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Long Poems
Long poem by curtis johnson | Details

The Christmas Stench

The Christmas Stench
By Curtis Johnson 

There was once a minister who moved to San Francisco to pastor a little church.  The name of that little church was Emmanuel which means “God with us”.  There was an atmosphere about that little church that said to strangers or homeless ones, “welcome, come right in.”  This young pastor had lots of experience with all kinds of people, but on the streets of San Francisco he met someone very special.

One night after the close of the service as the people began to leave for home, a stranger walked up.  Tall, thin, hungry, and homeless, the stranger said to the young preacher, “I would like some toast and eggs sunny side up.”  The pastor was happy to feed the hungry homeless man, but “sunny side up?”  The pastor thought that he was asking a bid much.  The young minister figured that he should be content with whatever he’s given.  So the pastor gave the stranger what he had and everybody was happy.

A few days later the man rang the door bell of the parsonage which was on the second floor up from the sanctuary.  He said, “this is Reuben.”  So the pastor and his family got to know Reuben because he came by for food on a regular basis.  Sometimes the pastor thought that Reuben came too much and at the wrong time.  The minister felt that he was too busy.  He had a full-time job, a church to pastor, a wife, and three small kids.  Yes, he was a man with a plan.  What he didn’t have was a ‘good attitude about Reuben’.  Reuben 101 was not offered at his ministerial school.

The Thanksgiving Holiday came and the family always shared a great feast with their relatives across the bay.  After Thanksgiving, the pastor decided that they would invite Reuben for their Christmas Dinner.  But wait! The minister thought.  “We have small children; Reuben is dirty, smelly, and who knows what might be attached to his body.”
So all agreed that Reuben  would be given a bath and cleaned up for Christmas Dinner.
We’ll find him some cloths and dress him up real good.  “But wait!  Where will  he take this bath?”, the young pastor thought.  Reuben is dirty, smelly, and who knows what might be attached to his body.
They felt it wouldn’t be good for the kids if they bathed him in the parsonage , not to mention the stench.  
So they decided to borrow a big tin tub from a church member.  So the pastor obtained the tub and helped Reuben take a bath in his office at the church below.  Looking back it occurred to that pastor that they never taught him in Bible College how to bath another man in San Francisco.

So in 1984, on Christmas Day, in the city by the Bay, at a church called Emmanuel, upstairs in the parsonage, Reuben had a memorable dinner with the pastor and his family.  In the minds of this little family with three children ages 3, 7, and 11, they will always remember that Reuben was truly their Emmanuel(God with us).

Cj121906 P.S.  Barb and I recently visited our  youngest son Jemuel who was 3 at the time, is now 25.  We asked him if he remembered Reuben.  He said, “No, but I remember the stench”.

Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Robert Candler | Details

Circle of Life - A Pet Story

It seems like just the other day
Our pup, Shadrack, did pass away;
And altho’ they never seemed like friends,
My old cat, Jorg, knew Shad had met
   his untimely end.

He mourned his loss every day
And looked for Shadrack everywhere.
He’d mew and moan as if to say,
“We were friends.  I do care.”

Then one night, an eerie howl
Awoke me from my sleep.
He’d found Shad’s toys and left no doubt
That his feelings did run deep.

So our tedious search began
To find another likely pup;
But while my poor wife still grieved,
Could another measure up?

We went to Second Chance and Free to Live.
She just could not make up her mind.
She loved them all; but, if she picked just one,
The rest would have to stay behind.

Then, quite by chance, there was a “pound pup”
Who’d been picked up from the streets.
He was a mutt, a “schnauza-pug”;
But he was awfully sweet.

He jumped up and kissed her frantically.
He seemed aware of his “iffy” situation.
He made the best of his opportunity.
Tears of joy told her elation.

“This is the one”, she smiled through tears,
As she held him... oh, so tight.
“I’m sure that Jorg will like him too.
Everything will be alright”.

