Long Overcrowded Poems
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I have to be patient, and not too concerned
About the things I can’t manage
If some of the stones I left lying unturned
For this I cannot be disparaged
The island is so overcrowded and small
New comers arrive by the boats
They want to steal space, so the natives can fall
Into the sea full of ghosts
But what was Mayflower by modern esteem?
No politics here, just a fact:
A boat full of immigrants, led by a team
Of Jesus freaks with legal act
To establish an ownership far, far away
They claimed it “the promised land”
How can you deny others doing the same?
For jobs you won't do they're godsend.
the sun bakes me
there is no shade in sight
time is going by very slowly
all i have in my name is me
the insects hunting in the grass and in the air are better off than me
there are no hiding places anymore
nevertheless i find a corner to myself in this overcrowded world
the rain awakes me
there is no shelter to remedy my plight
my inner feelings are very lowly
all i have in my name is me
the overpopulated squirrels and the stray cats roaming are better off than me
there are no friendly faces anymore
nevertheless i find a small crevice to myself where i can become dry and unfurled
I feel like giving up…
I don’t know why, I just do…
I just do…I feel blue…
Wish my eyes were shut with the finest super glue…….
I am like two deserted lands…
No one seems to understand where I stand
I am but a broken cup…
In your quivering, shivering hands…
Things are truly getting out of hand…out of hand…
Lament and doubts dripping with morning dew…
I just feel so blue, so through with you,
Always hurting me with rue…
Who knew…who knew it was true…too true to be true!
You meant to hurt me with your cruel rue...
Yes, you did...
You hurt me to the deepest, narrowest core
You try your hardest and best to slam the door
So that I can feel your abandonment, It’s still with me…lingering inside me
You meant your rejection and desertion unfortunately, sadly, cruelly, and mean-spiritedly
You meant to hurt me with your cruel rue...
Yes, you did...
I felt your cruel, but true rue
Such true rue I felt
When you left without a clue
You made me melt…
Like an ice cube, left in the sun for far too long
You were gone for so long!
Can’t really seem to belong…
I felt it so out of the blue…
Felt your cruel hatred and unnecessary dread, doing me wrong, yes, doing me wrong
And you knew all along…
That I am alone among…
Your crowd of remorseful happiness and fake contentment…
I am overcrowded by your twisted bliss and sick resentment…
It’s way too true to be true…
You meant to hurt me with your cruel rue...
Yes, you did...
You meant to hurt me with your cruel rue...
Yes, you did...
Getting rid of the madness and sadness and insanity
That once hid inside me...right in plain sight, you see?
Saying my goodbyes to the goodbyes you bid..
It is easy for me to look beyond myself in Canada,
I do not have to go to a third world country;
or very far, I just need to look in Northern Ontario,
to the First Nation reserves to see horrible conditions.
Yet, although these people have no access to water,
overcrowded homes, unemployment, high food costs;
limited health care and are poor beyond poverty,
they have something within that there is no price for.
They have courage, you can see it in their eyes,
and they have forgiveness for all that has been done;
there are lessons to be learned from these people,
that no amount of money could ever buy.
They have strength of character, respect and love,
of their community, belief in the Grandfather Spirits;
they care for their old, do the best for their children,
and can smile though they have nothing of value.
But I think they have a lot of value . . .
_____________________________
February 3, 2019
Poetry/Free Verse/A People of Courage
Copyright Protected, ID 19-111-690-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
I have to be patient, and not too concerned
About the things I can’t manage
If some of the stones I left lying unturned
For this I cannot be disparaged
The island is so overcrowded and small
New comers arrive by the boats
They want to steal space, so the natives can fall
Into the sea full of ghosts
But what was Mayflower by modern esteem?
No politics here, just a fact:
A boat full of immigrants, led by a team
Of Jesus freaks with legal act
To establish an ownership far, far away
They claimed it “the promised land”
How can you deny others doing the same?
For jobs you won't do they're godsend.
7/26/17
Going to the top of the stairs
And it's not going to stop there
Don't be full of hot air
Or you will not have a prayer
Occasionally thunderstruck
Going in and out the cut
Staying up
Instead of stuck
From dawn to dusk
Ongoing for such and such
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
Staying grounded
Time to reach the peak of another mountain
Where the view has always astounded
Skies that are clear or clouded
Areas that are empty or overcrowded
Nearby and far away from any water fountain
Blood turned it into a red glove
A whole step above
More hate and less love
Won't bend or budge
Unwilling to end the grudge
Some just can't put it to rest, until they've won
blood to ashes
blood
he was born like every child
trained and brought up
in a poor community
among the hungry needy
ones was his neighbourhood
he was an innocent
young boy
who never stole
any thing for any reason
only but one day
ashes
catch him catch him
stop him stop him
ole thief ole thief
he heard behind him
as he walked innocently
with the bag of provision
on his hands
suddenly he was overcrowded
with too many hands
all around his body
slapping kicking wiping
him
chanting kill him
beat him
ole thief ole thief
get the fuel
get the car tire
let's burn him away
ole thief ole thief
he wipe he cried
he tried to speak
prove his innocent
but the heavy armed
crowd could not allow him
so sad so bad
he was killed
burnt like an animal
they keep feeding the
fire until he was burnt to
ashes
blood to Ashes
what a life
he was born in the ghetto
he died in the ghetto
at the end
after the whole torture
after the whole burning
it was so sad that
he was mistaken
for another thief
another person who
stole a pack of milk
in a provision store
and escape while
been Chase by the heavy
crowd for him
note
I dedicate this poem
to stop the jungle justice
in Nigeria
this is so common
people taking laws into
their hands
R.I.p to all the victims
say no to jungle justice
Nature speaks
Misty rain and thunder;
Elemental waves
~~~~~~~~~
Stormy weather
Freezing damp;
Igloo moments
~~~~~~~~~
Stranded here
No umbrella cover;
Long track home
~~~~~~~~~
Overcrowded shelter
Corridor passage chaos;
Torrential rain
~~~~~~~~~
Makeshift parasol
Box carton head dress;
Soaking wet
~~~~~~~~~
Bamboo pines exposed
Scenes from Oriental painting;
Rain invigorates
~~~~~~~~~~
A touching craft
Miniature book hand made;
Profound cuteness
~~~~~~~~~
Spring cleaning
Christmas cuckoo coming;
Alleluia blessings
~~~~~~~~~
Once again we hear
Old familiar carols sing;
Peace to all mankind
~~~~~~~~~
Leon a Enriquez
15 December 2014
Singapore
In Nineteen ninety-six, our son and wife, Majors
In US Army, moved to Izmir, their new base.
As usual, whatever place they were assigned,
We flew to visit them as well as dear grandkids.
So off we went to spend two weeks in Turkey, this
Outstanding country we had never been before.
So much to see at Ephesus—Metropolis
Of Antique Age; The Stadium, the Harbor Bath,
Basilica, the Marble Road, Heracles Gate—
All ruins now. Were sad to see these wondrous works
Of art and architecture now in disarray
And strewn about on fields on which they proudly stood.
Of varied striking sites in Pergamon, we saw
The City Walls, the Aqueducts, Acropolis,
The Temple Dionysus, that of Trajan too.
So many ages, periods had ruled this place,
Artistic wonders, structures turned to ruins—works
Of Persian, Greek, Roman and more, in pieces lay.
Besides the many ancient ruins visited,
We were amazed that many locals spoke our tongue.
They did their best to make us feel so much at ease,
Were gracious in combined Mid-Eastern/Euro style
Of hospitality and types of food they ate
And served, like cheese, tomatoes, olives of all kinds.
Izmir, a city mixed with culture old and new,
Like modern shops and open markets, outdoor stands
With fish and meats on ice, yet weighed on modern scales.
And women with fine bread on plates held up on heads,
Who walked the streets in morning, dressed in peasant garb;
Yet working business women wore more modern dress.
We ventured to the famous city, Istanbul,
Surprised to see the many high-rise buildings there,
And streets so overcrowded with their vehicles;
Large offices and business centers everywhere—
Ladies with fashion boots, purses and western dress;
Big contrast with those living back in country hills.
Such history surrounds this ancient, distant land;
So many varied cultures ruled their sacred world.
Museums filled with artifacts from centuries,
Safeguarded and in view to honor and behold.
This trip shall always hold such special, vivid thoughts
For us to cherish and remember for all time.
Of course, this one-time trip was many years ago;
We're happy we had ventured then instead of now,
For times have changed; such unrest grows within our world.
Sandra M. Haight
~1st Place~
Contest: Memorable Vacations
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Judged: May 8, 2015
Iambic Hexameter
In these days and times
Women are not having
Large family's anymore because
They can't raise their kids properly
Without constant interference
From the laws and unfair rules
As a parent you love your kids
And some are a holy terror
But still why would any person
Go back in time and change
A fifty-year-old law that was
Place there for a valid reason
Like some human's lack of control
Some fathers, date rape drugs etc.,
Taking away a women's right to
Have control of her life, body and future
Is it just to build up the population?
What happen to free will or
A person's constitutional rights
In the end, It'll be more deaths
Child abuse, overcrowded foster homes
Look at some adults today, it makes
You wonder