Long Ness Poems
Long Ness Poems. Below are the most popular long Ness by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ness poems by poem length and keyword.
Poet: Ken Jordan
Poem: Goree Island
Edited by: Sparkle Jordan
written: February/2014
I see the blood
of my ancestors
that swell
in the Atlantic ocean
on
Goree Island -
The unmerciful ill winds
that fell
over my people,
in Senegal,
on that
horrific night,
brought the European's,
across the Atlantic,
to our Village -
Everything
in the world
changed forever,
and
will never be forgotten,
when the "unthinkable"
cruel acts
of slavery,
cloaked my people
like
darkness in the night -
White men
dressed in British
formal attire,
brought with them,
bullwhip's, chains, machetes,
and rifles,
to capture us.....
to ENSLAVE us!
We were brutally beaten,
and
taken to
the House of Slaves,
on Goree Island -
The malice intent
of
the British,
intensified our
suffering
at the slave house,
as they
cuffed us to
the walls,
in neck, waist,
and
ankle chains -
Days would pass,
some of us died
from
diseases,
and
starvation,
while waiting
for
the slave ship
to come
from the Americas -
The hideous inhumane
acts
by the British,
sold us
as property,
as we were
auctioned off as
commodity,
to the Americas,
during
the Atlantic Slave Trade
The mournful ness
in our helpless eyes,
spoke of horrendous fear,
as a feeling of distraught,
distress,
and despair,
clothed us
like
death -
We are innocent people
that will never
see our families again
Our homeland again -
It's unfathomable,
to see black souls in chains,
taking those final usurious
steps towards the "Door Of No
Return,"
in the House Of Slaves,
which left its ugly mark,
on the whole global earth -
Once through
the Door Of No Return,
we were sold to the Americas,
and
faced a future of
severe beatings, burnings,
hangings, lynchings,
and
rape -
To this day,
ancient spirits
of
black people,
still scream in rage
on
Goree Island,
where an untold number
of us were
slaughtered,
and
branded
before walking
through the slave door,
of
an uncertain future -
The ominous clouds
of slavery,
will
forever cast
a dark shadow,
over the
House Of Slaves,
the Door Of No Return,
and the world -
Goree Island,
in the Atlantic Ocean,
will forever
cry tears of blood,
from the souls of
black people -
please lemme know and honestly profess
if profusion of words create a lingual Loch Ness
(when hens canst come home to roost
especially, encountering
the following conglomeration
in matthew scott harris patois).
He readily admits writing inventive
attempts usually ten tubby a literary mess,
thus finding innocent cyber cruisers
Angle fishing for Saxony fundamental fluidity
courtesy of Freudian stream of consciousness,
gabbling gibberish, muck not done on purpose
and certainly less
to impress.
Gnome hatter intent toward
cogency, fancy ingenuity,
levity, the inevitable
resultant wrought gobbledygook
fascination for Lingua Franca
feeble endeavor splutters, splinters,
and splatters Asia Yukon guess.
Paramour status analogous with twenty six letters,
sans En gull Lush Mother tongue confluence
finds me submerged (as an Arctic Monkey)
swimmingly enervated
via erotic laced sentiments
perhaps finds bravely daring soul madly
hollering, gesticulating floundering,
(in close proximity to Davey Jones's locker)
to avoid drowning at sea
perchance comprehending passionate influence.
Upon espying a signature poem of mine
forces one pre ponder ring lurking predilection
tib hush anonymous re:
dears (dares) adventuresome mettle
taking him/her to the brainy
(briny) deep brink
Icon fess
this (NON FAKE) pretense, why
aye metaphorically express
(via medium of ordinary Anglophile
alphabetic wanton soup,
or figurative egg drop bub
bling broth (el) doth brew)
pronouns Sibyl affectation
affliction sans plethora,
where each ladle full adrip with
richly flavor Verdana Font lee
and sincerely textured vocabulary.
