Long Persisted Poems
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the roots – i.e. genealogy of words long held me
(no pun intended) held spell bound
e'en upon fertilization of ova and sperm viz – conception,
an acute sensory means n'er got drowned
out via the bubbling, dribbling, huzzahing...
(from within and without the womb) while in utero,
especially when me then young spring chick hen ova mum,
and cock strutting cock
(doodling his due tee) oft testes handsome dad found
their coop t'would be increased by another
(at that time no means prevailed to foretell gender,
but an old wives tale hatched
since time immemorial stubbornly persisted
if the husband put right heir (ear) to the ground
accompanied with petsmart skills of a blood hound
a close approximation could be discerned,
whether the swelling abdominal mound
would yield a son or daughter,
which second guess passed thru
the umbilical cord shaped grape vine as re noun
splendor – giving participants planning a baby shower
purchasing and showcasing an infant gewgaw
costing no mo' than a best seller by Ezra Pound
or a couple rolling stones,
preferably those flat versus being round
with assessment sans prediction per sex of offspring
offered slightly greater hedge Tibet
with recent introduction of ultra sound
nonetheless genesis (unbeknownst to either parent –
trapped in that role for a life time)
this fetus took a fancy to imbibing verbalization
that transpired between when shine
warmed the cockles and muscles of this parasite – ha –
expanding his vocabulary prior tummy birth in nine
teen hundred and...(th beh so thee ya haint tell in –
go ask aunt Roadie) or...find someone name Stein
beck, and give yaw self a pat on the back faw trine
plotting a tentative addition to family tree or
(what would turn out tubby more apropos) a vine,
cuz ma late mum referred tomb me as her little monkey
who when born deeply engrossed reading about urine
thence, when the pediatric doctor snatched the book –
BOY DID I WHINE
which out shrilled any wailing police car,
or emergency hospital siren
thus...i got christened RED (for short), yet code named 120 db
which translates as the decibel threshold for pain
even afflicting the dead poet Byron.
It was so long ago
But my mind doesn’t see it that way
And like a channel that only plays reruns
Images of you keep repeating in my mind over and over again
Over the years I tried to reach out to you
But I learned that you didn’t want to know me
We last spoke on the phone with forgiveness in my voice
But the love I once knew was replaced by bitterness
You said I thought you were going stop trying to contact me
I promised that this would be the last time.
I said I just wanted to wish you the best and give myself peace of mind.
But in your voice it was the seething anger and resentment that I could not deny
I said I was sorry for all the hurt, pain and sorrow and if I could correct it I would.
Why cant you forgive me what did I do that was so wrong.
And that is when I learned about what was truly told to you
To my surprise a giant lie, your sister said I raped her, now I understand why
She covered up her actions and turned me into a beast
This explains the hatred, the anger, and resentment you have felt for me.
However it doesn’t excuse the lust of my actions and what really happened
For days, weeks and months your sister groped, kissed and hounded me until I gave in.
Yes I confess to having an affair I tried to be faithful, I tried to be true. I loved you
But your sisters’ sexual lust took control over me she pressed my buttons for her own sexual
need
And even though I tried I was so guilt stricken I lied and said I didn’t love you anymore.
Our break up was created by your sisters’ lustful attraction she lied to cover up her jealous
actions
But with a burning in your voice you didn’t want to believe and so you poured salt onto me
but the next day your phone call confirmed the truth, your older sister confessed to our
agony
but she also said that she was in love with me of which I never knew
suddenly you want to stay in touch, I said that would be too much, again you persisted
Haven’t we endured enough pain to develop a friendship now would be insane, but you again
insisted
All those years ago the lie you were told now I understand why you hated me so.
and with a giant sigh I just started to cry and my heart just melted away
Unfortunately you said time has replaced me with someone new for you
(continued)
“The devil is alive”, someone yelled out. A congregation downing crosses crossed their hearts and prayed to God to extinguish the devil. Right then and there, a sensation ran from my toes to my head and I knew it was coming. But it couldn’t come, at least not then. So I constricted my hateful body and willed it to listen to me, but it wasn’t working. Desperate and afraid, my voice sprung to life. “Miss… Miss”, I tried again, “Miss Ava”. “Miss Ava!”.
“Shush, child.” At some point during the commotion she had come to stand beside me. She looked out to the crowd of men and women with firm determination and addressed them carefully. “Friends, why have you gathered here?”
A man at the forefront completely covered in black stepped forward. “Miss Ava, you are a devout God-fearing woman. You would not have me believe it has influenced you. That you have been corrupted by this devil.” His words sent the crowd into a fury rumble. Voices bounced off each other and somewhere in there someone mentioned father had been possessed by the devil. For he was not a man to give into worldly temptations.
