Long Rescues Poems
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A time in history, August 30, 2005
Katrina unleashed her fury
Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama lost lives
days pass, no help in sight, people become weary
Scenes of tragedy, despair, and suffering
chaos abounds in the midst of the storm
people struggling for survival, the Government buffering
states, cities, communities, neighborhoods torn
Katrina unleashed a colossal fear
with an amazing speed and power
leaving death in it's path, far and near
swift rescues critical with each passing hour
Quarter million people abruptly displaced
multi-billion dollar cleanup to be faced
economies and jobs were lost
Katrina unleashed! what a cost
Dedicated to the people in New Orleans that lost the most.
I saw him again today
It was the way it used to be
Or I thought I seen it that way
He touched me there like before
It took me to the deep dark place
Though it wasn't the way I remembered
How does depression feel on a person
I don't know, how would I truly know
Is it when someone cuts deep into the skin
I always thought that was a call to be noticed
Though I would never do such a horrible thing
Only because I'm to chicken to feel the pain
I saw my father for the first time at seventeen
He was pretty much how my mother described
I wasn't sure how to feel or react as we were driving
Or even what kind of conversation to have with him
My first thoughts were "why" did he leave me behind
Then I thought does it even matter to me about the answer
Or does he even care about how many times I woke up crying
Does he want to know if I take drugs or drink or smoke weed
Or even if I'm a virgin or not, and does he even care about that
I'll be going back to school next week where I can be me again
My mom will be alone again, I feel sad, but I can't stay home
I want to do the right thing for her, but I want to make me happy
I watch my friends at parties as they are taking their drugs
I wish my life was more like the movies where things end happily
And the angels swoop down and rescues everyone like me
5 16 2012 6 am Wed
Halloween was having a bad week said the rafter.
no trick-or-treating, no candy, no laughter
He does not want to show himself this year
no masks, no costumes, understand my dear?
Old witch was horrified, she had to coax him and convince.
She baked Halloween a pie fit for an ordained prince.
Popped it onto her broom and flew into the night.
She would speak to Halloween, and make things right.
Someone had apparently hurt his feelings, she thought.
Halloween cheered up a bit when he saw what she had brought.
Old Witch said, “so you will show yourself on Saturday, after all?”
“Okay,” agreed Halloween, which made all of us have a better fall.
THANKS GIVING
Walking backward Ill prepared I face things head on, but not the bitter wind. I turn my
back as I face my goodbyes , walking away I wave to my old problems: With a snarling
bite,the cold wind leaves me pierced and belittle.
Walking backwards I dare not face whats in store for me. Until this wind subsides and
treats me fairly, I will walk backwards slowly less I stumble. After my bones are chilled to
the core. I reach my abode, devastated and delighted, the fireplace lit and flickering. Still
afraid I wonder "what if" and I blame God,discounting the rescues; Then with every melting
bone and every thawing toe, I thank him/her, then realizing how awesome man is and how
far we have come. Annoyed I say begrudgingly "Thank you God " for this fire,and for
bringing us out of the cold wilderness. I say this hoping not to entertain the "What If's" again.
Forces, forcing me to open my eyes and realize that at any moment I could walk
backwards again, backward in the cold with nowhere to run, without relief; I can't think of
anything worse. So how can I or anyone come out of the cold ,and sit by the fire, while the
frost filled Ohio wind rolls off the Erie lake. Passing desperate people I want to collect them to
come and sit by the fire with me. I must love my neighbor,and share the warmth,the
fire ,the food,my home. In the old days we could, I cant live like this,,,,sitting a by the fire
alone, I think to my self "What If".
Stand Firm—Yahweh will CONFIRM
Yahweh Sabaoth is a Master of Legions
He fulfils the reputation of His Name
He Heals, Saves, and rescues His people
He draws in the New Citizens as
His Kingdom grows and grows
Yahweh fulfils his Covenant Promises
By opening doors that could never be opened
The citizens of God’s Government executes His Divine Purpose
The NAME of Yahweh shines in darkness
Glory to the Story of the Lord’s Redemption
Yahweh’s Kingdom is Peace; therefore,
Do not lose your purpose in Christ Jesus.
The NAME of Yahweh shines in darkness
The name of Yahweh sets you free
By opening doors that could never be opened
Yahweh Sabaoth is a Master of Legions
He fulfils the reputation of His Name
Stand Firm—Yahweh will CONFIRM
There is Victory Through Yahweh—a helper for his citizens in present times.
Yahweh helps His sons and daughters.
