Long Right on Poems
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I came home one evening after a hard day at work,
To find a surprise waiting for me.
I ran to the table, my heart filled of glee.
I imagined him sneaking in with a sexy little smirk.
It was a wooden box, beside it a mask of snowy white
I opened it up and found a note.
Written on it was a cute quote:
“We will dance until the clock strikes midnight”
I followed the rose pedals sprinkled on the floor,
They led me to my bedroom.
My heart went boom, boom, boom,
As I opened the door.
I could not believe what I found,
For it was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
An elegant white with a beads of green.
On my bed was a gorgeous gown.
There was another letter,
This one written out in pedals all across the bed.
The message read:
“There is a hole in my heart, and seeing you tonight will make it all better”
I put on the dress and looked in the mirror.
And I found another remark.
“Get all dressed up and come to the old park,
Our moment together draws nearer and nearer.”
I rushed down the stairs,
Grabbed the mask on the way out.
Ran down the street, my mind clear of all doubt,
For this man was the answer to my prayers.
I got to the park and saw him waiting,
And I discovered I was not the only one to wear a mask.
He told me that I had one more task.
He said “Close your eyes and think back to when we started dating”
Obeying him, I closed my eyes,
And without me knowing, he got down on one knee.
Everything fell silent, then I heard “Desiree will you marry me?”
That’s when my heart burst into a million fireflies.
I opened my eyes, stuck in a trance
As I was not expecting this thrill.
I flung my arms around him and replied “Oh Stephen of course I will!”
Just then he grabbed me and we began to dance.
Just like his note said,
We danced until the clock struck midnight,
Holding me close with all his might,
Right on his shoulder is where I placed my head.
The rain began to pour,
So we ran hand in hand.
He said “This is not how I planned”
Then we reached my door.
We entered my house,
Where it was all cozy and dry.
Once again my heart began to fly,
As I stared into the eyes of my soon to be spouse.
All he said was “I Love You”
That was all I wanted to hear,
For me to wipe away all fear.
Knowing he loved me, I replied “I Love You Too”
*Not a true story, just a sort of fanatasy I suppose*
After finishing a seminar based on demand and supply,
I walked out to the street and hailed a taxi going by,
and as I sat down in the seat, the taxi driver said to me,
‘my, my, your timings perfect, you are just the same as Terry.’
I must admit he had me thinking, so of course I answered ‘Who?’
‘Terry Parker’ said the cabbie; a bloke it’s obvious he knew.
‘Yeah, anything that Terry did, he was right on every score,
he lived with perfect timing and Terry never had one flaw.’
I had never met a bloke like Terry, so I’m wary of the fact,
so I subtly gave me answer in a way most would react,
‘None of us are perfect mate,’ but the cabbie did insist
That Terry, he was faultless, and so few like him exist.
I heard that Terry was an athlete with the most amazing skills,
His golfing matched the pros, and his tennis playing simply thrills,
he could sing like Johnny Cash; and even better so I’m told,
he danced like Fred Astaire; his piano playing…simply gold.
I could only think he must be special, this Terry Parker bloke,
and the cabbie uttered ‘hang on,’ and once again he spoke,
‘there’s more to Terry yet, you see his memory never failed,
he remembered every birthday, and every one detailed.
‘He was a connoisseur on beer, and knew everything ‘bout wine,
He knew how to serve the finest foods; all simply pure divine.
And if anything needs fixing, then Terry was your shining light,
he was streets ahead of me, ‘cause I can’t do nothing right.
‘He could always read the traffic, and you’d never find him stuck,
not like me when I am driving, for I had none of Terry’s luck,
and I ought to mention women, and how he made them feel so good,
he was the ideal gentleman; he treated women how I should.
‘Terry would never answer back, even if the woman’s wrong,
he was a charming butler, and his charisma it was strong,
he kept his house immaculate, as no other person can…
no one could measure up; Terry Parker was the perfect man.’