Miss Ava stepped forward as though some silent consensus had been reached. The men with their torches and ropes stepped forward. And I called out to Miss Ava but she never once glanced back, only hesitated in her steps, but nonetheless persisted in her retreat. Tied to the pillar, the house and my body were engulfed in flames and mercilessly eaten alive. Skin, flesh, and bones were reduced to nothing but ashes; every trace of our existence gone in the blink of an eye. Dead and buried without it even costing a single dime.
That night a wild storm hit. The wind raged and howled like a wild beast constrained. In it’s wake, 10 lives were claimed including Miss Ava’s. My story became a folklore, something children and grown folks (who should’ve known better) told each other to scare one another as though it never happened. They passed it off as The Curse of the Devil, but that was far from the real story. Now you know my story, I hope yours is as happy as mine. I mean it. Really, I do.
Click. Send. Are you sure you want to publish this story? Yes.
Mary Jane stretched and yawned. “Ahh, after five years of wandering around aimlessly, I can finally rest in peace.”
Restlessness in spirit...
he became 'The Corsican,'
over-bearance of a mother
he was forced to take a stand!
And he became...
Anxious!
Counter-veiling parent ways,
a struggle for his life.
A paradox, he was attached
to Josephine, his wife.
And he became...
Lonely!
From his father he derived,
magnetic forces... not contrived.
From his mother, discipline...
as an influence he would win!
And he became...
Aggressive!
All his moods authenticated,
and his habits demonstrated!
One reserved... he was alone...
when provoked and on his own,
he became...
Ruthless!
As a 'poor boy' he embittered,
cynicism as he whithered.
Feelings all about his mother...
made him wary of another.
And he was...
Suspicious!
Pessimism without rest,
as he tried to be the best!
Perfectionism with disdain,
Napoleon, he would remain...
Impatient!
A Romantic fantasy...
as he struggled to be free!
Contradiction... he persisted...
obstacles which he resisted,
and he became...
Neurotic!
Self-destruction played a part,
'Raison d etat' became his art!
His adventures they'd explain...
a defiance for his gain.
And he became...
Impulsive!
Betrayal was a theme in life,
his possession for a wife.
Hail Josephine in all her flare...
but she became a snare!
And he was...
Depressed!
Money, it was his obsession,
predominant in his depression!
Napoleon was...
Reckless!
Sexuality for his desire,
when a woman was on fire...
Napoleon was so naive
for any woman to receive,
and he became...
Secretive!
A pragmatist or so it seems,
a fantacist with his own dreams...
Two sides of great Napoleon,
but he would win!
And he became...
Lucky!
Napoleon, he was a charmer...
indecisive in his armor.
Napoleon, he had his way...
all his men that he would sway,
and he became...
Intollerant!
An intellect with awesome range,
prodigious memory without change.
A lucid mind that he offset...
those qualities which he'd regret.
Napoleon became...
Romantic!
An intellectual was at war,
satisfaction to get more!
All for his imagination
he became...
Obsessed!
Napoleon, he searched for light,
in the sky for his delight.
He claimed he saw his star...
and he went far!
And he became...
A Hero!
and crowned himself...
Emperor!
Robert's Book of Poetry
from Napoeloen...A Biography
by Frank McLynn
Thru maritime miles of minions in motion
We hedge our opinions while pledging devotion
To serving the Captain and sharing our smiles
Through barrels of onions and flea-bearing trials
But even the pirates who pose in a rumble
Are learning the merits of those who are humble
The path of our choosing where sinning is pleasure
Is better for losing than winning a treasure
I plunged overboard when I soared off a plank
At the point of a sword and a sore lady's prank
The captain's first mate made her daddy agree
That my fate was a date with the fish in the sea
I knew she was baiting my body at brunch
To catch me in waiting and serve me for lunch
All pirates are worthy to fish and to feast
But no one should make me a dish for a beast
From well on the brink to a splash in the sink
I fell in a flash for a female fink
I knew she was watching me fall in the tank
And laughing discreetly with Daddy to thank
I should have resisted the words that she said
But when she persisted they went to my head
I told her I loved her but so did my mate
Who never returned from his very first date
It seems bloody retching but fatefully true
When somebody fetching is fatal for you
You flee from the danger but fractured you find
That pretty young stranger has captured your mind
You think she is true but you never can tell,
Her saltwater stew is a bitter farewell,
A mob in her keep is the poorest of help,
Who force you to leap in a forest of kelp,
Though mad as an adder I drifted from reach
To bob like a bladder in search of a beach
The Great White beside me was my willing host
To have me for dinner and eat me the most
Then something resembling a storm with a tail
Came surging at me in the form of a whale
I lost my composure and when I passed out
She tossed me all over to sit on her spout
Upon this brave lady who skirted the water
I fled for my life from the ship captain's daughter
She brought me to land on the girth of her blubber
To flip me ashore like a lousy landlubber
From deep in the sea to a seat by a seal
The freedom I keep is a cheap kind of deal
The beach that I sleep on is sunny and hot
So happy to be where my honey is not...
