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Long Poems
Long poem by Robert Candler | Details

Legend of the Red October Run

Dedicated to the 2000 National College Football Champions, the Oklahoma Sooners 

--------------------------------------------------------------

Over fifty years, boy and man, I’ve been a Sooners fan
Watched and reveled in their glories, every one;
But there’s no more glorious “Sooner Magic” 
Than the Red October Run.

The new millennium's first football season,
Excited Sooners fans’ hopes did soar.
They had tasted victory in Bob Stoops’ first year;
Now, they wanted - no, expected - even more.

There was a glint of promise in Bob’s eyes,
Strength and confidence in his every word.
“Our Team has shown improvement”, is what he said;
“We’ll win!” is what fans heard.

By September’s end, the Sooners were 4 and O,
A “cupcake schedule” some anxious fans would say;
Twenty-two days in October would rule their destiny.
Texas, K-State, Nebraska, the teams they’d have to play.

“OU’s October is a gauntlet”, said ESPN;
“Play #10 and #2 and #1…and win”?
So, on a rainy Saturday morning in Dallas,
The Red October Run would begin.

The Texas State Fair at the Cotton Bowl,
Fans were welcomed by Big Tex.
They screamed, “Go OU!” and “Hook’em Horns!”;
But none could imagine what happened next.

Heupel was a dominating General;
The Sooners Offense, his relentless troops.
Calmus and the Defense assured a total rout,
The Coach of the Day was Bob Stoops.

Sooners fans were wild, delirious with glee;
But Bob seemed focused and sedate.
“We’ll enjoy this victory Sunday;
Then Monday, we’ll prepare for Kansas State”.

No time to revel in the Glory, #2 was tough.
Better than the Huskers?  The possibility was real.
The road to #1 went through Manhattan,
And the Sooners would have to win it on the field.

The sportscasters had a field day.
Last year’s “coaching coup” was news again.
Beasley versus Heupel was “The Match-up”.
Could Heupel evade K-State’s awesome defense 
   and find a way to win? 

Again, Heupel and his troops met the challenge;
And as the Sooners “D” assured a hard fought win,
Every Sooners fan’s heart was stirred.
Could our Sooners be “Big Red” again?

Mighty Nebraska, #1, was coming to Owen Field.
“Biggest OU - Nebraska game in years!” Corso said.
It would be 1 versus 2, a heralded gridiron epic
For the coveted title of…”Big Red”.

It was OU’s biggest home game ever.
The campus was alive with vendors and would-be 
   ticket buyers.
Every Sooners Fan’s heart was pounding.
Could the smell of #1 stoke the Sooners' fires?

The Huskers struck so quickly.
At 14 to nothing, Sooners fans were stunned.
It was shaping up to be a long, long day;
And it wasn’t going to be fun.

Quickly tho’, Heupel rallied his Sooners troops.
They scored and scored and scored again.
The Sooners “D” built a Wall at the 50,
And would not let the Huskers in.

Winners, the Sooners ran and jumped with glee.
Fans flooded Owen Field, milling all around,
Praising and hugging their Sooners Heroes.
They even tore the goal post down.

Now #1, the Sooners had won it on the field.
Their preparation had been well taught.
Bob Stoops, all his great coaches and assistants,
Took pride in how the Sooners fought.

Someone once said, “Everyone loves a winner.”
Everywhere you looked confirmed it’s true.
OU flags fluttered.  Decals, hats, and clothes abound.
Come November, the Sooners and their Fans
    had been renewed,

There’s no slighting the importance of Red October.
The Sooners came together as a Team.
No doubt too, without “The Red October Run”
Their National Championship would still be just a dream.

For the next five games, it was simply unacceptable
For the Sooners to even think that they could fail;
And, tho’ Heupel played injured, they won the Big 12 Championship;
Great Sooners Defense had prevailed.

But no one gave these Big 12 Champs the slightest chance to win
Against the mighty Seminoles of Florida State.
The Heisman Trophy Winner was their quarterback
And their defense was touted to be great.

At the coin toss, Team Captain Torrance Marshall
Said to their quarterback in words most serious and sure,
“You took our boy’s trophy”.  Then he smiled,
“Now we’re gonna take yours”.

The Sooners “D” was everywhere and completely shut them down;
And, when Quentin Griffin’s touchdown closed the door,
Their quarterback knew that Marshall’s words rang true;
The not-so-mighty ‘Noles had not been allowed to score.

Yes, Bob Stoops and his Sooners knew the challenge:
To win Each game ‘til Every game’s been won;
Win for Sooners and their Fans the unchallenged right
To revel in the Glory of being #1.

Yes, my Sooners Team goes on and on,
Different faces, different names;
But these Sooners Champions will be well remembered
For the Season they won Every game.

Undefeated National Champions!
Before October, who would have ever dreamed?
Why, just last year, we didn’t even know the players' names;
And now, they’re College Football’s Greatest Team.

To overcome all adversity and rise to every challenge,
The reward for such a feat is being #1;
Their path to Glory born of a Sooners Legend
Called The Red October Run.

-----------------------------------------


Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014

Long poem by Carol Connell | Details

Seven Things The Lord Hates

Proverbs 6:16-19  These six things doth the LORD hate: yea, seven are an abomination unto him: 
A proud look, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood, 
  An heart that deviseth wicked imaginations, feet that be swift in running to mischief, 
  A false witness that speaketh lies, and he that soweth discord among brethren. 

1.	A Proud Look

It sadly leads a man to such disgrace.
A proud look first begins within the heart,
then manifests itself upon the face,
and to the soul, it’s like a piercing dart.

The Scripture mentions satan’s sin of pride.
He wanted so to be like the Most High.
It drove him, and it led him to decide
‘gainst God rebel, His holy will defy.

The lofty scheme of satan came to naught.
For one who thwarts God’s plan, it’s never well.
Devil’s pride like a web, and he got caught.
His destination is a burning hell.

If character of man toward pride is bent
the only remedy is to repent.


2.	A Lying Tongue

The only remedy is to repent
if lying words from your lips do proceed.
Deceitful speech can cause a heart to rent;
is like sore wound inflicted that does bleed.

For uttered falsities, the price to pay
in Acts 5th chapter, story we do tell.
Husband and wife both lied on the same day,
died at apostles’ feet and went to hell.

Though judgment for our lies may not be swift,
God gives us time so that we can confess.
Be sure that with your Maker there’s a rift.
Continuing in lies leaves life a mess.

If telling of lies be your sinful plight
you best do a 180, get it right.


3.	Hands That Shed Innocent Blood

You best do a 180, get it right
if you have caused death of the innocent.
Such acts, they are so grievous in God’s sight.
Taking of lives, for us it is not meant.

How sad to read the tale of Abel and Cain,
first murder ever, spawned by jealousy.
The anguish of a brother that was slain
caused both their parents untold misery.

Each day the countless deaths of the unborn
regarded as just tissue, swept away.
Oh how the heart of God must truly mourn
as precious lives are trashed like worthless clay!

The path of such a sin, where does it start?
It’s deep within the bowels of the heart.


4.	An Heart That Deviseth Wicked Imaginations

It’s deep within the bowels of the heart
where thoughts of murder, rape and lust do spring.
Way down inside a man the crime does start.
The human heart is such a wicked thing.

Ill musings that are born of hate and greed
like venom that’s a poison to the soul,
when brooded on eventually will lead
to birthing of ungodly, evil goal.

The doing of all wrong first starts within.
It grows inside the heart before its birth;
does incubate and manifests as sin
and causes untold pain upon this earth.

Devising wicked imagination
bringing serious trepidation.


5.	Feet That Be Swift In Running To Mischief

Bringing serious trepidation
feet that run fast to do an evil thing
to their victims, a source of frustration
through infractions such trouble they do bring.

They cause tribulation, pacing the streets
with purpose in mind, never to do well,
race to computer spewing vicious tweets
perhaps inspired by the imps of hell.

Their wily unrest mostly in the night
scarcely aided by flashlight or candle,
upon spoil of others they take flight
to pillage, steal, maim, destroy and vandal.

The ones possessing mischief running feet
from such evil ways they ought to retreat.


6.	A False Witness That Speaketh Lies

From such evil ways they ought to retreat;
cease from character assassination.
Untruthful words they ought not to repeat
that ruin some poor soul’s reputation.

Some, they choose to speak such fabrication.
Do they think it might make self look better?
In the end it will be their damnation,
turning them into eternal debtors.

Don’t spin tales to make someone look bad
or secure a desired position.
It’s not worth it, and you will not be glad.
It leads to your personal perdition.

A false witness that speaketh cruel lies,
he is a foolish one that is not wise.


7.	He That Soweth Discord Among Brethren

He is a foolish one that is not wise
sowing seeds of discontent and discord.
Maker of division, it’s no surprise
his subtle dealings, hated by the Lord.

When he feels to him, there has been offense
immediately to blabbing he does go.
To him it only makes perfect sense.
His perceived injustice all should now know.

The devil uses him to cause church splits
in assemblies that have sweet unity.
The discontented throws his hissy fits,
for turmoil makes opportunity.

When grumbler gets all up in your face
it sadly leads a man to such disgrace.

Copyright © Carol Connell | Year Posted 2017

Long poem by Gerald Dillenbeck | Details

Genesis of Integrity

Who died
and made God the Father
the Christian Natural Law Body of Cooperative Redemption?

Well, dear, that was Jesus of Nazareth,
your CoMessianic Avatar of regenerative health trends,
remember?

Right,
OK, so,
in my heroic ego-narrative,
we are the purest, most right, oldest exegetical unchanging Words of Jesus' cooperative-organic BodySpirit ourselves,
Spiritual Avatars of God the True Father Conservationists.
My vocation,
and your true Jesus-given MindBody of Christ vocation,
is to integrate
to transubstantiate humane integrity
within Love's cooperative WinWin potentialities,
multiculturally speaking.

We are the Body of Christ's most fertile becoming polypathically cooperative, enspirited with co-arising trust, together,
co-redemptively within our organic-cooperative ecotherapeutic Body of Christ's co-creative Earth regenerativity 
of fertile regenetic multiculturing evolution.

Honey, is this supposed to be turning me on?
Because it's not working.
Too many words.
No rhythm.

On and in and around this disintegrating Body of Christ Place,
we cohabit with those arrived and gone before,
and those to follow our paths toward increasing positive-organic integrity.

Is this where we finally approach climax?

Prior to our Body of Christ presence,
and still to this day,
Earth's natural-spiritual progressions
through forested
and oceanic
and atmospheric
healthy climates,
both bio- and eco-systemic,
then, more recently, both Western encultured anthrocentric
and nonWestern encultured ecocentric,
would together (Christ's SpiritMind and NatureBody) consecrate
transliterate
sacred ecology of our cooperatively integrating health-potential,
Love's eco and biotherapeutic Body of Christ embers
of embryonic Creation 
of CoMessiah understories,
prehistoric through now increasingly both-and
matriarchal her-storic 
with His Patriarchal Body of Conserving Purity of Christ's Original Intent.

We, Conserver Avatars of ReGenerative CoMessiahs,
regardless of class or race or gender or nation,
would not naturally or spiritually choose monopolistic purity of MindBody
over multiculturally organic-regenerating empathy,
but search instead for purest loyalty
to following wherever Christ's co-empathic integrity
of polypathic-nurturing love
leads toward cooperative self/other regeneration
of healthy bio-eco systems.

Here, only, lies time invested embodying Christ's Original Intent
more than merely competitively spent,
exhausted in WinLose unredemptive gamesmanship;
exhausting monoculturing climates
of overheated adolescent State-commodified Ego's
shaded quasi-independent hypocrisy--
as if this part of Christ's Body would better go it patriotically alone,
playing an internally cancerous 
LoseLose 
nihilistic 
terrorizing and fear-mongering,
condemning and disingenuously pathological game.

We either live and die together as One Body of Earth's Christ,
or we die by living too de-sacralized
desecrated
decomposing
degeneratively apart.

Purest MindBody of Christ could never become full-integrally optimized
as and with merely humane nature;
sacred EarthNature integrates all God the Father's living systems
until disintegrating into decomposing no-growth,
former-fertile systems.

No coherent 
rational 
healthy Body of Christ organic system could long lack, 
or survive de-valuing, co-empathically trusting integrity.
And, no system,
regardless of how loyal to its own MindBody of Christ virginal chastity of good faith,
could thereby regenerativey thwart co-emerging degenerative potential,
seeds of our own too purely autonomous
disenculturated
AntiBody of Christ degenerating destruction.

Could we have Body of Christ robust forests, 
with interdependent holonic nutritional root systems,
without Earth's  therapeutic surfing oceans?
Oceans, without pure yet integral sacred atmosphere?
Holy Spirit of Christ's HealthyWealthy Climates, 
without root systemic cooperative ecopolitical nutrition-systems?

No more could we have humane MindBody of Christ integrative nature
without Earth's Messiah-CoArising sacred ecology,
birthplace of Christ's organic-cooperative reason.

Now you're remembering the best part.
Let's go for a long walk outside.
Listen to the birds and the wind,
the ocean and the trees,
watch for clouds,
look for stars and moon light.

I see.
Time to clear our Body of Christ neural-sensory palette?

Time to watch for, 
and listen to, 
other forms and sounds and hues and cries,
liturgies of co-redemptive worship.


Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2017

Long poem by Ravindra K Kapoor | Details

Pink Pink Pink


Pink- Pink- Pink- Every peak has its own attractions, Like the mountains, The mounts of a woman, Have always remained, Her pride possessions. 01 It has the charms, More intoxicating than wine, As it reveals the beauty, Of a woman's alluring binds. 02 These mounts gives, The wings of imagination and colors, In the mind of an artist, And they arise the passion, In lovers mind.03 Their rise and fall, Has shaken great empires, Under their cool and peaceful shade, The dreams of a child form shapes. 04 Its serenity has given birth, To most pious and holy figures on Earth, And their warmth have shaped the dreams, Of many powerful kingdoms on Earth.05 They feed life giving milk, To every new born light, Every time they laugh and cry, These lofty mounts, Help in forming shapes, When the child begins its story. 06 But these pride possessions, Of a woman, These lofty inspirations, Of Poets, Writers and Artists, These magical charms Which often become more attractive, Than the face of a woman, Are facing, A wide spread pollution,* Which is the unwanted gift of Modern living and They are also the gifts, Of worst living habits, Adopted by thousands, and millions of woman, As they fall prey, Before the charms, And shows of modern generation. 07 Many such wonderful women, Who are in the grip of this pollution,* Have brought this curse on them, Mostly because, Of their own follies and errors. 08 Many such suffering women, Can really get rid of, From the curse of this pollution,* If only they can show, The courage to adopt, The natural way, Of living and breathing, Possible under the boon like shade, Of real Yoga. 09 The reasons, Of the distortions,* Of their pink pink ribbons, Are mainly the results, Of their own creations, And these results, Are not something, For which, One should blame, The destiny or God every time. 10 Some of the serious reasons are, Not caring rightly, For one’s own pride possessions, And the lack of, Physical manipulations. Not keeping, A cool and calm mind, And eating, From morning till night, All the junk foods and wine. 11 And working, Beyond all time limits, While stressing, your peaceful mind. 12 Running and more running To catch others, So that you may not leg behind. 13 And madly crying, For more and more wealth, Even if you have sufficient, For your life time. 14 Are the reasons, Which invite the pollution,* To sow its rotten seeds, To spoil, The enchanting valley, Which exists, Amid the mounts of, Pink pink flowers. 15 The pollution,* Can still be derived out, With the little practice of Yoga, But it remains untouched, And unsung about, By most of the modern women. 16 These otherwise elegant women, Regularly face the problems, Of distress, Lack of peace, And sound sleep. Which ultimately take away, Their happiness, And coolness of mind, Resulting in strengthening more, The un sprouted seeds of pollution.* 17 Still it is not too late, If they can only change, Their life styles, Their eating and drinking habits, And adopt from today, The way of natural living, By adopting, The boon like Yoga. 18 As the practice of Yoga, Not only add years to your life, But life to your years, as well. 19 Ravindra Kanpur India 15th Nov. 2012 *Pollution- The other name of Cancer. Those who want to share their views on My above Poem may write to me on my yahoo mail id: kapoor_skk@yahoo.com I would welcome your brief comments and if possible I will reply you. Thanking you in anticipation. Ravindra K Kapoor Inspired by Poet Destroyer I am dedicating this Poem to all those women of the world, who are facing any such problem of Pollution* And to those also who are not facing it, so that their life my feel the joy of living under the blessings of Yoga. Ravindra
TO OVERCOME OR TO TAKE PRECAUTION ON THIS PROBLEM UP TO SOME EXTENT- ONE CAN START WITH ANY ONE OR TWO OR THREE OR ALL FIVE OF THE SIMPLE YOGA EXERCISES I HAVE GIVEN IN MY ‘YOGA IN POEM’ SERIES 1 TO 5 ON POETRY SOUP IT- SELF. YOUR COMMENTS WOULD BE HIGHLY APPRECIATED. http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=490745 IMPORTANT NOTE: The best effects of Yoga can only be obtained if it includes the main exercises of essential ‘PRANAYAMA’ otherwise it wouldn’t yield the desired results and PRANYAM should be learn properly first. Ravindra K Kapoor

Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor | Year Posted 2012

Long poem by Bonita Mercado | Details

Thank You

Thank You!...

It's Black history month, so we come to celebrate, 
all the hues of brown that made our nation great! 

From Fredrick and Harriet to Mandela, and Muhammad Ali, because of the stance they took, we are allowed to be free. 
Langston, Louis, Billie, Malcolm, and  Martin, are only a few,
 of the great black leaders who have rep-ped for me and you!

George Washington Carver nvwas  scientist,a botanist and, an inventor too. 
There is no endeavor,
the black man won't pursue. 

We've made strides in medicine,
that many are unaware ,
 just google... John Jordan, or Daniel Hale Williams,
the amazing facts are there!

We have even taken our talents, to Hollywood,
We overcame racism , in an industry,
 where no one ...thought we could!
So, Thank you,
Hattie McDaniel,
Cicely Tyson, Sidney Poitier, (Porti-air)
Thank you, gone!

Ella, Mahalia, Marion, Natalie and Whitney,
Nat, Ray, Barry, Isaac, and Teddy.
Luther, Gerald, Michael, and Prince...
 I heard you on the radio,
And I've been in love, since!