When I reached my destination but before I stepped outside,
I paid the driver what was due, and then I thanked him for the ride,
but I thought it best I mention, at more or less a parting whim,
‘this Terry Parker is remarkable, how did you get to meet him?’
The driver took my money, and then he muttered deep and slow,
‘Actually I never met him, but I’m married to his widow.’
One December Night
(Continuation to the End)
All that year Santa had hoped and had tried to find a child's love that would strongly abide.
But month after month he was given the boot. It didn't matter whether he showed magic or
gave them some loot. Many children were selfish. Not one gave a hoot.
Until one cold blizzard night, in a stormy plight, the frog rang the doorbell and walked
right on in. In the warmth of the house, after ousting the mouse, four children accepted the
frog for his good. It was a happy sight for the frog there that night. Yes, they showed him
great kindness and genuine love, the
spirit of Christmas shown down from above. The purest of love without expectations turned
the frog into Santa who promptly gave each one hugs. “I'll be back with my sleigh to leave
gifts on Christmas night. Thank you dear children for your gifts of love tonight. Leave me
some cookies. I shall eat no more bugs! He laughed as he juggled three gifts in the air.
Then, soon disappeared out of sight by the moonlight.
The children, still laughing and squealing with joy, had broken a spell put on Santa
last spring. And the mean old witch that had made him a frog, sat sadly outside all alone on
the log. She had made him a frog with a croak, out of tune. She wanted his voice instead of
her own. Christmas carols she had heard bring so much joy. She could not carry a tune for
one single song. She had hoped she could sing if she stole Santa's voice. But the love from
the children left her no choice. The spell had been broken by love's sweetest choice.
But while they were happily playing about, they noticed the wand from the brown bag lay
out. So they went to the witch and gave her a voice. And taught her that goodness over bad
is a choice. So together they played with the now happy witch. Who gave up her evil and to
goodness did switch. The gift of pure love and light in the world is a gift to all who give
heaven a whirl. For even the wickedest of wicked have some goodness in them. So,
encourage the right and to evil say, “Take a flight!” (And let God be the judge…)
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
December 5, 2009
Inspired by:
Poetrysoup member's Contest Anything Goes!
Sponsored by: Constance La France (I took you at your word... It's a LONG story.)
What did she say when you told her you still loved me?
Did she turn away or try to disagree
Did you think about her or how she would be?
No you were only thinking about me.
She stands there now, all alone
Facing her fears of the unknown
Turning her head on what she's once known
Realizing now, she's on her own
With no one around to help her choose
She stands her ground, not ready to lose
Her head held high while hearing the news
To accept her fate, she must refuse
She tries and tires with all her might
To win you back every night
She has no plans to give up the fight
Any hope is out of sight
Her heart is now filled with hatred
Will all the love that you desecrated
With just that one sentence that you stated
Her entire life is now dated
Did you ever stop and try to think,
Just how far she would sink?
How close she was to the brink?
Or how it could all end with just one drink?
Just one drink to end all the pain
Just one little sip to break the chain
Just one to do the job, to her disdain
Just one and she will die in vain.
You don't even care to attend her funeral
To you she was just a girl that you could treat cruel
How could you be such a fool?
You don't even know of the fire you've fueled.
You come to my door and ring the bell
You send thousands of messages to my cell
Repeatedly the words "I LOVE YOU" you yell
But for all I care you can just go right on to hell
I don't want you anymore you Silly boy
I am no longer your stupid little toy
As for the loneliness you feel now, I hope you enjoy
Because you had your chance and my love you destroyed.
I am my own person without you
I no longer rely on your every move
I am no longer clueless on what to do
I know now I can move on to someone new.
As for the girl that you threw aside
I hope you think of her every time you cry
You're the whole reason that she died
If you wanted someone to love, she would have been there by your side.
She would have loved you the way you love me
But you never opened your eyes and seen what there was to see
I'll never love you no matter how hard you plea
So wallow in your self pity, you'll get no remorse from me
I hope you drown in your misery
Thank God that sad little girl is finally free
Thank God I knew it was time to flee
This is goodbye, so don't bother calling me.