My mind was relieved when my treasure was found
A matey retrieved it by scouting around
The pirate ship captain made sure that I knew
That me and my booty could stay with the crew
To all the dear pirates who thought I was bait
I gave them a hug and a kiss for the wait
For walking a plank and a plop in the sea
I'm grateful to know they would drop in for me
The captain was grinning and warming his chair
He said I was winning by charming him there
I gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek
He gave me a bug that persisted a week
He thought I was sobbing or so he surmised
For robbing is only for pirates despised
We spoke of the men who were glad I was back
To pick up their duties and all of their slack
The lady who dumped me was sure I was dead
For robbing and killing may go to your head
Her joy was to rob all the men of their stash
By making them jump for the sake of their cash
I thanked my dear captain for finding my gold
But then I refused to be found in his fold
I told him a vision of me that is true
For robbing and killing is not what I do
I spoke of a lady more fun by the day
Who wakes me up early but only to play
The gift of her love is the joy in my life
For which I am hoping to make her my wife
We met by the tulips that blossom and bring
The beauty of lips that we share in the Spring
I gave her my heart for the joy in her own
By acting the part of a boy that is grown
Unlike other pirates who pay by the drink
I saved all my rights for the way that I think
I could not foresee where my hunger might lead
But love is the fruit when my heart is the seed
I used my new seashell to summon the whale
Who rescued my life with a flip of her tail
I knew she would come in the course of her day
To join with us some in the horse of her play
We paddled a boat to be close to her reach
I knew she would vote to be far from the beach
We laughed and we played on her spout for a bit
When sharks were about then we knew that was it
I said my goodbye to that lass by the sea
I longed for the day when her class would be me
My waiting was longer than lovebirds can sing
The chance for a ship was my new passing thing ...
They taxed us without our consent,
we who though we were Englishmen,
said we had no say in governance,
so we simply boycotted them,
threw their tea into the harbor,
let them know that we’d had enough,
they sent troops to beat our spirits down,
didn’t think we would be all that tough.
But when they marched for Bunker Hill
two times we made the redcoats run,
they crippled themselves for ‘victory,’
come and see what the rabble have done.
And when they arrived in great force,
our militias then tasted defeat,
they forced our forces from New York,
and pressed us down though New Jersey.
Many thought the game was over,
that is was but a matter of time,
then Washington crossed that river
to declare we were still in the fight.
Surprised all the dreaded Hessians,
asleep in their beds at Trenton,
didn’t lose a single soldier,
come and see what the rabble have done.
When Burgoyne started marching south,
determined to split up this land,
citizen soldiers from all around
assembled to challenge the man.
Locked in stalemate at Saratoga,
the British went out probing,
not expecting our forces would stand up,
much less charge forwards attacking.
The great professional army
soon would find itself overrun,
the first big redcoat surrender,
come and see what the rabble have done.
When Britain took Philadelphia,
the rabble went to Valley Forge,
Britain thought they all would freeze,
dwindle away until no more.
But those cold men, no food or shoes,
persisted against winter’s chill,
learned old Europe’s fighting style,
under Von Steuben they would drill.
At Monmouth they gave just what they got,
held their own until the setting sun,
beat the British at their own game,
come and see what the rabble have done.
Again at Cowpens, Stony Point,
King Mountain out in the back woods,
when the royal army struck at us,
we gave it back just as good,
until finally at Yorktown,
a French fleet blocking the escape,
the rabble came for Cornwallis,
who could only yield to his fate.
They played ‘The World Turned Upside Down,’
believed that the peasants had won,
not understanding who they had fought,
come and see what us Free Men have done.