And so it was, until one day
When old Jorg did pass away…

There was no hesitation on this sad occasion;
Come Saturday morning, we went straight 
   to the pound,
Open minded and hoping to be “saviors”,
Surely a nice cat was to be found.

“Sadly”, the lady said,” three kitties have only today.
There’s Andre and Panda and another one too”.
My wife smiled and said, “Jorg was your boy.  You pick.
They’re both beautiful cats.  It’s up to you”.

As I pondered this commitment
Another cat, a young one, caught my eye.
Like Jorg, he was a common gray tabby.
Fond memories were stirred.  I almost cried.

On closer look, his name was Boris;
And, strangely, he was number three.
There was a small sign on his crate,
“I don’t like other cats and other cats don’t like me”.

But there was character in his eyes and he was cute.
He was rolling and purring and stretching.
He seemed to look deep into my heart
And did his best to be quite fetching.

But because he was just a common gray tabby,
And because of the little sign,
His chances were slim, his future quite dim
And one day is precious little time.

For a moment I was lost in his eyes
And I heard his desperate plea, 
“I’m a swell cat and litter box trained.
Take me.  Please, take me”.

“Well”, my wife urged, “is it Andre or Panda”?
“One of us will take the other kitty.”, two older ladies chimed.
“You can each have one ladies”, I said with a smile.
I want Boris and he wants to be mine”.

In just hours he was romping and rolling with Pepper,
Who had happily welcomed his new friend.
Boris was a perfect fit, an affirmation;
The Circle of Life never ends.

Much more Joy than Sadness in this Circle,
And there should never be regrets.
Honor their memories and all the love they share,
Never break the Circle, never be without a Pet.

Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014

Long poem by Mike Liquori | Details

Baltimore 4-28

Baltimore 4-28

Lets start,
By being real, 

I mean really, real! 

With harsh truths that need to be freed from our fragile lie, 

It is easy to say, or see "thugs", "punks" in the streets of BWI! 

But as I remove my eye from looking to weak,
and look from within at human torment, 
I see a generation lost. 
These are just scared kids!
By in-large they are alone, 
fatherless and some homeless, 
But all in pain,
And deep seeded need.
What a joke to hear "land o'plenty" while on a bleeding, bent knee. 

They are a generation lost upon the sea,
A ship sailing in the dark,
With no port to see,
No destination to guide with faint distant light. 
 
The cities are tinder boxes of oppression's disenfranchised youth...
looking to be heard, in the follies of the absurd.
  
Where do they go?
When will we lend an understanding ear?
or what do they say when it finally hears...
DO you want the answers that they live? 
The reply given in reality with the caps flying from a nine? 
Weaving and dodging all the god forsaken years. 
As any kid will do, 
They survive,
its the best they can do.

In the freshness, the excitement, 
They rush like a river broken free,
from the walls of opposition,
that was holding it back,
not only with our words, like "Your fenced off from that" 
but also in action, 
Cities full of scars. 

We must truly see the system is rigged from them to me.

Never really thought much about it,
We all know how white and easy answers can be,

But lets get real, fanning the fires flames,
is all they feel. 
Burning them insane! 
  
The failure is now upon all of us, 
my people, our time,
Our clock just struck twelve!
 
This generation,
Not just the white and black men, 
But also all the others on planet earth accompanying with them! 
The black brother must acknowledge,  how they let the child down, 
while the white man acknowledges that we pushed them even father around. 
In the end..... we both let everyone down, 
The sons,
The daughters 
we left,
and then never came 'round! 

Baltimore the city just showed up to say,
Get you acts together,
And start building docks right away! 
Make no more haste together, 
Get your kids to the harbor,
Now! Start today! Because you've wasted all the tomorrows! 
 
As my eye is father opened, 
What if that was me? 
Who spiked a pillar in a sandy spot out to sea?
So I wrote this up,
Where I started to say,
resolute on the matter,
that just maybe,
we can build a dock together and get some kids back safe, 
No more black or white pillar, 
just one great giant dock.
My safe American Family!
Complete with an anchor and the rope to adhere, 
courtesy of The Poet Mike?
I do hope you all really hear.....

