Long Open arms Poems
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Why are there stars, Mommy?
What kind of stars, my child?
You know, Mommy, sticker stars, five-pointed stars and snowflakes.
Well, how about movie stars and TV stars and sports stars too, my child?
Oh, I don't know, Mommy. Besides, I asked you first: Why are there stars?
OK, you did ask first. So, I guess I'll have to answer, not that it's easy ...
Well, each star has its own unique -- style, my child. They may be as
numerous as the sands on the seashore, as God told Abraham, yet each is
a bit different from the others, ... in size, perhaps, or color or shape, or
even purpose or destiny,...
for you see, they're kind of like us in that way, aren't they?
We're all unique, all 7 billion of us earthlings. Yet each of us has a
different mission, a different purpose, a different reason for being
here. So, too, the stars...
Yet somehow there's something more to the stars, something deeper,
isn't there, my child? ~ Yes! God made those very first lights, those
original lights of the stars like our Sun, for our Sun is a star, SO dazzling,
SO incomprehensibly bright, that He had to hide that light from us
for a while, for generations and generations, even unto our very own day
~ until we would grow in stature to be able to receive ... to receive and
see... to receive and see, and welcome! … with open arms -- with all
our heart, with all our soul, and with all our might -- that special light
~ For that light, my child, that starlight, is God's very own Light,
The Light of the Creator of the Universe Himself.
And now you know why there are stars, my child.
We wait....standing time,
distant sound....bells chime.
Ringing twice....ringing three,
for you....or me.
Drifting fog....distant howls,
demons arrive....demons growl.
Chaos caused....friction ahead,
it's started....walking dead.
Graveyard risen....endless stare,
creeping forward....our nightmare.
Corpses strewn....new recruits,
some skirts....some suits.
Open arms....dead accept,
walking dead....living regret.
Gather weapons....discharge fear,
makeshift bunker....enter secure.
Silent prayers....deep breath,
moving forward....walking death.
Shoulder weapon....safety off,
squeeze trigger....rounds aloft.
Lead connects....rotting flesh,
creeping fall....repeating death.
Rising sun....ammo low,
walking dead....numbers grow.
Dead outnumber....living inside,
walls collapse....cannot hide.
Rifles spewing....final round,
backing up....corner bound.
Fate accepted....choice aside,
ripped apart....bloody tide.
Eyelids fall....blackness sets,
moments later....enter abyss.
Walking dead....numbers grow,
I've become....one also.
Creeping forward....endless stare,
soon becoming....your nightmare.
The day my mother passed- I was shattered,
I found myself wandering in a trance;
my sister had to hold my hand like a child,
there was an emptiness deep within me.
I was screaming inside- but she was too young God,
it is so unfair God, why my mother;
did you really need another angel that bad,
yes, I was angry and I was broken.
My sister and I planned the wake and memorial,
and I think we did an amazing job of it;
we selected a rose pink dress for mother to wear,
and we both agreed she looked beautiful.
(but I will never forget the smell of those pink roses)
We stood holding hands as visitors arrived,
and held back tears keeping our frozen smiles;
we thought it would never end but it finally did,
then, we were left alone with mother.
and we wept . . .
For she was the best mother to us every single day,
loving us no matter what stupid thing we did;
welcoming us home with open arms from failed love,
and how can we ever forget that beautiful smile.
She was loved by all who had ever met her,
at her memorial people waited in long lines;
to pay their respects for my mother- my best friend,
and still I am broken because I miss her . . .
every moment of every day . . .
____________________________
December 9, 2019
Poem/Narrative/The Passing of Mother
Copyright Protected ID 10-1206-515-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Memorial of a Loved One
sponsor, Chantelle Anne Cooke
Second Place
All mothers of this planet has given a painful birth to us.
They are extremely delighted to hold you in their arms.
Yes, mothers, they were born to give all they are for just a smile.
They are vigilant in protecting you from any harm.
They worry when you are out of their sight.
Even if you were adopted, they will always love you.
Yes, mothers can be very stern to their children when they misbehave.
They know that discipline will help you to survive this dangerous life.
When you are on your own, mothers will always worry about you.
wondering and anxiously waiting to hear or see you.
To run to you with open arms and smother you with kisses.
Even her son or daughter’s children, she wants to love them as she loved you.
A mother is calm when you are crying because of a boo boo or a broken heart.
She will hold you in her arms without saying a word and all will be right.
She wipe every tear from your eyes with a smile and a loving hug.
She delights in any gift that you made and put it on her refrigerator of honor.
At night, mother will look in on you and smile at her cherished loved ones.
across the black soil clay pan i wander and wonder
my old peoples homelands for millennia
shared now among our not just our families of old, but with newer arrivals
its not so much angst but a simmering disappointment
that our existence continues to be questioned
for where in history shall our learned friends sit when even they cannot acknowledge the truth
fear not i tell folk, for we a not foe, welcome we shall should you need to be
take all and give not they tell us for good, on knees we have worked
equality told but no equity served
humor and hope our resilience is strong as always we have and shall carry on
open arms still extended
offering naysayers in, we carry on the wishes of our old peoples hearts
learn and transfer
teach and acquire, knowledge and compassion our essence to inspire
Gaba Gii (good heart, Gamilaroi)
The wildflowers are beginning to bloom in the mountains!
When I walk among them it’s as if the Earth is smiling at me
and I wonder if wildflowers aren’t her subtle way of showing us
the kind of people she’d like us to be.
A wildflower learns quite early there is a struggle to be won…
that it must push itself through darkness…in order to find the sun.
