if not renewed the remains are removed, boxed and tagged and
moved to Aux Morts Assuary in a single tomb. When the Assuary gets over-
crowed the remains are removed, incinerated and the ashes returned.
And that is where my ancestors are, nothing but ashes in eternal storage. The
Aux Morts (To the Dead) Assuary is closed to the public, I found that very
odd and it made me quite sad. Why, what are they hiding?
And those plots where the remains were removed from are re-leased to others,
well that is how the cemetery can keep up on the burials, apparently there is a
long waiting list. I am happy my family plot is in a cemetery in Canada where
the remains of those buried will never be touched.
___________________
July 25, 2017
Haibun/Le Pere Lachaise Cemetery
Copyright Protected, ID 923378
Written for the Haibun Contest
Sponsor Debbie Guzzi
First Place
Stone clad hotels and banks,
stone-faced facades.
Stone monuments carved by old money.
The stone-poor have no stone history,
they will leave no archeology
to be excavated and raised.
Their throw-away artifacts
go to the landfills,
If they have stone. it must be dug up
to clear the way for more hard-scabble.
Here is a celluloid picture,
I am in my prime,
a pretty woman by my side,
we walk a downtown boulevard
where solid stone is raised high.
The image engenders another image,
that same photograph
bursting into flame,
now curling to ash in a grand chimney
and hearthside,
a fireplace that speaks
of an opulent and gilt-edged wealth -
one built of an ageless and abiding
stone.
A sea of marble markers
In perfect rows and place
Adorn the sprawling green
Above each cherished face.
Beneath the graven tombstones
Are soldiers low and dear.
Void of breath, still, at peace
Full of honor, lost in tears.
No one will forget these lives
Though silent, markers speak.
White monuments still stand
Like glorious mountain peaks.
Trumpets blare their tributes clear
Through heaving, sobbing faces.
Salutes surround the site
Where loved ones kneel in places.
Their dear loss is not in vain
They bore great pain for us.
High is the soldier's worth
Come lift a grateful chorus.
Roll on, Potomac, roll on
Roll on, Potomac, roll on,
Your banks cradle history, where legends are drawn.
From the heart of the nation, our dreams have been sown,
So roll on, Potomac, roll on.
In the shadow of monuments, the tall cherry trees,
Whispers of freedom dance on the breeze.
Washington’s vision, with courage he leads,
Roll on, Potomac, roll on.
The whispers of Congress, decisions unfold,
The spirit of democracy, brave and bold.
With Jefferson dreaming of futures untold,
So roll on, Potomac, roll on.
Through the echo of battles, where valor took flight,
Voices of patriots' stand firm in the night.
They fought for our rights, with honor and might,
So roll on, Potomac, roll on.
At Georgetown’s old docks, trade flows like a stream,
The lifeblood of commerce, the pulse of a dream.
Bringing together the hopes of a team,
So roll on, Potomac, roll on.
From the hills of Virginia to Maryland’s shore,
The tales of our nation forever will soar.
With unity forged, we strive for much more,
So roll on, Potomac, roll on.
These noble men toiled, their vision so clear,
Building a capital that we hold so dear.
Their legacy shines, as we gather here,
So roll on, Potomac, roll on.
Amber branches now reach up to azure clouded skies
once so beautifully verdant
against the hills and ravines
but now
these monuments to longevity
these lungs of the earth
are charred bits
of ash
carelessly lite by an aimless unchecked cigarette butt
and I wonder
how can something so magnificent
be so easily destroyed
by something so insignificant as a smoking cigarette butt...
as well as this tragedy
there is the displacement of many and varied species
nests of the birds
home for the bears
and a wilderness that is playground to deer and rabbits...
my eyes fill with water
stinging as I think of the thoughtless strike against nature
her long suffering embrace still holding us firm
despite countless ways
we have
usurped her grace, sublime beauty, and pristine nature.
I probably am the only one in the Big Apple to admit,
" The bigger the city, the lonelier one feels! "
Skyscrapers are modern monuments built against a foggy sky;
many feel lonely and bored in them, and the irony is that to rent
or buy luxurious suites is prohibitive to people who struggle
to survive, only a Trump or a Gates can afford them! Is their affluenza
effecting you? Be real: you can't have any of them, unless you hold
that lucky Lotto or Mega ticket! My advice is to keep on living
as usual and let dreams of wealth glide you by as puppet balloons
in a Thanksgiving Parade! Go to Central Park and take a stroll,
or try ice-skating...it's fun! There are a thousands of things
to do in Manhattan! Go to see a Broadway Musical or have dinner
at The Tavern On the Green with friends who are as bored as you!
No! Don't sit on that sofa and watch movies on demand!
Yes, be good to yourself....get out and enjoy life! Laugh! Run! Scream!
Do anything and everything! Have the audacity to challenge and win!
Let everyone know that are alive regardless of your social status:
money can offer lots of expensive things most of us
can't even imagine in a million of years! Search for
the simpler things that are more fun and cost almost nothing!
Entered in Julia Ward's contest,
" Bored in Manhattan "
Written on 12/ 28/ 2015
A strong leader is not a fist
but a pair of hands
held open at the table.