Pluperfect mortals beings undoubtedly feel
(blindsided, how this hunger stricken author
suffers said sesquipedalian syndrome
particularly expectorating flashy
hoping tum bark on successful literary quest)
hyper aware aspiring paperback writers wannabe
might stoop to conquer, cheat, cadge
vis a vis plagiarize plethora
amidst storied plentiful English droppings.
Rather than succumb pretense feigning paucity
temptation to bask exultantly,
professed glorious unrequited love
announcing required sworn vow,
(el lye ding) avowed consonant covenant.
Form:
The darkened sky had hid the sun,
I bravely fought the storm to come.
Its voracious voice roared
'Til reached its peak.
The time had come for me to seek,
The chilling call I'd heard all week.
From the deepest place that lay within
The old orchard wood.
When the stillness stood,
I took a chance, then firmly
Stepped off the porch,
To see what would become,
During my walk through
The old familiar wood.
To learn of things I'd yet to know.
Starting out it was slow.
I noticed first the new, green grass.
Filling in, standing firm, straight and strong,
Each tiny blade found its spot, still becoming.
One was small but adding up, all became an
Armor, an umbrella.
Where stood weaker things til ready
To learn of things too young to know.
A sudden gust of wind, blew across my face.
Taking me back in time.
A memory flashed across my mind, when I was small
I yearned to grow to learn those things too young to know.
An unyielding foe of future days,
When good was in, love was plenty, yet
Needed still my own umbrella.
Protecting me against the ills and woes of things
I had yet to know. My heart beat harder the deeper
I went into the old orchard wood, then,
Attentive in my listening,
Til in the middle of the wood,
I found myself
Where it was full of busy-ness,
Fallen leaves and such,
The colors richly touched with hues of light among the tones
Of silver stones in babbling brook, here lay the heaviness.
Of daily deeds which lay the seeds that would become tomorrow.
Where joy is sprinkled in amid our sorrow.
The day had come to learn of things I had yet to know.
I knew my learning had just begun.
The biggest fight, the one within ourselves.
We grow our armor by choosing hues of light against the dark
Of tones we speak or build to keep
Out the darkest hues that hurt.
Choosing carefully our fate by keeping kindness daily in,
While sweeping hate away and out.
Then under our umbrella keeping safe those smaller ones
Who are too young to learn of things they cannot comprehend.
The past is done and those I loved are lying still and sweet.
While I am here alone.
To fight and figure out
Those things I need to know.
Before it's late, my sun will be down, when
I can no longer walk and learn those things that have yet to come.
That are upon the path, which lays
Deep within the old familiar wood.
though avast percentage
of Stone Temple Pilots, she push peep pulls
viz vernacular speaking population
to most pious take as gospel
every word in religious tomes
their collective soul asylum polestar,
and doth decree important doctrines
with especial accord
equal insignificance applied toward
Judeo-Christian holidays across the board
thus easter tis no exception to the golden rule,
where santa claus reached an a chord
follow auspicious signs alit in the night sky
shaped like a drinking gourd
perhaps amassing plentiful harvests
upon hamlets strewn
across scantily populated Earth
asper cornucopia exhibited secret hoard
sharing plentiful Horn
(and Hard art learned lesson)
to stave off barren ness, ignored
going forward seeding nascent
March Madness with help from Lord
and Tailor as midwife hoot
tended Ville Nova moored
by Wildcat fanatics, who unbelievably
espied heavens cleft asunder
and golden rays poured
while collective spectators loudly screamed
akin to the soundgarden
of ferocious cats roared
witnessed history scored
earning players knighted
with Excalibur sword
thence entire team handed
Taj Mahal shaped award
which aforementioned ass hide lacks, cuz zit
happens tubby April Fool's joke
thus above iterated verses somehow
needs just a little bit of relevance to yoke
thine admitted ambivalent reaction to sports,
yea aye pay figurative toke
hen to Rabbinic, generic fanatic primal
tribal village people clan destine woke
and swinging focus of this poem
back toward Religious perp ported berth
when (sans antiquity) trumpet signaled
thus, any superstitions blew away dearth
when distant shofar heard
in every home and hearth
anticipating arrival of the Easter Bunny,
who brings mirth
and hop poly distributes sweet treats,
which children as grown adults,
no matter necessity for teeth to be removed
the sugary over indulgence wool worth
today thee American Dental Association chastises candy
manufacturers bandying more weight
gaining deadly, debauched, and decadent, trait
then adultery verboten fruit to sate
hash-tagged reprobate.
Dragon sat in the bushes all night long, for he wanted to catch himself a Leprechaun.
See Leprechauns have gold by the buckets full, and Dragon wanted himself… some.
So our sly little Dragon had put a lit up rainbow, on our garage door, to be cast on…
St. Patrick’s Day was in the morning, and he wanted some of those golden charms.
He’d read: You gotta get up, so very early, to be able, to even a little, trick those guys.
For those wily Leprechauns are the cleverest critters, which were ever seen… to arise.
So Dragon had dressed up in the Irish green, topped with a cute little Leprechaun hat.
You see, Dragon believed he was, the slyest thing, put on this earth, here… ever… yet.
Sure enough, at the break of dawn… a Leprechaun came snooping, stealthily around.
Strangely, he looked about 3 years old, the same age of our Dragon, or there, around.
They hit it off immediately, with so much in common, at that tender age and time.
Finally together, they dug up the pot of gold, which the Leprechaun’s magic did rise.
They had decided to share the wealth, of any gold, they did hope to some how find
But darn, the Leprechaun was unhappy, at the small amount of gold before his eyes.
He swore our Dragon had dug it up early, and already taken his own share… after all…
Dragons were known to be the greediest things ever put on this earth, he did recall.
Yes, he’d seen thru Dragons disguise, and had seen the wily-ness of it all… so true…
So the Leprechaun threw a crying hissy fit, the likes of which Dragon had never knew.
He raged on and on, how his new best friend could ever think to cheat him, Boo Hoo!
Now, Dragon began to feel very guilty for what he had originally, truly, wanted to do.
So in the end he gave it all away, to his newest best friend, who left without an adieu.
At that our dear little Dragon, felt proud for what he had finally achieved and done.
That is until he looked at his own little bitty horde of gold… that was suddenly gone!
Yep the little Leprechaun, had stolen it fast away! With his magic he had transferred…
Dragons gold to the Leprechauns beloved pot! Now Dragon became enflamed at it all!
At what the Leprechaun had done… Until Grandpa Troll reminded him with the moral:
Don’t be surprised… if you get burned… when you play with fire, my little friend!
The End!
Written 3-17-2017
Realize (What You Need)
I remember when we first met; I saw a pretty face
But what I need in my life is someone real
In my experience (and that’s not much), but vanity, seemed just for touch
What I need is someone who can feel
What I need is someone who can feel
Why is it that the one we want; seems far away or so out of touch
Why is it that the one I want; is not the one I need
She’s not; she’s not the one for me
The time has past and I’ve arrived; at the same confusion in her eyes
But I know what she wants and it’s not me
She’s so much more than what I thought; she’s not just a pretty face
But I know what she wants and it’s not me
Desire clouds our minds to what we need
Why is it that the one we want; seems far away or so out of touch
Why is it that the one she wants; is not the one she needs
Why cant; why can’t she see me
I came to realize that I was blind; and all I want I would never find
As long as I kept following desire
Bur now when we talk I can feel my smile; and all my days now seem worth while
Suddenly, my cold life has a fire
Finally, my cold life has a fire
Why is it that the one we want; seems far away or so out of touch
Why is it that the one I want; does NOT (feel the same for me)
~~~~~~~~
Forget about what you think you want, and focus on what you need
Forget about all you fear inside, have faith in what you believe
You gotta be strong; you gotta be proud
You gotta stand up; you gotta be loud
You’ll find everything that you want, when you realize what you need
You’ll find everything that you want, when you realize what you need
Cause I found everything that I want
When I realized; what, I need
And now my needs are clear to me; I talk to you all the time
Your blind…. ness is what keeps us apart
If only you would open up; and see me for who I am
I think that you would see me with your heart
Oh, close your eyes and open up your heart
Why is it that the one we want; seems far away or so out of touch
Why is it that the one you want; is NOT the one you need
Why can’t; why can’t you see me
I remember when we first met; cause I saw your pretty face
But I, fell in love with you, because you’re…. reeeeal!