Mark Frank
Copyright 2025
I write upon my twisted trails of fairytales
Whereby some arcane beauty is defined
As meek blonde girls sweeping the coals
No chance to dance at balls
Hoping only for pity from some magic elf
Or a royal's fetish for tiny feet
But now she's shattering those mirrors of deceit
crossing out lies left too long on the shelf
She needs no prince to break her walls
No damsel wrote this scroll
while the black haired adventurer partakes of wine
riding on backs of disappearing whales
whose red shadows splash over purple pirate sails
by colors erupting outside gray lines
as she cuts holes in paper souls
of heartless paper dolls
Once she rescues herself from this passive pale self
she will quiver the air with her drumbeats
2/1/21
'I Write Upon' contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
The lake was beautiful and calm as you see yourself in it.
The surroundings were made of tall autumn grass.
Leaf's are shedding off aspen trees with cattails near
the mouth of a lazy river.
The setting sun brought out the beauty of autumn's color.
Using my cheap fishing pole, I cast out my bait into the lake.
As I watched my line slowly drift to the pristine lake.
A sparrow then flew into my line and tangled itself in it.
Without hesitation, I reeled in my line with the sparrow on it.
Gently I held the bird in my hand and untangled it from my line.
Amazingly, the sparrow remained calm as I untangled it.
It sat in my hand for a moment, and I cast it into the air, and it took flight.
There have been many more rescues of birds in my care.
One was a blackbird that flew into our sunroom.
It was hot in there, and the bird was in distress.
Its mouth was open and breathing hard.
I lifted up my finger to it, and incredibly it jumped on it.
I whisked it outside, and it remained on my finger
until it closed its mouth and flew away.
Another rescue was with a green Hummingbird.
It flew into my screen door, and it was stuck.
Calmly, I slowly wrapped my hands around
it as not to hurt its wings.
It remained calm in my hands, and I tossed it into the air
and it flew away.
Life, given a chance to live, will flourish before your eyes.
Women Bartender Parties
Their eyes watched
the bartender,
like a tennis ball,
volleying to each side,
bouncing, soft like
from side to side
of the bar, filling drinks
and old men's hearts
with wet dreams,
prompting the men
on gathering closer
to the campfire.
She was hot.
Their necks stretched,
minds made pseudo
claims, and mouths watered
of her effect.
She was young and new,
and too studious.
A librarian by day,
layers of academia,
flowing through her veins-
you could see that
she was smart, yet sassy.
There was no hiding, though,
the biker girl behind
those glasses, hair
in a bun, and brass demeanor.
She made sashay look
pedestrian.
She could compete with
a New York model
with her providence,
long arms and legs,
and a longer neck,
that likely sprung
a gasket in her admirers.
Would she lie?
When she gained wind
of whispering old men,
poking the shortness
of her denim shorts
she tickled their fancies.
"Is my vagina sticking out,"
as she checked her shorts,
innocence oozing from her
and sending old men's
watering hole to rise.
She was a frolicking horse
that put all the other
bar's bartenders to pasture.
She continued pouring
drinks, like how pouring rain-
rescues drought stricken
crops. She had that effect.
When she saddled next
to an old man, lucky one
at that, her gray eyes
boring into his browns,
as they split the night air
into little gifts,
exchanging presents
of knowledge of each other,
you could see his horses
neighing, too, nudging
to get out of the stables.
Did she say she was writing
a book?
He doesn't remember.
He remembers
seeing a moon flower.
She continued serving rain,
while the jukebox played
and the patrons swayed,
exchanging banter with each.
Moments later she did
the unthinkable-no
it wasn't a red scarlet.
Or connotative.
She drank, which is taboo,
matching shots of Royal,
three, with the old man,
while not missing a beat,
holding her liquor well,
and turning back his hands
............. of time.
connie pachecho
4/20/17
in one night crystal magic covers forest
forcing trees to bow toward ground
who is boss? Winter asks.
The trees go quietly, genuflecting
without argument, allowing her wrath
and her anger to agitate other forest components
Who is the boss? Winter repeats, wanting
them to give up their respect and their power
The trees hold fast, bending closer to the ground
Not answering, not arguing, not squealing
Their silence more effective than any amount
of words or screams. Winter gets angry and goes away.
Kicking snow up with her foot as she walks through
the months of January and February.
Trees smile at March’s sun, who heats them up
and rescues them.
I am so proud of you! She tells them; you survived
another winter.
In life we face both trial and test,
But God still knows what’s truly best.
We may be cast in furnace flame,
But God delivers, rescues - He is the same.
We may feel weak, too tired to raise
Our voice in song, our hands in praise.
Heaven may seem like brass above,
But God still showers us with His love.
Our hearts may ache, weighed down by pain,
But God still heals and breaks the chain.
He has engraved our names upon His Hand,
And He calls and anoints our hand.
He calls us friends, not just the least,
He has promised our names shall be great.
In Him flows life, the Fountain bright,
And in His Light, we gain insight.
All things work well, this truth we hold,
For those who love Him, brave and bold.
Our help comes from the Lord of worth,
Who made the heavens and the earth.
The fear of God, where wisdom starts,
And He declares – we are in His Heart.