My Sister when I was about 8 1/2, I am 38 now, passed away but before she did, she told
everyone this... "I am going to be Ok, and will be with God... I will get a new pair of lungs and
some wings to fly with Him in Heaven, and I will be His little princess..." On the day she
passed, in the midst of the dust floating in the room. Rays of light shown through that morning
right on her on her bed, covering her, and I truly believe that God came and picked her up
personally Himself that day, and carried her off to Heaven with Him...
Precious on her last litter had a kitten that looked, and I mean looked dead on herself... So
we named her Princes... She was the most crazy cat I have ever known... and had an air
about her that said to all... "Hey!" Look at me!" "I am a Princess" ... She was so very proud of
herself for this, but never neglected her Mother's way, and was never disloyal to the family...
She always loved to play with us and her Mother (Chasing her around the house, daring her,
and reminding her to play), because I believe this... She was just crazy about life... "Just
crazy about it, and as grateful as her mother, and my SIster," because though my Sister,
though she was very spirited about her condition. She still desired to live her life just like
another child her age would, and would carry this burden from time to time, as it would come
to the surface, and make her blue, the fact that in reality, she could not... So princes would
just fly around the house like a whirlwind, and would always come to land in someone's lap,
or arms or beside you in bed purring or at the foot of someone's bed at the end of the day,
and would awaken as lively and in a dead run, to do it all again the next day... We loved her
dearly too... because of her adoring for her life itself... and the energy that she put into
enjoying it... Because she too, had lost her little brother, a few hours after he was born...
She too reminds me of my Sister Tina, in this way... That life is sometimes a struggle, but is
always evolving and always comes back to itself in time, and is always turning full circle...
and is forever advancing towards all in gratitude... and exists and moves abundantly, within
itself and lives for this one passion...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g3C7DECI0jU&feature=related
Life most certainly seems like it’s so easy to some people
And you may be right on, to something
That is, if you are looking at life as a, one period at a time, thing
But when you get the chance to add every period together
Then his life or hers, is not so different than yours
It’s just a matter of how we wear our differences
Life is a lot like the clothes we put on
And/or whether, if how we wear it, puts a smile on our faces
And how that same smile can be re-assimilated to other races
It’s all about reaching the best illusions of the truth
And the truth is…We can wear anything we want to
You and I, certainly earned our right to choose
We’ve inherited it
That is your gift
And your gift is the same as mine
But it is the same in a different way
Like how an art is different to another art form
Where every art is beautiful
Where every beautiful thing has its story
Where every story has a home in mind
And where every home is also where the heart wants to live
But I’m not talking about the heart that pumps blood in our veins
But the heart with its entire soul, unified in spirit
Like when you close your eyes, knowing full well God is in it
Like the most feasible conclusion to a punch line
Sometimes it doesn’t make sense but you get it anyhow
Because for some reason the joke made you to laugh
And your laughter makes someone else, to laugh
And all the sudden, you are a genius
All because you recognize the point to a period
And life gets reborn; that moment on
But seriously the joke is in you
And I mean that in the most constructive way
Because if you were to break that down to the tiniest piece
Life becomes all too small to miss
Or else we’re left just to reminisce
I suppose, that is, what it is, where it comes to the truth
We can only control what we can control
And we can only become who is already inside of us
And so, I thought we must all reach a point of acceptance
"This is who I am"
"This is who we are"
Individually "This is my world"
Together, “It’s ours universe”
There’s always a time to be picky and to be reserved
But now is definitely not one of those times
Because this moment, is your time to choose
As to which life to wear and what makeup to make up on
Where the best way to celebrate being, the same, is to make a difference to others
By:Wilbert E. Dela Cruz
A man sits down right on a bridge
In water he throws random rocks.
His main goal is plain and simple,
He wants to hit some swimming ducks.