© 2013 Jeffrey Spencer
I remember the time when I first took a good look in you eyes, you were handing me a
bouquet of flowers from work
The first time I held you in my arms the friendly hug right after, I get this girly smirk
I remember the feeling I had when we got home that night
I can't feel what I feel cause he's interested in the other kine
I remember the first time we held each other tight, the first boy in my bed
Remembering that tequila night and how we chose each other instead
I remembered that night you felt so close to my heart, how the butterflies were crazy
The touch of your gentle lips on mine (sigh) oh baby
I remember our cute little texts every morning we'd think of each other
How our smiles would open widely complementing one another
I remember when you'd always come over after you did your chores
How we'd just go straight for the bed and take naps with the open door
I remember how we'd always run away from the crowd so we'd finally be alone
Mary would always trip out like we'd do something wrong
I remember the night you stood up and took me to Foodland cause I wanted Strawberry
pancakes
How afterwards I felt bad cause you passed out and had work the next day
I remembered the night before it was just me and you in the house
When I turned and faced you we both spooned each other on the couch
Then we both sighed cause we told each other it was a perfect fit
Our bodies locked so closely together we closed our eyes and that was it
I remember you always being a romantic with all the flowers you gave
My room bloomed of beauty ness and the smell was insane
I remember our first make out session my lips felt glued to yours
How I could go on forever because of how passionate you are
I remember my very first time and how happy I was to give it to someone I have strong
feelings for
A man who felt the same was as I, the passion, the love, the music for sure
I remember the time when you let me put mascara on your precious moment eyes
We went out to the Pali Lookout and of course the rain stopped by
I remember how much I thanked God for bringing you into my life
Praying that htis river everlastingly flows with you by my side
I remember constantly thinking if our souls were together in the past life
The depth of my feelings, you've captured my heart, you are the love of my life.
This is where my grief met Jeremiah's lamentations
OUR FATHER
As far as the east is from the west, that’s how far the Lord has removed our transgressions from us?
Why do I feel not far removed from my sins or the sins of others?
Suffocated by faults and indiscretions of human-ness that lacks discretion
Of fearlessness; the lack of intuition
Of childishness but a child born in the wrong time?
But God’s timing is always right?
Can you see this Lord?
Is heaven mastering this disaster only for our inferior minds to finally resurrect from the shambles?
And realise that You have been building us a new city all along.
I believe in the Author of fate so maybe that is where my hope springs from
Or from the crippling fear of the effects of reality
Disappointment
Shock
Is this how feeble we are as humans?
How our chromosomes, blood cells, alleles all created from dust can just wither away when one gust of wind comes before we can find shelter
How our intangible thoughts are invisible holograms that effect nothing
Our father who art in heaven should we lose faith while we are on earth because there is plenty in heaven?
Will we make it the pearly gates with our infirm humanly wrongs and all the cavities punctured in our teeth
And speak to the guardians in low tones of how we praised the Creator on earth forgetting to mention how our own faults in the sweetened land He placed us in; have led us to corroded incisors
We consume more sweetened sin than soured heaven.
I cannot stare at my reflection in the mirror because I feel like a ghost
And legend has it that once the undead return they leave no shadow
They simply exist among other human humans
Who put status updates on their whatsapps saying ‘be still and know that I am God?’
It is easy to be transfixed in the same position when the walls around you are not caving in
I feel I have been saying much without saying anything,
Because maybe this conversation should just be between me and Him
But I do not know what to say to Him
My human human-ness has failed me once again
So maybe He could just look into my laden heart, desperate thoughts and fearful mind
And decide where I can go from here
Where they can go from here
Where we can go from here...
For Thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory forever and ever
Amen.
Yesterday Deborah and I joined a large diverse group of people in Asheville, North Carolina
(the line of people stretched as far as we could see)
In a peaceful protest of our president, our government and what we see as their abuses and cruelty.
We raised our voices in unison against the injustices we see…
our goal: to build a better world…one filled with peace and love and harmony.
There were a wide variety of protest signs…
(the entire scene was captured by drones hovering above)
and though I was also there to protest…my banner read ‘Choose Love’.
Because of all the things we have to protest…so many on which to concentrate
for me it all comes down to one…I was there to protest hate..
Protesting those who hate the things they do not and are unwilling to understand.
Protesting what that hate has done…to our people, our government…our land.
But there’s another reason I was standing there…protesting in my own way…
because I knew when I awoke this morning…the sun would rise on Father’s Day.
And as a father I want my children and grandchildren and great grandchildren to know
in the midst of this government’s tyranny and mayhem..
that not only was I there for me…I was protesting there for them.
I want them to know I’m willing to speak out for what I believe in…
against the hate that has permeated this land…
that in order for them to live in a better world…I’m willing to make a stand.
I want them to know as long as there is discrimination, inequality
abuse and oppression…taking away a woman’s choice…
I will stand on a street corner to protest…I will be there to raise my voice..
I want them to know I believe in justice, diversity, equality, inclusion and woke-ness
and I will do whatever it takes to see this vision through….
I want them to know that ‘Choose Love’ is not just a banner I hold up in protest
It’s something that I do.
I may not succeed in my life time…to change people’s feeling and perceptions
to make those who hate finally understand…
but if the next generation of my family takes up the banner…’Choose Love’
I know I’ll be leaving it in good hands.
So future father’s on Father’s day….will be able sit back and smile…because
‘Choose Love’ will no longer be a banner to be held up in protest
it will be something everybody does
There has always been an inter-outer over-under tender balance of loveless socio-equations as they super fit the psychosocial sexe-endices in this modern garner of pluses/minuses/bytes and scribbles mostly incommunicado inexperience and parental impreciseness as to, "anything planned", which in tomb leaves us doth a deranged desperate captive of that all inbibed prisoner **** of nun conformist adventurerers and that really, that there are just too many organic integers making for really bad math.intuitations/attributes and all of the familio do's and don'ts that creep bastardy across the years to inculcate, interfere, incase all of the hoped, promised integrity of just 2 people in love? with all that makes it their potential, not all of the hopeless, ne'r do wells, dead driven dud marriages that hoped to promulgate their failures onto the newbies totally unprepared, but willfully negative implicit on that new, and should be uninterrupted, all naked, seeing alter intense emoexplosive journeys to that wait waits, some supposes, everybody entices, everyone enthralls, quired questions, problem perplexes, initiates initiated, complexes complete, duty deforms, eerily exacts a viscous value, on properties promised a forever coexistance, but not at the expense of selfish selfness; can it be to an us award of a faceoff fervent fever, that WE, can coincide an opposite internal presence that allows us to be a universal component undeluded, underived, unpolluted by the natural wonders that are our genetic cohesions, so they can further their total promise to lead a connected life of copious love, desire and plentitudes of us-ness, disavowing all else in a socioinvasive parental wake of them vs us in all things blood/emo crass cursive? Leave them, the future lovers of us alone, let it flow and keep your, non orgasmic, loveless failures to yourself, old/tainted people of relations, lovers of social inhibitions it plays to an ill-at-ease, stubborn Igor-ignocompliance. Yes, we had Summer Love/Woodstock, but then we grew to be livestock, waiting for the senior-socioseniorslaughter pill mill. You must have some small, tinder, macromolecule of what it was to be standing in the bliss of universal underware; a long time ago in a universe far, far, away. Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! the neighbors.