Long Ohio Poems
Long Ohio Poems. Below are the most popular long Ohio by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ohio poems by poem length and keyword.
Mariah needed to get to the Hollywood Hills
She recognized this mission was her destiny
Tell everyone her mother encouraged her
It was 1974, when rides were free
She hitchhiked from Ohio to California
Singing folk songs with strangers
In VW buses, muddy farm pickups,
She spent fifty-six minutes in a limousine.
The weather became warmer, almost balmy.
Sorry about the Santa Ana winds the natives apologized.
Mariah stood on her tippy toes, letting the winds blow her shirt.
She had never been this excited in her life.
This was a magical place, a haven away from ice and snow.
She could sleep on the street, there was no wind chill of sixteen below.
Do you want to just stay here by yourself? Her last ride asked her.
He was an older man, in designer clothes.
Why not? She said. I am in heaven here, Nirvana.
He offered her twenty dollars, but she said the ride was enough.
She was living her dream, riding the wave of enthusiasm.
So happy, she knew she could fly!
My arrival beat the sunrise;
it was still dark at the small jetty.
I dried the wet skiff, mind alert
to the soon to be lifting light.
Nearby,
an unseen water bird
clattered into the darkness.
Startled, I looked up,
there above me
a hole in that lightless sky
a circle of glowing orange
surrounded by the dim dawn.
‘I am blessed’ I thought.
As I gazed, the heavens opened,
a deluge of blacked-out rain smashed down
upon the sleeping land.
I got under the down-turned boat
and lay down
as the Ohio river faded away
replaced by a raging waterfall,
one that obliterated
that same sunrise
that had yet to show up -
until at last
that early bird I had heard
flew back to my ears and minds-eye.
Emerging from my makeshift shelter
I watched a rare black swan
settle and preen, drying its feathers,
as if it was perfectly natural
for a river to drown itself
under a small, up-side-down skiff.
Roast beef on Rye. Pastrami on toast, a Rubin -
I only have thinly sliced bologna. Not hungry anyway.
Beyond a window, a dog is on my lawn, my mind shouts,
surprisingly the dog seems to hear me.
I have powers.
A record player drops into my mind
the vinyl is spinning, the needle is tracing,
silence roars on. I sing along.
I find an old British sixpenny-bit in Ohio
amazing how we all take teleportation for granted now.
A door knob rattles,
my ears get hairy,
am I being paranoid or is this nervous state
the result of living alone in my head for too long?
This afternoon I will still be here
watching my show.
You star you. I always did like your eyes
they shine like flying saucers.
Note. Make the bed before I sleep
I wrecked it last night.
If I remember, I will consider forgetting all of this.
Herons fragment the mist,
appear and disappear while remaining motionless.
The skiff rocks as a coal barge trundles past.
A dewy sky shivers.
Nowadays he just sits in a boat looking at Ohio.
This morning the sun reached the top of a willow
and got stuck.
He rowed toward the bank thinking to get under the tree,
filled an imaginary pipe full of tangy river smoke,
sucked on the wet air
as he watched the tree struggling with the sun.
For a while it was a tussle, then the willow shook itself
and the sun slipped away like an unmoored ketch.
At first, the sun just hovered like a blanched balloon
then it found a window above the mounded smother
and it rose up like a Choctaw bass
about to mouth a trill of small fry.
He was near to the shore now,
Ohio slanted down to meet him
cattails and reeds scratching the aluminum hull.
A couple of mallards jumped out of nowhere
and flew over his eyes. The clatter of wings
ruffled the chill bank where a dank light had sunk.
His mind followed them for some time
until they settled deep down
amid a wraith-wrapped Kentucky.
A heron slowly rowed the wind
stirring up the vaporous air, Patches of clarity
drifted across sky-high filtering puddles.
Ohio becomes a river town, the huddled houses
have scuttled their roofs upon soggy pathways.
The mossy hulks of an abandoned industry
wallow in a foggy backwash.
Castaway wharfs drip a spatter and smear,
a hand me down script of a yesteryear.