You have all gone on to glory, 
but your music we won't forget,
Missing your physical presence,
Is our only regret!

We say,
Thank you, 
to ALL, of our fearless athlete,
Your dedication and diligence 
 made you, 
nearly ... IMPOSSIBLE to defeat!

Jesse Owens, Wilma Rudolph,
Arthur Ashe, Williams Sisters,  and Hussain Bolt,
Your athletic prowess,
give the ENTIRE world ...a jolt!

Thank you, 
Simone Biles ...a phenomenal gymnast you are,
And thank you,
Misty Copeland...for raising the bar. 
 You opened the door,
 to the American ballet , 
and now, other black girls, 
aspire...to be you one day!

Simone Manuel,
an Olympic champion, of the pool,
Her tenaciousness and ability,
made swimming look cool. 

I can't name you all, 
because they are many, many more, 
I could compile a list..that would fall to the floor.

Our journey, hasn't been easy, 
That story, I could never sell,
For we looked towards Heaven,
When we were going thru Hell!

We are an accomplished people,
Because we are willing to fight,
We have been beaten and ostracized, for defending our rights.
When we immersed ourselves into politics, 
we continued to excel.
Thus,  Barack Obama, moved into the White House...
With his classy wife, 
Michelle!
And though his adversaries, tried to cause him drama, 
He persevered and overcame! Our FIRST,  black President,
 We love you, Obama!
May God grant you...longevity,
good health, and a life void of strife,
Now that you have left office,
and have returned,  to civilian life!

Our People, were many times denied-a formal education, 
But that, didn't diminish...our ability,
nor curb our motivation.

Our education was Oftentimes, self-taught,
It unfathomable, that one of US,
sits...on the Supreme Court!

Black people have gone from the slave house, 
to the White House.
From share croppers to show stoppers!

From the back of the bus,
 to driving the bus, 
Now...the owner of the bus,
looks like us!

From cleaning the office ,
to becoming the CEO,
America has Watched us hustle, 
She has watched us flow!

There is no ceiling, 
that we can't crash, 
We are fortuitous people, 
Just check out our past!

There is no challenge we won't meet 
We may fall, 
 But we get back on our feet!

Black people...
there is nothing ,
that can stop you, from being a success!
You are highly favored and divinely blessed!
So fight your fight!
encourage others to do the same,
You shouldn't  do it for money, 
Nor , should you do it for fame!

Each one, must teach one,
So, that we continue to advance,
We must empower the next generation...
if we are to have ,
a fighting chance!

Thank you America, 
For the certification,
That once you brought us here,
We helped BUILD this nation!

We are believers and achievers,
We are originators, 
and innovators
Black people are, Athletic, and Poetic, 
we are, Intelligent, 
and Socially relevant!

We are changers of the game,
And, No two are us,
are EVER the same!
I thank you-America
for allowing us,
to showcase our talents,
 ....and make You grand!

But, 
I truly thank you,
MOTHER AFRICA
for creating,
the BLACK WOMAN and the BLACK MAN!!!!

Copyright © Bonita Mercado | Year Posted 2017

Long poem by Darian Rehder | Details

Love, Death, and Rebirth

The signs started in December
When she started waking up in tears each night
She was a normal girl with dark brown hair and darker brown eyes
She had plenty of friends and a loving family with just one thing missing
Her father. 

Days passed by and turned into weeks but only felt like a few seconds
Her life just whizzed by faster and faster until it was just a whirr in front of her eyes
Darkness filtered into her heart and mind until she didn't know if she could go on
But she had to. She couldn't let her mother and her sister drown in this same pain
She wouldn't let them.

She pushed all the darkness into the depths of her own heart
In hopes to save the hearts of the two people she had left
Because what else was there to live for now?
The rest of her world had crashed and her mother and sister was all that was left 
She wouldn't let them drown in pain too. 

She watched as they started to heal in her loving arms
Their hearts started to lighten up once more
But hers was just as dark as it was before 
And growing darker day by day 
But she wouldn't let that stop her. 

Suddenly a year had passed... and then two 
It only seemed like seconds to her but everyone else started moving on
Her mother and sister no longer needed her nurturing care
But she needed someone to hold on to
Anyone...

With nothing left for her to take control of, the dark pushed past her boundries 
It found a way into her soul
Until all she could see was dark and no light 
But her mother and sister were healed now
They didn't understand

The tears came back and engulfed her soul
Bit by bit until she wasn't sure why she was still alive
The grief took over like knives 
Piercing her skin over and over and over
It hurt so much.

She started to wonder what it'd look like to be dead
She could see him again if she was
Wouldn't it be so much easier than having to endure this pain?
Wouldn't it be so much easier than having to live knowing she'd never see him again?
It would.