Copyright © Mike Liquori | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Shaila Touchton | Details

To My Beloved Son Oliver Emmanuel

You are a gift from God you truly are
A blessing with a miracle
A blessing sent from Heaven above
Who is so precious as an apple of my eye, 
You are my little baby boy who captured my heart
You fought all the battles 
When you were in NICU
And came home victoriously
I know that battle was hard and tough
But God was with in you, 
For the Impossible is now possible to you
Because you have his name

You are the gift of God’s love for me
I love you my Son so passionately
The Love I Felt when I brought you home from NICU
The happiness you brought in my life 
Words can hardly describe
You mean so much to me 

When you cry, I will hold you in my arms 
and comfort you! 
When you smile and laugh, 
I will smile and laugh with you
I will be with you 
Through life's sorrow and pain

Every day, every month, every year, 
I watch you grow by my side
And when you accomplish Godly standards in your life
I will be proud mother of you! 
God Give me patience, guidance, and wisdom
to direct my son in your path.

You are the image of your dad
So Wonderful and beyond compare
I know someday you would Grow up and be smart, 
And be a handsome man Godly, brave, tall and strong 
Standing right by your Dad’s side
The man of whom I am proud of! 
Always remember whatever you go through in life 
No matter what, I will always love you
The love I have for you is immeasurable
Always Remember My love for you will never fade


You bring me so much delight
You bring me tears of pride and joy
Your smile goes for miles which is inspiration to me
Warming my heart and soul
I love so much my Dear Son
I will protect you day and night in my arms from all harms
I will keep you safe within my sight
You are so special and you mean the world to me
Because you are my son and I am your mother
I have seen and being with you when you battled for life in NICU 
You have changed my life so much
You completed our family, you made us a whole.

Whether Good times and bad times
Up and downs in your life
Always remember God and be thankful
For you have the life of God
Always love God, because he will Never stop loving you 
He will never leave you nor let you down, 
He will never stop helping you nor giving up hope on you, 
In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your path
I pray that you continue to grow in the Lord
And be filled with more faith every day
And please Him in every way
By obeying and following his commandments and laws
Always put on the whole armor of God
That you may withstand every evil corrupted way
And be the man of God bringing glory to God and family.
Thank you God for blessing me with my little baby Boy!

Copyright © Shaila Touchton | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Kya Dreemurr | Details

Be Good My Child

Wandered from your  village, lost and alone
Over the years you were sick of your home
Looked for another chance somewhere below
Saw a small butterfly that you would follow

The hole was winding forever so
Not aware of the world lying below
Holding your heart, onto your hopes
Tumbling down the mountain slopes

Landed like a baby bird
Hopeless, desperate, alone, and hurt
My child found you, awestruck and afraid
While you cried, he sat and stayed

He took you with him, to our home
A humble place where we monsters roam
You didn't speak, shy when you came
I fed you well, I asked your name

You took great pleasure in playing with my horns
You would wake up and do it every morn
My furry ears would tickle your nose
And you pretended my tail was a fire hose

My son cared for you with all his heart
He hated when you two were apart
Humans gave you something, it was old
A heart locked carved from gold

You gave it to him at the waterfall
To him it was the most special thing of all
He hugged you tight, not letting go
It was a love only family would know

After all these years of love and play
You were sadly taken away
The reaper came, filled with greed
And you did follow his dark lead

Genocide is what you craved
A bloodstained path is what you paved
Murdering monsters just like me
And my precious son did  see

You are not like us any more
You became sick and rotten to your core
But I still loved you, how could I not?
You were my child, I haven't forgot

Then one day, a monster saw you
Decided to stop you through and through
His mighty horns were standing tall
His heart held no regrets at all

You dodged him, panting as you ran
But a child like you can't win against a monster man
He blasted and sliced and chopped and struck
All you needed was pure luck

And when your form was lying still
The monster got a sudden chill
Did he kill you? He wouldn't dare
He remembered when he found you there

Memories flashed through his mind
Of all of the good and horrible times
He held the locket out to you
Hoping that you'd start anew

You stood up in the empty space
He pulled you into a tight embrace
You hugged him back, he had high hope
But you grabbed your knife and issued the blow

You killed my son, I know that now
But I still love you somehow
You were my child, kind and bright
Until you went into the night

I kneel before you, on the ground
You killed me child, you stood and frowned
As I spoke to you in a voice so mild
All I said was, “Be good my child”

Based on Undertale



Copyright © Kya Dreemurr | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Star Light | Details

Blessing of Love--From Our Father's Son

Blessed Mother's Day
God Blessing came in many ways
I was Blessed
Giving Out of Love His Best

In the morning
My son.. went out of his way
made me breakfest in bed today
Which woke me up
With God's Loving cup

Then My one of my daughters and son in law
Came in the morning.. 
bring presents generously
Giving me.. A New Bible..
King James.. named.. Beautifully
Then presenting onto me
A brouch.. of a Red Red Rose

Then my my other daughter and son in law
With my granddaughter.. too 
Bringing treasures of Love
As my granddaughter say.. "I can't tell you"
Grandma.. tis a purple purse! Smile
but twas.. a bible cover "Purple with designs black velvet"
With an golden emblem.. across the front.. 
"Amazing Grace".. written in place
As my daughters state.. 
Momma we got you this
For it carrys your name
"Grace' and Your ever so Amazing"
Such Love filled the air..

All my children there.. ever so dear
Then we went to church.. 
Preacher and all spoke 
of proverbs 31 woman
Ever so beautifully
But tis.. I know tis not me..
But tis wonderful.. blessing many say so

Then afterwards..  
at my place.. my son in law
went out of his way..
Made food by hand.. 
he did this just for me
he cooked a big meal.. 
for all to eat
My daughter-his wife.. 
made sweeets
My other daughter and her husband came
brought a cake.. twas what my granddaughter made
Twas ever such Blessing of Love.. God made
To have all at the same time
Together under my roof
Praying.. giving Grace for all the Blessing that taken place
Eating a delicious meal twas cooked

As I memo.. twas just a few day ago
I prayed.. that someway
All my children would come in spend
Time with me.. all at once.. 
Even eat a meal together.. 
and as I seen--My Bible I been using
Always Reading.. ever so much
twas falling apart.. 
Even front cover fell off.. 
pages falling out just by the touch
I memo saying.. within as praying 
that same night unto my lord
I would love to have a new bible.. 
one even beholding new cover..
But I sure didn't expect.. to receive it
But as I memo.. and see...
God Always Provided everything
I prayed and asked for 
He gave me the best
Mother day's Blessings
With His Love so grand
My Blessed Children 
God brought All together again 
along with More Blessings.. 
came without end

Come to Jesus
Fellowship with our Lord
For Blessing shall come 
To You forever more

Thank you.. Jesus for everything
For Your Love.. You bring
On This Blessed day.. and many to come
Blessing of Love-From Our Father's son