THE FALL OF THE WHITE ELEPHANT’S CAN’T FAIL IDEA
No self-respecting politician wanted to drink from that well
the self-inflicted delusion persisted for the faithful
they were shocked but not surprise when they learned
the head elephant had walked away with much cash
But his larcenous ways landed him in prison
Money, something very dear to his black heart,
or where his heart should have been,
felt good; he didn’t need the cash, he had said
he was wealthy and his multitudes believed his every lie
On and on he talked, the media checked his words
but to no avail nobody believed the lies the media reported
since they trusted their leader, no one questioned him,
lying became a part of his steady rhetoric and he escalated it
Until the day his forty thousand obvious lies were too much
and he lost the election by ten million votes
and true to his character he did not leave with dignity
he left violently
Not a word was heard throughout the broken party called the GOP
even they forgave him for absconding with much money
but the opposition had done its job of throwing the corrupt out
he and he was gone back to con-scam land where he had come from
But the gullible sycophants naively incapable of learning history's lessons
without critical analysis of what had brought down their party
immediately began searching for the one who could finesse the lies
their motto became "Stay True to the Big Lie" or "Ignorance is good"
The blind faithful obeyed his misguided verbal bellows
to vilify, discredit, attack and continue his false self-righteous ways
to obstruct the law that was in hot pursuit
the news that he was to be punished comforted the American citizen
But on and on they go lying and denying to this day
what the rest of the world knows to be true
but the demolished idea of establishing the next Fourth Reich
died when the cell door slammed shut
This land that's always searching for ways to perfect the imperfect law,
assist our sacred Constitution to forge forward
always seeking to instruct on freedom, liberty, justice
and improving those citizens' minds imbued with incalculable stupidity.
I sat there.
Stewing.
Angry at the world.
That day,
on Easter,
I had witnessed a Christian church service.
It was cult-like.
They worshiped beings,
having little proof of their existence.
They chanted verses and phrases in unison.
It resembled a hive mind.
I returned home shortly after.
I learned that I was not able to see someone dear to me that day.
Their loved ones were off to engage in cult-like behavior.
This person, so very dear to me,
was simply being dragged along.
And so I asked myself,
Why?
Why must this thing we refer to as religion,
dictate people's lives in the manner I had witnessed that day?
It is not natural.
At all.
Why must this person, so very close to me,
be strung along with their brainwashed family,
to worship beings they do not believe to exist?
They are trapped.
It is saddening.
For they cannot reveal their true feelings to their family.
This would lead to disappointment from their family.
For many others,
it is exile,
ridicule,
and disownment.
And so they are forced.
Because their loved ones believe,
they must "believe" as well.
If they provide resistance,
they will be coerced.
Relentlessly.
Until they are of age,
they cannot be free from the shackles,
that bind their family to religion.
Their family will never be free.
Their family will forever be chained to belief.
Until their lives cease,
they will be forever bound,
to false hope.
And so I ask myself,
Why?
Why must people's lives be shackled like so?
Why must this cycle continue?
This cycle,
of old instilling cult-like behavior into young,
of people becoming ingrained with false hope,
of individuals clinging to false beings.
This has persisted for Thousands of Years.
Why must it continue?
God.
Help.
Me.
I sit here solemnly,
knowing that nothing will change,
because it has existed for Thousands of Years.
All I can do,
is protect and shield the ones I love (the free ones),
from this Evil we know as Religion.
One clear evenfall, on way back to home,
She speculated a dark figure around.
She felt tiresome or it was real,
She moved her steps towards it.
As she advanced,
The shape walked ahead too.
Everything was not a clear vision,
It appeared intriguing.
Finding it difficult to not follow,
She determined to check that fellow.
Few minutes later, it became static
And crouched itself on a tree trunk.
Besides the unknown figure,
She sat down fixing her eyes on it.
He appeared peculiar,
And wore a veil on his invisible face.
"It's your turn today to rewind past"
A male voice uttered in the silence.
"What should I tell you and why?"
The curious woman questioned him.
"I am your close acquaintance,
for one last talk, will fade away in dark"
He firmly asserted the puzzled face
so that she could trust him.
"I just survived an ordinary life
And dedicated to my family.
Following the norms, they told me
Since, my childhood.
Forced to live within some limits,
As world seemed too unsafe to be free.
Waiting for a day, I could move out
Into the world of my dreams.
Breaking the chains of society
Which suppressed me"
The veiled figure laughed out loud,
"You could do anything from now"
Till then she didn't know his name,
Folks called him time.
She became as light as air, no blood and flesh, Leaving behind luminescence, she vanished.
Her notions lingered inside unsaid,
And lived an incomplete life.
Living into the fears, she reached
The last moment of her existence.
Since the evening, she wasn't alive,
Her soul was exiting the Earth.
Time, universal and limited for all,
She persisted her life span and left.
The clock, it waited for none
Just continued in its flow.
Speculating birth of living beings
And then, engulfing everything.
His one message for every woman,
"Queen!! Start living from now".
©?Aditi Anvita (Anvi).
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