So she started to hate herself
All that negative energy was starting to take toll
Everyone around her was breathing while she suffocated more and more by the second
She wished she'd just choke already instead of living in constant pain
If no one would put her out of her misery, she'd have to do it herself

She couldn't see any light anymore
So she grabbed the pill bottle off the shelf and just hoped it wouldn't take long to die
Deep down she still had a spark of light, but she just couldn't find it 
And now it was too late in her mind to change, to turn back and try to look deeper
She was done living.

That's when people started to notice that everything wasn't as peaceful as it seemed
They started to see how deeply depressed she had become
They wanted to help her see the light again before it was too late 
So they sent her away to see doctors and to take pills to make everything better
It was a start.

She didn't see a change at first but suddenly she could think clearly
Maybe what they were doing was actually going to help her see the light again
Yes, she still wanted to die, but maybe that wasn't the only option anymore
They cared,  and behind all their own problems they were trying to understand
They really were trying

Six months longer she would be treated and cared for
Until suddenly she was sent home from her treatment and care with a smile on her face
She had a new perspective
Someone had helped her ignite that spark in her heart until it was a glowing ember
She had been reborn

Sometimes you have to be able to experience the worst of it
To come back shining brighter than before
And if she had died that cold day in October, she wouldn't of ever seen the best of it
Or known that it would get better
and it did!

And she now sits at her laptop, with a smile on her face and warmth in her heart
It's never been an easy road and it won't ever be
But at least she knows she's lived through the worst
And it can only get better from here

So whenever she feels lonely or gets back into that dark spot again
She can look back on what she's learned and can read this poem
And remember that she survived the darkest depths of depression
And she will continue to survive it as long as she lives
Because she is stronger now than she ever was before ?

Copyright © Darian Rehder | Year Posted 2013

Long poem by Andrew Crisci | Details

Another Little Mozart

One afternoon Martha the mother of Jack, who was in her early eighties, told an amazing story about her son while having coffee in the parlor with her neighbors; it was a weekly gathering to discuss about the Holidays, or just gossiping about people they met at the supermarket or at the Pet store. She gently sat in her Queen Anne chair and leg-crossed, she started to speak. Her gaze went back to Jack's adolescent days when her home echoed with his exciting screams when he played with Snoopy knocking down every toy in his way. She didn't mind, as long as Jack was having fun. She opened her diary and stared everyone in the eyes demanding attention, then her story began while outside the first snowflakes fell on the road rekindling the Christmas spirit.
Jack, was such a smart cookie, perhaps a-would-be-genius. He taught himself how to play the piano by watching his mom. He sat right next to her learning simple melodies. His favorite was, " Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star".
On Christmas Day while her mum was baking cookies for all the neighborhood kids who would stop by to play with Jack, something wonderful happened. She rushed into the living room and Jack was at the grand piano playing a beautiful melody, she recognized it and was behind herself. " How did you learn how to play? She asked him. " Easy, mom...I have been watching you for days and I have learned all the notes! " " But you are only eight! " She exclaimed by covering her mouth with her hands as Jack giggled, " Mom. aren't you going to give  me a hug?" " Of course, I am so proud of you, and I can't wait to tell your dad! " She picked him up and hugged him tenderly like the cutest puppy who needed a reward for his good behavior. " O little Mozart, play your music until I die! " Her joy was overwhelming as if he had fulfilled a prophecy of a prodigious child.
A week later another amazing event occurred. Jack wasn't in his room playing with his firefighter truck and police cars, but instead he was putting notes on the staff. with a black pencil, he filled out the music sheet completely. His song was entitled,  " Sweet Mom ". Being a novice, he chose the easiest key, which was C major. But the chords were missing and he hoped that his mom, who was a music teacher, would have put them above the staff to finish the song. He was certain it would be a hit song. Martha realized that her son did what Mozart did: when he wrote his first melody, perhaps out of whim, not knowing that he would become one of the most famous composers of his time.
Entering the room, she panicked not seeing Jack playing. " Jack, Jack, where are you? "
Her voice vibrated inside the quite bedroom. " I am here mom, I have a present for you!"  " Oh, dear son, you got me worried...I thought you had gone out to play in the backyard with Jim next door! " " No, mommy...I was writing a song for your birthday! "
" A song for me?" " Yes , mommy...a song for the sweetest mom in the entire world! "
She glanced at it, and burst into a joyful cry, " O my god, you are a composer...another little Mozart! " " Thank you, Mom...I wrote it because I heard that songs make lots of money today, not in Mozart's day! " He exclaimed with childish, unrestrained joy. "
Last evening I overheard you telling dad that you needed money to buy a new car, and this bright idea came to me." " Thank you Jack, I accept this wonderful present from your beautiful heart! " And saying so, she gave him the most tender hug ever,
filling up his frekled cheeks with her happy tears.


Written on 5/5/2016
Contest Judged on  5/7/2016

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by G. Jay | Details

Repost King Midas Golden Touch

Version 1

Broken hearts and disillusioned dreams. Broken toys and angels without wings. 
Weep for the fallen brothers and children without mothers. 
Pained tears encompass the empyreal rays.  Pompous worlds painted in a destitute haze.
Transmogrified in the iron flood. Transmogrified in the spilled blood. 
Frightened Children flee from the impending devouring wails of the banshees. Captured Children drown in the seas for the coming spring's garden pansies. 
Choked whispers, within frozen forgotten tale’s, the phantom spirits lurking behind the veils. 
The strong beguiled yearn for their thirst, obtaining the hero’s, plagued curse. 
A solitary cane and an abandoned house assembled upon soot. A dying hearth and a trembling  shadow with crushed raspberries underfoot. 
Greet  the honor, greet the madness, beat  the  dishonor, win the chalice.
 Defeat  the grandest, apparatus, acquire all the treasure's honored  status.

Version 2

Broken  hearts  and  mutilated  dreams.                    9
 Broken  toys  and  angels  without  wings.               9
Weep for the vanished fallen brothers                       9
And children without hope or mothers.                     9
Pained  tears  encompass  the  solar  rays,                 9
 A  pained  world  in  a  destitute  haze.                     9

Transmogrified, engulfed by  the flood,                    9
Swept  away  and  drowned in  the spilled blood.     9
 Panic   children   flee  from  shadows.                       9
 Spoils  feed the seas of  young  willows.                 9
Choking  whispers,   frozen   buried tale                   9
 The  phantom   spirits  behind  the veil.                    9
 Strong  beguiled only  yearn   for  their  thirst,        9
Obtaining the hero's plague's cursed                         9
Wooden  cane  and  the  house  build  on  soot ,      9
Dying  hearth  and  trembling bloody  foot .             9
Greet  the  honor,  greet  the  madness                    9 
 Beat  the  dishonor ,  win  the  chalice                  9
Defeat  the grandest,   apparatus                           9
Acquire  the  treasured   honored   status               9

 Version 3  DRAFT
in   panic  the  confused   children   attempt   to   escape  the devouring  shadows . 19
in   disarray  the  panic   confused   children   attempt   to   escape  the tempest devouring    shadows  24

 upon  the countryside,  the  spoils  nourishes the  advent seas (plethera)of remontant {young} willows. 21 (23) {24}


 choking  echo's whispers  frozen inside a  grandfather  clock   locked   in  a  forgotten  tale's, 22
Choking echo's whisper from inside the stagnate hourglass locked in the  forgotten tale's.   21
 choking   echoing  whispers  frozen  inside  the grandfather clock   hidden   in  the  forgotten  tale's, 24
 below  the  heavens ,  above  the hells,  undulating ,  waiting   phantom  spirits  lurk  behind  the veil . 24
Gaining experiences, the frenzy mass crushes the crying flower beds praying for children to escape into the wilderness. 33
The horde ravages the temples treasures commiserating their tokens of bravery by suffocating the light in a final breath kiss.  33 -34
Others and enslaved wrapped around neck chained by the umbilical cord of their shamed blood stained offspring 
Transmogrify the stream carves though the foundation of man giving, giving to the ocean of sorrow. 

Copyright © G. Jay | Year Posted 2017

Long poem by James Edward Lee Sr. | Details

A Sin Is A Sin Is A Sin Is A Sin Is A Sin Is A Sin Is A Sin

You have to confess, I know you won't believe this;
Most preachers/teachers preach and say;
It was Eve whom cast and cause the  "original SIN ";
But if I read my bible, the bible right, I believe that first this isn't right;
For Adam 
If he hadn't,
Bite ate of the fruit, it wasn't
Until he bit of the fruit;
When the dispensation of SIN, came riding in;

and the children say...
doesn't matter
A sin is a sin is a sin is a sin is a sin is a sin, is a sin;
and the bible says
A sin is a sin is a sin is a sin is a sin is a sin, is a sin;
No matter how big it is;
No matter how small it is;
No matter how gray it is;
No matter how black it...

Evil was present from the dawn of time;
The Archangel Lucifer had a different plan;
He started out admiring, ( then began to be jealous of ) God;
Then he thought he could be more than Him, maybe even over throw Him. .]
NO

and the angels did say
as the angels sang... they said

A sin is a sin is a sin is a sin is a sin is a sin, is a sin;
you can't be like God and think you can win;
Change your name from Lucifer now your just the Satan you old devil;

Spiritually bounded, created by the Heavenly Father;
But because of the fall now we all must be born again;
and the Choir sang. . .