Copyright © Star Light | Year Posted 2011

Long poem by Eric Nolan | Details

Patriotism

Have you ever thought about the Death of Christ?
Why did they crucify him?
If you read the story then you know
But what I ask is why didn't God stop them?
It's natural to protect our own
How could he let him be sacrificed?
For the good of all man I've been told
God sacrificed his only son for us
But what does he ask in return? What does he want?
Are we supposed to try and emulate him?
I wish to know
I don't understand his decision
To not help his only son, I couldn't do that
But I do know that is why we are not gods
Do people who give their lives for others emulate God?
When a solider dies for our country is he dying for us?
Or freedom? or both?
Are the parents godlike in their sacrifice of their children?
Like Christ when he sacrificed his only son
Or is it more than that?
Is patriotism just a mindset to get people to fight?
When one country is mad at another
It's the leaders who argue not the countries
Why can't the leaders fight and leave us alone?
Do leaders send their own children to fight and die?
Why should I send my children to fight and die for you?
Are you a God? Do you have my interests at heart? Or yours?
You say it is in the name of freedom, but whose freedom?
We have never been free
You send me to fight, kill, and die
And yet you say I am free, free to do what?
Free to murder those you want dead?
Free to send my children to their death for you?
Who are you again? Are you a God?
I fight for God not you
My children are not targets or murderers
And now you demand my children to be your shield
Who are you again? Never mind
I know who you are it's very plain to see
You are not a god you are a coward
You are evil and you are trying to destroy us
You are lying to all of us just as you always have
You speak of freedom
As you try to blind us with patriotism
And silence us with duty and honor, Meaningless!
From one who knows nothing of their meaning
I wonder what God would say to you
Knowing who and what you are
Would he forgive you?
Would he understand your deception? Would he?
I could not forgive you, this is why I am not a god
I can't forgive, I am vengeful, I would punish you
Without mercy
For allowing this deception of youth to continue
Maybe you believe your right but I can't believe that
You know what your doing is wrong yet you continue
One day you will pay, as we all will 
We are all guilty to some degree
But most of all we are guilty of sacrificing our children to you 
Who are you again? never mind
I just remembered, your the devil




Copyright © Eric Nolan | Year Posted 2009

Long poem by Matthew Wetter | Details

Thank God for the Day

Thank God for the Day

The sun rises
On the plains filled with gold
As the moon sets beyond
The Mountains young and old
The cowboy makes his coffee
And sets himself to pray
Thank God for the sun rising today.

CHORUS
Thank God for the Wolf’s cry
And the thundering Buffalo
Thank God for the springs and
The fresh water that flows.
Thank God for the sunshine
And thank God for the rain
And thank God for the sun rising again.

A century passes, his
Great grandson’s grandson
Is rising with the dawn and
There’s so much to be done
There’s bills yet to pay and
The baby to be changed.
Thank God for the sun rising today.

Thank God for the baby’s cry
And the innocent way they glow
Thank God for the thunderstorms
That help us all to grow
Thank God for the sunshine
And thank God for the rain
And thank God for the sun rising again.

He puts on his boots and slacks
Gets ready to go
Takes his kids to school, there’s
So much they will know
He rides with the mustangs
In his pinto of old
Thank God for a life growing old.

Thank God for tears to cry
And showing which way to go
Thank God for the hurricanes
That help us love to know
Thank God for the sunshine
And thank God for the rain
And thank God for the sun rising today.

There’s no more cattle to drive at work
He’s pushing paper all day
Everyone’s in a rush here, it just
Seems to be their way.
There’s no end in sight until
On his way home he goes
Thank God for safely getting us home.

And thank God for my children
That give meaning to life
Thank God for the working day
That love makes it alright.
Thank God for the sunshine
And thank God for the rain
And thank God for the sun setting today.

His older boy’s had a rough day too
A game of catch they play
With the toss of the ball 
The cowboy’s here to stay.
Troubles are forgotten, 
As new mem’ries are made
Thank God that the cowboy rides again.

As he lays his boys to sleep
With kisses born of love,
He thanks God for his blessings
His blessing from above
Life’s not what he asked for
Not bad, but it’s tough
Thank God for a house filled with love.

Thank God for the Wolf’s cry
And the thundering Buffalo
Thank God for the springs and
The fresh water that flows.
Thank God for the sunshine
And thank God for the rain 
And thank God for the moon rising again.

And thank God that the sun will rise again. 

© Matthew Wetter, July 5, 2015

Copyright © Matthew Wetter | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Details

The Best Days of My Life

The Best Days of My Life: The Family Day!