Not the shout from the balcony
but the quiet bending
to lift a child’s fallen shoe.
They stand like a spine in the storm,
not to dominate the wind
but to keep the roofs from lifting.
They count the bodies not as numbers
but as ribs that rise and fall,
as mouths that must be fed,
as backs that need a bed
that does not smell of fear.
They know the elderly by the softness
of their wrists,
the way their bones float
like birds beneath the skin.
They know children by the speed
of their questions,
the way hope spills from them
before they learn to ration it.
A strong leader does not harvest war
like a crop of flags.
They plant schools.
They irrigate clinics.
They build kitchens where hunger
is not inherited.
They walk through hospitals
as if through their own future,
touching the hands that tremble
with pain and trust.
They teach by standing straight,
by keeping their word,
by choosing the long work
over the loud victory.
They make adults who know
how to hold anger without throwing it,
who know how to disagree
without drawing blood.
A strong leader leaves behind
not monuments,
but people who know how to care
for one another
when the leader is gone.
They lead not with fire
but with warmth.
Not with fear
but with bread.
They do not rule.
They serve.
And in their shadow
children grow taller,
the old sleep easier,
and the nation breathes
like a body finally safe
enough
to rest.
Requiem for America!
Requiem for the death of our
National liberty and freedom.
Requiem for the American dreams.
Requiem for the freedom of expression.
Requiem for the Statue of Liberty!
Requiem of the land of the free and
The home of the brave!
Requiem for the power of the press.
The death of our governmental democracy.
Is being carefully planned and orchestrated.
By hostile nations located on the eastern side
Of the Atlantic Ocean.
"Chanting death to America! Death to the
America's God! Death to the American flag!
Death to the American beacon of freedom and
Liberty! Death to Freedom and Democracy!
We have won! And defeated the great Satan, America!
Death, total destruction and no quarter!
Requiem for Old Glory, our national flag.
Requiem for blue lives matter!
Requiem for de-funded police departments.
Requiem for our national monuments,
And national documents.
Requiem for safe and stable
City streets. Business are being
Closed down! But people have
To earn a living so their families can eat!
Requiem for our representative government!
Victory for the followers of hate speech,
Victory for the believers of political correctness.
Victory for those against freedom of thinking,
Acting and expression!
Victory for violent riots and protests on our cites streets.
Victory for those shutting down the operations of
Our cities and our towns. And harassing and killing
Our own people! Victory for gun violence on
City streets. Victory for rape, murder and mayhem
And real chaos and confusion!
Victory for paid professional Communist agitators.
Who hide themselves under the banner of
Black Lives Matter. Those people Who believe in a
Just cause have been hijacked! "If black people are
Not careful, they could lose their nation!" Love
From Venezuela!
Requiem for freedom of religious expression being classified
As hate speech! Requiem celebrating the demise of
Our beloved nation America. Requiem for the death
Of the Ten Commandment monuments. Courtesy of Freedom
From Religion Coalition. They do not want to be held accountable
To God! They want to deny his very existence!
Love in Christ Jesus!
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/ October Country
July 07, 2020
Inside my house – inside myself
Hushed in the reckoning of my living
I drift in streams that have taken me here.
As I contemplate my age, my years,
Now belied by restful wisdom
I am complete and unalterable.
I have come to my final destination, my end.
My mouth is agape in the sullen silence of remembrance.
My hair, a turbulent gray, draped like ghostly storm clouds-
A torrent flooded by a life that tested my courage and strength.
My skin slumping with the weight and furrows like rivulets
Of weary responsibilities now embedded
Awaken me to the toil of pain and endurance.
My eyes weakened from flooding visions-
Monuments of life, death and love
Retreat into a myriad of sentiments.
I now reside with gratitude and humility of the meek and mild,
As I translate my time on earth as mere footsteps before my grave.
My pride is diminished by years of compassion,
For all trials I have faced and challenges I have met-
I stayed in the stream.
I flowed within a hurricane of waters that surged mercilessly
Along the divide of faith and love.
Now I am enraptured in the subtle estuary of love remembered
Where joy triumphs and promises become the virtue of living.
My moments fly overhead like rare birds in forgiving skies
Beyond oceans of turmoil they find their place of sanctuary
Where the islands of contentment greet them
As they wistfully land to take sanctuary in my heart.
September 23, 2021
Islands In The Stream Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Craig Cornish
Before the last of the Ancients from Eden had returned to death ,
It was decided that with their direction and wisdom Stones of meaningful proportion and weight should be used to measure the cosmic traveling and mark our point of perspective from then on.
Those Alignments would allow a link to the stars and celestial movings that infinity travels upon ,
reminding also of the male and female balance that is and would always be .
For a mountains age ,our people would observe their true origin and place in the great all and everything.
Their construction of these raised stones and lintel ,as well as successive generations would continue to orbit around that great shining star,
seasons shall be recognised determined and endlessness suggested.
Monoliths were also put in place for the passing moonths ,that would wax and wain illuminating the legion of marked centuries which would then come to pass.
For 9 thousand generations of people-kind shall our places of science and observation stand
looking upon the universes boundless wade .
A tribute to the future from the past , monuments marking our journey ,
These noble sentinels looking silently skyward ,
awaiting the great return .