Repent and be born again, git right and assured again;
Get in Jesus robe and be birth all over new;

and the choir sang as the pastor preached the sermon;

A sin is a sin is a sin is a sin is a sin is a sin, is a sin;
We all must repent and be born again;
It's not a denominational thing;
Just stop and sincerely confuse stop doing your mess;
Turn around and confess in all sincerity with your mouth, believe in your heart that Jesus lives, that He forgives and has forgotten your sins
and you shall be redeemed and may live with Him in paradise;

Now no matter what you do;
What's ya done doesn't matter if it's gray or blue;
What you done was it done hard core or softly monitored;
Our righteousness is as just in God eyes and nostrils as just filthy rags;
All because .. .

A sin is a sin is a sin is a sin is a sin is a sin is a sin;
Who is the world wants to be hurled down to the bottom, to the pit of hell;
Where angels and now men dwell;
Redeem the time, change your mind, it's not your way nor my way;
But the Fathers say...

and the children say..

A sin is a sin is a sin is a sin is a sin is a sin is a sin;
And all sin is, is just a disobedience toward any of Gods laws;
No matter what you do. . .
nor what's you've done. . .
Fuss or cuss
Steal or stole
Fornicated Adulterated;
Lied and Cheat
Abuse spousal beat
Child molester, Satan worshipper;
Backslider, rapid denial
Lusting after and everything, anything you can get your mind, eyes or hand on;
these and anything else that is not of God..
basic disagreement of the text (the word it self) 
just being disobedient not obeying His commandments
I (We must) stop turn around while He may be found;
Don't let the wrong choice process and Satan win (in). . .
because a sin is a sin is a sin is a sin is a sin is a sin is a

SIN


Forgive me Lord



From the forth coming James Edward Lee Sr. anthology  "Really" 2017(c)

Copyright © James Edward Lee Sr. | Year Posted 2017

Long poem by Eileen Manassian | Details

The Moment Passion Triumphed

I know you want to appear tough
You want to pull off cool
Being a strong macho man
That’s part of the unspoken rule

I know you act so indifferent
When you see me passing by
But when I happen to turn around
I see raw hunger in your eye

And when I stand close beside you
I hear you inhale my perfume
I can tell it’s so hard for you
Your work to try to resume

And then there is the silence
As you search for words so bland
You try for nonchalance
As you steady your shaking hand

I glow inside as I read
All those little tattle tale signs
You are so intent to hide 
That your heart’s already mine

When we all piled up in his car
I had to lean back on your chest
The erratic beat of your heart
Made me know I’d won the test

I recall you opened the door 
To let me in to the evening of glee
I wish you could have seen your face
Your eyes were devouring me

You tried to talk to other girls
But your eyes never left my face
You were staking out your claim
Your reactions I could trace

Oh, that sweet surge of power
To know that I could dominate
That I could turn strength to weakness
Because your desires I captivate

I made my way to where you stand
A slow and swaying stride
You looked at me perplexed
When I asked you to go outside

I wondered if they could feel
The burning heat in your stare
If they could see the passion
That in your eyes was laid bare

We stood outside in silence
As we drank in the city lights
The moon and the stars were alive
Lending magic to this night

I had become impatient
To claim sweet victory
When I turned my face to you
I saw you looking down at me

Your craving was unguarded
Your sheer presence made me melt
You took a step much closer
Fate a different hand had dealt

“Is there something the matter?”
Your voice caressed me with concern
I couldn’t find words to answer
I felt my cheeks quickly burn

I knew your pride was wounded
For I once already said, “NO.”
But now you were my obsession
How could I let you know?

With feigned calmness you stood waiting
Self-preservation mode in the way
I frantically clutched at the moment
Not knowing what I could say

It was now or lose you forever
My breath came out in a gasp
“I really want you to…..kiss me
To claim me as yours at last.”

The words were barely out
When your lips closed over mine
You crushed my body gainst yours
Made me lost to the world and time

I tasted pure delirium
My senses all aflame
There was no way to even try
Your flames of passion to tame

But you pulled away one moment
Fighting to regain lost control
I could see pride harden your face
“Do you think I have no soul?

You tortured and you crushed me
Teased me with each toss of your hair
Do you know how long I have waited?
Am I just a toy or some dare?”

My life now hung in the balance
For could I try to make you see
That my heart was now so ready
For your love to set me free

I stood inches from your face
“My love, this you cannot miss”
I kissed you with passion of legions
“Your answer is here in my kiss.”

Sweet reader, I’ll pull the curtain
On all the wonder of that night
One of passion’s greatest triumphs
To rival legends saw the light.

Eileen Manassian Ghali

Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2013

Long Poems