Just like a person can have more than one “Best Friends” in a lifetime, 
One can also have more than one “Best Day of Their Life”.
I have had several “Best Days” in my life, but a few really do stand out.
One of my best days was when my first daughter was born…and healthy.
From that day forward, I have loved and enjoyed her; she blesses my life.
Another best day in my life was the birth of my second healthy daughter.
From that day forward, I have enjoyed, loved, and learned from her.
She blesses my life.  She and my first daughter love and help others, too.  
We played, learned, laughed, loved, and enjoyed many best days together.
Then, my next best day arrived; it was the birth of my youngest child…a boy.
From that day forward, I have loved and enjoyed him; he blesses my life.
While my children were growing up: we loved, they danced…we camped.
Together we learned about God by studying His teachings and attending church.
Together we learned kindness by visiting the elderly, blind, sick, and disabled. 
Together we learned helpfulness by taking time to help strangers in need.
We, with friends, helped keep our neighborhood clean, picking up park litter.
We sang nature’s symphonies…bathed in streams, washed hair in waterfalls.
Talents were developed and we watched one another’s performances. 
Educations were earned and we praised one another’s accomplishments.
Families and careers were begun and my life continues to be blessed.
I have had many best days in my life with my children.  And we have loved.
Everyday with my children, even struggles, were “Best Days of My Life”.
Now, they are grown, but we stay in touch, we love, we enjoy…and
There are grandchildren.  So there will still be many “Best Days in My Life”.
And even though my children no longer live at home, I have been blessed.
I have one more of the already many “Best Days” to share.  A late in life…
Best day is the meeting of and the marriage to my spiritual companion.
Our soul(s) having been completed was the most recent “Best Day of My Life”. 
Together, we still live, seeking God’s word and living life caring and loving.
All…together— These blessings that I have shared are the best life can offer.
And these "Best Days" are the days I will remember for the rest of my life.
And beyond—  The family day!

© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
March 22, 2010
Poetic form: Narrative

Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Year Posted 2010

Long poem by Shanity Rain | Details

My Dad

My Dad was Chicagoan.
He would light up a room just like my Mom. 
He loved to fish ! He loved his beer .
He also designed a Octagon home in the 70's 
Built custom by hand . I was very proud of Dad .

Alcohol hit our Family , a curse .
He left my Mom when I was 14 in Illinois.
To renew in California , leaving a trail of tears .
Meeting my step mom , my sisters age .
My 2 sisters they were accepted in her world . 

Not I , I looked too much Like Mom . Told this all my Life . 
She a petite Beauty , RN , real estate Broker .
I did not see why it was wrong to be like mom ?

I moved in with Dad, His new Wife , and 2 sisters 
eventually . All three women were competing for my Father .
I was kicked out at 16 yrs.

Years do pass , you try and accept people places and things .
At the end of Dads life , he was calling me once a week .
I ordered a Engraved Clock for the Fathers day coming.
This was a issue for the Wife and sisters , never invited to his new home , 2 Decades ~My little Brother & I , never wanted .

Dad passed suddenly one sad Spring Day . Not one word from his wife , all 3rd party,  how and when,  Dad Died . being denied the right to his address , even to say goodbye .
Not being able to send my engraved clock . 

 "Dad Passed " received call  from sister whom just stayed a week with me ,  I took her all around the sites here . "1st day I get call , you should come , 2nd Day after , Dad's been cremated already . " It was a lie.

I went anyway , finding the funeral home, the Funeral Director was appalled at the denial displayed.

He insisted I was given 10 minutes alone with Dad , my Birthright to say Goodbye , he was in dismay over the Hostility towards a daughter ~

I get to this room of mean relative's. His sisters , Mine, angry looks , hearing from a Aunt "What is she doing Here ! " I can't give nor reason or rhyme. 

 Shame to you and all that participated that wicked day.
 Are you Glorified with Power?  Denied the right to grieve , 

 Left with no sane answers to give in hatred received by Blood . Some , just Spouses , telling me I had no right to Say Goodbye to my own Father , My DAD .

My Dad wanted me there , I know he did . I love Him and will never forget , his youngest girl whom looked like Mom . I know in my heart and dreams he speaks. 
 We all see when we leave . May God not allow any Son or Daughter to go through such Evil.

Thank-you Poetry Soup for returning my voice .

Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

Long Poems