A small blue-collar marina,
beer cans roll on swaying pontoons,
a couple of dry docked rowboats
and canoes.
Truck tires thump harbor chains.
Someone is up early, someone else watches him
gut and clean a large flathead.
On the damp dock cats circle the bones and scales
creep through the miasma
their fur wet and glistening eyes flashing a liquid silver.
The catfish is naked and shorn of the river
a thing to be watched least it return to life
as something beyond the ken of cats and fishermen.
On the ramp he hitches up his straggling life
and drives away from a berth awash
with the haunted cries of Loons and Redtail’s.
Soon he will be back in the patched-up pockets of Ohio
where corn husks snag hoarfrost and rattle
in a fresh rinsing breeze.
At uncertain times black ice sheers the wind,
The nights snorts a frigid fog
into the fumes of idling cars.
Ohio, once was a light in a hissing bowl.
Land was laid out like a plain bible,
it offered salted potatoes
to the frozen and freezing,
it played a wheezy bellows into rural glimmers.
This night knows how to fang a wrist.
Grit nips our tender tongues.
The lights of bistros cannot withstand
their desolate backyards.
A scree of black curb
can be crossed, but not by the lightly shod.
At such times, Autumn lends
a shivering hand at its own burial.
After the sermon, small ice sculptures
of raw priests, congeal into humps and heaps.
A sweeping wind pushes rotting leaves
into vacant lots.
Inspired by the many true crime documentaries I have watched
and in memory of Judy Malinowski, whose death set in motion
a law in Ohio called Judy’s Law, to increase punishment to those
who use accelerants leading to disfigurement in felonies.
He started out gas-lighting her -
the wicked man who loved no one
except himself. He thought he was
number one– that narcissistic sun.
He also isolated her.
To no one could she ever run
except to him – that self-important
filthy scum – a narcissistic sun.
Her sister said, “No more. No more”
and helped her see that she
was not to blame for anything.
From that brute she had to flee.
It wasn’t easy. There were kids,
but when he blackened both her eyes
and bloodied her, she knew at last
she had to cut with him all ties.
She got an order of protection,
yet she lived in constant fear.
He stalked her, and she couldn’t even
know whenever he was near.
She was his prey, his possession.
To see his ex-wife having fun
he could not tolerate because
he was a tyrant narcissistic sun.
One day he followed her to work.
She did not have a clue
when she stopped to fill her gas tank
of what he had planned to do.
Gasoline he doused her with.
What pain and terror she was forced to feel!
That narcissistic sun, so hot with rage,
ended up gas-lighting her for real.
The serious Train De-railment in Ohio has led to toxic Phosgene and other toxins to be burned into the air. Phosgene known for use in World War 1 and killed at least 100,000. Now, wildlife, household pets, chicken, cattle and many fish are dying. Toxins are in the Ohio River that supplies drinking water to millions. This very serious situation is not getting the proper attention of the government or the main stream media
Update: Fema has said they will not help Ohio because houses were not destroyed!! Now, a man took a stick and stirred the stream water and every color imaginable surfaced from the toxins. On video. A parking lot of dead birds was found 350 miles away in Lexington KY. On video. The governor claims the DOD advised the burn of toxins from the train cars. Large plume still moving at 1mph toward West VA. I may need to write a blog about this. Very serious.
Update 2/19/23. A resident from the area reported seeing no wildlife at all. Another person reported from outside the area, seeing toxic rain on the windshield. Just like I thought. The large toxic plume is traveling slowly 1 mph. It is reported to be heading Northeast. Please check your streams and stir water to see if colored toxins surface. Also, please look at wildlife. Both these things will indicate toxins in the area.
Update: 7/2/24: Since this poem, toxins reached my yard ...with the snow over 500 miles from where they deliberately burned the chemicals. It sickened my dog and I, completely changing my life. The soil at my home was tested and proven to have the toxins from the train derailment. Also , orange slime landed on my tree in the rain and tested positive for Benzene. I documented everything. I wrote many poems and blog posts too. My dog died just recently after suffering and fighting to live. I have now lost my home too. The Govt did a huge cover up after they had approved the burn of the chemical filled train cars. But recently Wisconsin researchers including weather experts came out with evidence the toxins reached 16 US states in the rain and snow. This has been the biggest chemical disaster in US history. A travesty for many.
acid rain will fall
toxic chemicals in air
silence now deadly
Heidi Sands
2/14/23
On my walk this morning…I noticed the child I used to be
who, it seems, has been sleeping all these years…decided to take a walk with me.
I said, “Hello!” to my young self…from a time when I was smaller…
He looked me up and down then said, “I thought you would be taller.”
Then he started asking questions…as a child his aged does…
“Was chocolate ice cream still my favorite?”…”Yes”, I said, “it was.”
Questions came out rapid fire…of things I’ve long forgot…
Sometimes he waited for me to answer…often he did not.
What was I doing in Florida? How did I get here from Ohio?
Do I ever miss the change of seasons or playing in the snow?
Did I become a football star? Do I still love climbing trees?
How are my brothers doing? Do I still eat pizza with lots of cheese?
Do I still like skipping stones on lakes and rivers and streams?
Am I still scared of the dark? Do I still know how to dream?
Do I live in a big house? Does it have a pool? Do I drive a fancy car?
Do I have friends…a family. Do I still makes wishes on the stars?
Why are there so many wrinkles on my face? Why is my beard so grey?
Even though I’m older now…do I still find time to play?
On and on his questions came…and as quickly as they flew past…
I did my best to answer them as fast as they were asked.
I can’t remember all he asked…so many question in one walk he crammed….
But his final question was, “Are you happy?”…to which I smiled and said…”I am”.
“Then I am happy for you.” He said before he jumped back into my dream….
“And I’m really glad to know…you still love your pizza and ice cream.”
COWARDS, NOT HEROESv
Cowards, not heroes, Call them what they are
Not Martyrs, killers of babies, children, people both near and far
Cowards not heroes, not terrorists, Call them what they are
How much courage does it take to mow down children and people in trucks
How much courage does it take to be armed with all kinds of ammunition
like a sniper and shoot down cops like sitting ducks
How much courage does it take to shoot unsuspecting people in a store, a show a school
To kill and brutalize black, brown, white folks going about their day
To fly into buildings, blow up people having fun running in races is beyond cruel
Oh you say, it is for what I believe in, I have courage to risk my own life
Or they deserve it, poor me, I have been hurt, I am angry
They will pay with a gun, bomb, or knife
Cowards not heroes, that is what terrorists are
Even an old woman could drive a truck through a crowd of people, shoot cops
Plant bombs, shoot into crowds and kill people near and far
COWARDS, killers ,not terrorists, not heroes, not Martyrs
COWARDS willing to kill babies, children, mothers and fathers
COWARDS let us call them what they are
COWARDS
The prom has finished
Last dance done
This Ohio princess
To be his one
Hand in hand they leave the hall
Hearts racing as they had a ball
Heading home on a glorious night
Dressed to the nines, a wonderful sight
Full moon shining as they cruise home
This graduating pair want to be alone
A wooded clearing they know from their youth
Is to be where their bodies soothe
Parked and nervous as they climb in the back
This is no one of night, its more than that
She takes his hand, places on her breast
Her loved eyes full of zest
Now semi clothed her breasts bare
His hands walking, where before they would not dare
Trousers down, boxers too
Her hand slides down on Mr you
Her lovely gown adorns the floor
Her panties scented perfumed amore
Hard and wanting she guides him home
Their loving to be sealed, as their hands roam
They love in tandem as the car sways
Fondling touching in loving ways
Pulling him in as he hardens more
Head throbbing as he loves her core
Screams of joy as their love is mixed
They share their moment, eyes fixed
Warmth and desire fills the air
This young couple now a loving pair
Passions ease as they hold each other
In this moment they are both in clover
Dressed and dishevelled as they head of home
Thinking of how their bodies roamed
He walks her to her door
Where he's picked her up many times before
He holds her close to kiss good night
This loving couple, a lovely sight
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/love.php