A wildflower’s mission is, to a certain extent, simple
while at the same time utterly grand
to help sustain and maintain the planet…while adding beauty to the land.
A wildflower absorbs the sunshine…
its heart is deeply moved with every gentle breeze that blows…
It endures the rain and the cold…knowing they are here to help her grow.
A wildflower understands what make the world beautiful…
what makes every day a beautiful day
is how every flower can be different…yet is beautiful in its own way.
A wildflower does not hate, does not envy nor assume.
A wildflowers finds her joy in her ability to bloom.
And more joy in the wind, the trees, the birds that comfort and surround her
as well as in all the different wildflowers that choose to bloom around her.
A wildflower does not injure others…It does not wish or cause another harm
It accepts the bee, the bird, the butterfly…even me…with open arms.
Oh, if we could only be more like the wildflower
with but one mission…truly grand:
To sustain and maintain each other…while bringing beauty to the land…
To understand how we are all wildflowers
who bloom upon this Earth only for a little while…
and how we should live so that when we’re gone
we are remembered with a smile.
In the quiet of the night, my thoughts wander,
Like shadows dancing in the moonlight,
Lost in a maze of uncertainty and fear,
I seek solace in the whispers of the night,
Hoping for a guiding light to appear.
Alone in my wakeful sleep I ponder,
The weight of existence heavy on my chest,
Yet in the darkness, there's a glimmer,
A flicker of hope that refuses to rest.
I am a traveler in this realm of dreams,
A wanderer in the vast expanse of my mind,
Searching for answers that may never come,
But still, I journey on, leaving doubt behind.
Alone in my wakeful sleep I wonder,
Embracing the unknown with open arms,
For in the depths of solitude, I find,
A strength that shields me from all harms.
So I'll continue to roam this inner landscape,
Exploring the depths of my being,
Alone yet not lonely, in my wakeful sleep,
Finding peace in the midst of this unseen freeing.
SOUL MATE
For you I will change my life.
Someday I will become more than just a wife.
Not every passerby means something.
Around you, my heart will jump and sing.
I will always be around, like an air balloon.
While your air blows away the gloom.
Even when we are mad, or the times I made you yell.
My heart is lock behind your midnight jail.
Despite the times, life does not go well.
I will always be your soul mate.
Our love is entwining with the best heart rate.
Your soul and my soul will entangle together.
Creating a tangle, that makes things better.
I will reach you in every level of your weather.
I need you to feel me in this poem or letter.
The fascinated kisses where meant to last forever.
My heart is torn with the thought, I am not suppose let go.
My fate was drawn out to meet you down by the "RIVER POE."
Where we connected fast with my pink and green flow.
With you I will dance around the fire "NAK*I*D!"
With no bad intentions that are wicked.
Store the innocence of them eyes for safekeeping.
I do not care about all those dots, which have you tripping
Down in Mandalay, where you are in a world of sleeping.
I will clone our dreams to retrace the smiles on my face.
The one dimension that collides us in to that special place.
I want to reach you when you are low.
Reaching farther than I could ever can go.
There for you’re my one true soul.
I will always be there for you with open arms.
A reality that does not come with harm.
We are each other’s destiny.
We will have a life pass eternity.
With you, our numbers exceed beyond infinity.
You are my one true soul mate.
No matter how long we both have to wait.
Our journey will never end.
I can choose to be just your friend.
However, you are the key to my empty space of lost faith.
Moreover, everything in me tells me you are my SOUL MATE!
By; P.D.
For; N.D.
From a sinner to a saint.
From a sinner to a saint, Christ took me by His grace.
From a sinner to a saint, He restored me and told me to take my place.
He was nailed to a rugged cross, as He took my sinful place.
He knew no sin but He willingly took my place
so He could place me in a brand new state.
His love is that great. I have no time to waste, as I must embrace His grace to be able to run a faithful Christian race.
I must tell my mother, father, brother, sister, and everyone else about Christ's salvation plan.
His grace is sufficient for everyone who will accept His open arms.
There's no time to waste; just accept salvation before its's eternally too late.
I have taken my stand and am asking if you will accept the master's hand.
From a sinner to a saint, He wants to restore everyone and take us to the promised land.
Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall
In Chicago we have it all
Chicago Skyline with skyscrapers abound
Landmarks and tourist wondering around
Lake and beaches enjoyed by the crowd
Festivals fill the streets with sound
Driving down the blue highway
Views from the skyway
People crowd to the festivals
To eat all the edibles
As they walk arm and arm
Enjoying the cities charm
When you look up in the sky
Where all the planes fly
Looking like little stars
When seen from our cars
The streets are full of trees
Waving in the breeze
Flowers are all in bloom
Which helps to remove the gloom
We all love the Cubs
Some call them the Scrubs
On the southside blocks
They are about the Sox
We are all dedicated fans
No matter where our teams’ land
Even if it ends in tears
As our team has not won in years
Off goes another bang
It is another gang
Shooting their guns
Protecting their drugs
Another child shot dead
With a bullet in his head
Leaving everyone near
Hiding in fear
The politicians are crooks
Forging all their books
Living in their prison cell
After all the lies they tell
Chicago is known for a high tax
Putting the debt on our backs
Schools are on strike
Here comes another tax hike
Immigrants are welcome with open arms
Keeping them from harm
While veterans sleep in the park
With nowhere to go in the dark
Where homeless are the norm
Hiding under bridges in the storm
Rats and roaches crawl around
The smells of the city will astound
The city is always flowing
With the coming and going
We love to call it home
No matter where we roam