The neatly stacked in brain thoughts,
Were put in there last night in bed,
Because the man needed some bucks
And found granules of dust instead.
The rage of poverty took place.
He just had no one in the world
To give his body an embrace,
So he could feel a little loved.
The present morning he woke up,
With all connected to revenge.
For all these years he had enough;
Existence pushed him on the edge.
He blinked a few times at the sun,
Which dingy windows hardly showed,
And briefly made his mind to run
At the nearest bridge he’d known.
There, with all his might he shouted:
“I’ve played your game too long this time,
Spiral ends, my souls have voted
The main learned lesson is all mine,
In the crude evolving stages,
I have survived with all my wits;
The brain passed the test of ages,
The body rotted from the roots.
Oh, the years of desolation,
You have condemned my being through…
My patience runs thin as paper.
I’ve had enough of all of you!
I want the game of life to stop,
And rewards for all I’ve suffered.
The seeded things I shall not crop,
The given land does not suffice.
Abrupt the torment has to end,
Your point has been more than proven,
There’s nothing else to understand,
I want to come back to the end.
In recognition for the way
Creation made me feel and think,
I only want the light of day
To turn into the night of death.”
If another could see the play,
And realize just what he hears,
The mirror of the lake would pray:
“Please shout your grief another way!
You’re scaring all the ducks away
And they’re just here for the water.
Your upset mood about your state
Should be told to another matter,
Which can be found solely in you,
Not in the lake, not on the earth,
So go and look a bit though
The pages of your memory!”
The other stood flabbergasted:
“Why should the lake talk to a bum?”
But his mind would soon inquire:
“Did you have a few drinks of rum
Or this is only consciousness
Going a bit towards insane?"
From simply creeping from wetness
Sadly it’s all what we became.
It may be painful to admit,
Despite the one given status,
Humanity is just a hint
Of what transcends the Universe.
My Handicap Beach
As I lay here and look out the window from our hotel at the absolutely amazing view..
It makes me wonder how something so simple creates such beauty and always seems so new..
I feel sadness for those who pass by every day and don’t think another thought about..
The beauty that surrounds them from the beach and the water with the waves washing in and out..
The lighthouse that stands unintentionally stoic and tall and lights the way for those out at sea..
And the sand that finally runs across my toes which has been a dream for so long for me…
This was only possible with the help of a loving person who got me where I needed to go…
And to whom I really hope does realize how much they have helped me in many ways to grow..
And there are always a few people that have to make a spectacle of a girl in a wheelchair..
As they walk by me and say things in a whisper as if they think I can’t hear along with a stare here and there..
If they only knew that It was one of the best days of my life and that I am feeling so relaxed and at ease..
I will take all of their comments and let them go over my head along with the beautiful breeze..
Because this morning I may have been the disabled girl on the beach which was a wonderful thing to me..
And until you learn to see the view from down in a wheelchair every day I don’t care what you think you see...
Because today my view was from the warm sand on a beach towel that was laid down just for me and was the best..
Day I have had in so long because I was no longer that poor gilt in the wheelchair and felt almost like all of the rest..
Of beach goers and comers to the new jersey shore in Atlantic City and right on the pier that is very well known..
For gambling and partying but for me it was just to feel the sand on my toes and feel like I was not handicapped if even for a few moments alone..
Coming home with my stuff in disarray the way it always is along with a few souvenirs because they are from my very first trip away from home..
I loved it so much and want to thank those who took me long on a short but awesome vacation to start me going more which I really hope..
Because it’s nice sometimes to go to places that make you feel different than the usual girl in the wheelchair always needing help from what I call in my head my proverbial rope..
Buffy Sammons
Brittany is a little girl,
who's starving for attention.
So many things are wrong,
and only few she can mention.
She would go to school,
just trying to et out.
but it never failed cuz every night,
her parents would scream and shout.
her dad barried alot of hatred,
he always had a closed fist.
i guess that's how expressed love.
to his oldest kid.
the house was full of chaos,
arguments,and fights
i have know idea,
how she made it through a night.
her dad was always drunk,
and mother wouldn't listen.
a few years go by.
and there is still no attention.
Brittany is a teen now,
who's getting out of control
if only she was disaplined
then maybe she would know
she really didn't want
to turn down this path
she never had direction though
from the hauntings of her past.
all she ever wanted,
was to be a normal kid
but instead she kept the hurt,
all bottled in.
what really lies beneath,
i guess she'll only know.
but as she got older,
the more she lost control.
her mothers popping pills,
every single day.
Brittany is just asking,
why does it have to be this way.
Does mom love her any,
does she remember that she's there.
why wont she look her in the eye's,
and just tell her that she cares.
So Brittany only assumes,
it'll be this way till the end
so she starts taking pills,
just trying to fit in.
not very many just a few,
here and there
but now her mom noticed her,
and she acted like she cared.
but did she really care,
or just wanting Brittany's drug.
cuz to my recolection,
there wasn't ever a hug.
now another thing was bothering her,
and it drove her half insane.
so she started taking handfuls
just trying to ease the pain.
she spent her whole life trying,
to gain her mothers love
well it gradually got worse
cuz she started shooting up.
but that's what she did,
cuz she thought it'd be best.
then a year later
it lead to her arrest.
Brittanys etting better now,
with a baby on the way.
she still fights addiction though,
every single day.
often she felt empty,
and even all alone
but how can she feel that now,
with her precious son at home.
That little boys an angel,
he has saved her life
Brittany is happy now,
and you can see it in her eye's.
she has made alot of mistakes,
but now she right on track,
this is her step of moving forward,
and never turning back.
Form:
What Holds More Resplendent Gifts Of The Great And Vast Beyond
Seas of poetry orations, I once took my swims
being strong in spirit, stouter in heart and lithe of limbs
What dread had I of illness or passage of Father Time
when great beauty of verse sang so deep, dancing in its rhyme
Waves of its amber grains, its sandy beach, its great pleasures
stirred heart, pleading soul in immeasurable measures!
If tired, I cast myself upon lands flowing true and fair
seeing magnificence in Earth, Life, Nature- everywhere
Before dawn, before slumber flees this soul's poetry dreams
of paradise shores, poetic thoughts, soft cast golden beams
Winds of change and sublime words to describe and thus to match
castles of hope, beauty's grace and golden eggs- set to hatch!
Fearing not of, high flying fancies and heavenly flights
of lost romantic desires, cast adrift on stormy nights
Or that of abandoned ships left behind in gleaming seas
for poetry gifts its love and blessings of granted pleas
Bountiful harvests of word-seeds so pleasurably sown
are but summer days sending cool winds so gratefully blown!
What holds more resplendent gifts of the great and vast beyond
than poetry, its powers, which poets are so very fond
How its paintings, colors memories one sweetly recalls
of life, living and flames of hot-romance youth often falls
Beyond poetic seas of white-cropped waves and foaming foam
may this old poet's soul, in death, forever gaily roam!
Robert J. Lindley, 12-03-2018
Rhyme, (Inspired verse) (Poetry is Life and Treasure too)
Note- I dedicate this poem to my very good friend Susan Ashley and her wondrously inspiring new poem that inspired me to write this today.
Her new poem titled, The Red Leaf- set me to thinking of its beautiful poetry
and life. And how much poetry means to so many dedicated and in love with poetry poets!
I sat down and this flowed right on out, early this morn.
Note: Use in my poem of "white-cropped" = "white" for good, "cropped" for "appearing unexpectedly".
Thus translated- beyond poetic seas of = unexpectedly good waves and foaming foam.
Definition of “crop up” - English Dictionary
American
English
“crop up” in American English
See all translations
crop up
-pp-
— phrasal verb with crop US ? /kr?p/ verb [ T ] -pp-
?to happen or appear unexpectedly: