Long Riverside Poems
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Written: November 07, 2023
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Am I condoning a state of affluence?
In recent desultory decadence
Have I drawn a swan dive of choice?
Don't you hear your mom clamoring?
Don't you grasp her voice?
Backward between and beyond riverstone?
Holler—herald hidden phylum, hunt voice
of failed fulfillments
The hind hock hoof is hermitic.
With any accismus to anthropomorphize beasts
Winter wolf moon wakes up her litter
for sustenance, the man in me would slaughter
the wolf.
Tracks—that permeate darkness
their compulsory murder. Everyone needs
a meal
drifted and whistled from hair to heel,
things outside seem odd, ghostly, surreal.
Amid snow—hooves slowed to soak in
across the waves—why my soul seeped
a sailor has been seen dozing off
whilst the riverside weeps
trust—my footprints feature
fear—cynicism.
In the comfort of my boat…as on the water I did float
under a cloud filled sapphire sky
From my spot upon the river wide…up ahead along the riverside
one particular tree captured my eye.
I have always been enthralled…how the trees grow straight and tall
How together they create such a beautiful sight
but something was awry…and the tree that caught my eye
was not straight…but leaning to the right.
Yet rooted to the land…this tree continued to look grand
even leaning as it did it still stood tall
For I am must now report…two trees were offering support
using their branches they would not let him fall.
The first tree did astound…it was lying on the ground
and caught the falling tree to help it stop
The second tree still standing with it’s open arms expanding
caught the falling tree nearer to its top.
And I had to smile at the sight…how nature does things right
how she uses all she has to save a tree
And the way, like birds of a feather, trees will work together
is a wonderful and beautiful sight to see.
And I thought we can learn a lot…all that nature knows and taught
for as to life…she seems to hold the keys
For wouldn’t it be grand….if one day we came to understand
How trees stand taller when they stand with other trees
Scull in the waters under the sun’s incandescence.
Go along with the wind’s rhythm and my heart’s cadence.
Sail far until orange firmaments paint you into black.
Know where you are heading – don’t you ever come back.
If someone finds you alone in the riverside floating,
You’ve got the opportunity to tell my words that are worth-sharing…
“You’re special and worth to be loved.
You’re more than any riches; don’t think you're unloved.
You’ve got a million reasons to feel joy in your heart.
Your stories are fascinating and they’re worthy to impart.
Don’t let your grief and hatred live in you forever.
Soon you’ll flourish and be greater than ever.
This universal love shall be passed like an endless ripple
It should last to save one or triple.”
January 8, 2021
The Last Love Letter Contest
African Child
Blessed beyond bounties and boundaries,
By the love of Mama Nature,
Drinking from her nursing breasts,
Like a drunkard.
I rested on sapphire and emerald,
Dug from the pit of Paradise.
The golden noon dazzled my sight
Beneath a smiling sun.
I strolled along the riverside,
Watching maidens mirror the lushness of mermaids.
Casting my hook,
Trying to catch a fish.
The first gunshot demystified my godliness,
From the barrels of Western scavengers
Who scattered our peace
With acid from their brazen mouths.
I am not corrosive,
As some of you believe.
I rose from the charred remains
Of Nebuchadnezzar's flames.
It has been two thousand brutal years.You have gone too far
Without tasting the human in me.
Till we meet again in solemn silence,
I will tell you
How forgiving I am.
~ Uche Chidozie Okorie
Emptiness – I have known you perhaps since infancy
when I cried so incessantly when my parents put me down to sleep.
Was it maybe because I was fearful that some void would swallow me up
were I to close my eyes? My parents followed the doctor’s advice and let me
scream it out for a few nights. Eventually I succumbed to early bedtime.
Emptiness – I recall you as I sat forlornly in the bus which picked me up
from my grandparents’ yellow farm house out in the country, the place
my mother returned to with me and my three sisters when she left my father.
I remember that emptiness as I sat alone on that bus, and also as I did
whatever it was I did in my strange little kindergarten class until my mother
moved us to a nearby city where we walked everywhere we went,
and where we lived on welfare cheese, macaroni, milk and peanut butter.
Always I’d had my sisters to play with me, so why did emptiness envelop me
on those days I swung so high in the air at the Riverside Park, swinging away
feeling eluded by the purpose of life, and feeling like something was missing?
I’d go to church, hear the sermons and the hymns. They did not phase me.
Oh, here come the Miller Girls, the folks there probably whispered,
eyeing our shabby dresses. Because we had no car, church members
would come to get us. I felt a little like a burden at those times, and I recall
looking forward to those few times my father came from his state so far away
to visit me and my sisters. But emptiness would visit me in those times.
He was mentally ill after all, but a girl could always dream . . .
Very soon my mother remarried. Our family’s size greatly increased
along with chaos, but also along with very great times! I learned so much.
I searched for and found friends. The emptiness I’d grown so familiar with
grew smaller and smaller, yet sometimes, even now - decades later -
emptiness drops by, plops itself down and simply stares me in the face.
Feb. 12, 2023
Music echoes through the halls,
climbing stairs, and gilded walls.
Our lovely lass discreetly swoons.
With longing eyes, she scans the room.
Young ladies dressed, in gowns, divine,
are coifed, and rouged and powdered fine.
Their dancing partners, starched, refined,
drink them in like precious wine.
A rhythm, now, she can't define,
has moved her toes in quarter time.
With her laced up shoes, she taps the floor
to violins, plucked strings, and chords
This debutant, is a lonely child
who spent her days by the river side.
Ann is a budding rose among the wild.
in a ballroom filled with bright bouquets
of hopeful, blooms, in vast array.
There is giggled laughter, beguiling grins,
and we hear the Danube waltz, play again.
Politely, polished, bright young men
gather flowers, twirling them
until their skirts sail with the wind.
She blushes, rouged, with charm, beguiling,
and hopes for partners, dashing, smiling.
She flutters a fan to cool her face
and closes eyes, a song embraced.
She sits awhile, with private dreams
She keeps her secret dream alive
Abides her time, and thinks it seems
a fantasy, she has contrived.
But then, she feels his gentle tap
He stands before her very eyes
and takes her hand, now from her lap
Deep in her magic dreamer's trance
Ann wakes, to look upon the prince
Who glides away with her upon
The ballroom floor, ......where they are one,
until the strike of midnight comes
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Fairytale Contest: Sponsor Alexis Y
Hometown: Riverside
Middle name: Ann
Riverside,
I was wonder how anglers do sleep on sandy at the riverside
One time in my life, I try when I was ten year as trying it
At my best though it is was not easily
I slept while my hands are on my ears
I fear sand entering into my ears as I hear, people whispering to each other ears
Riverside,
It is the best place for water body creatures
It is because of its environment
It makes them to run fast and laid eggs and bury them
Yes, it is on the sand is where water creatures like crocodile
They laid their
Riverside
It is where boys and girls can see each other’s
In our riverside no mixing when playing crocodile play
For that game is for boys but not girls
Only boys knew the best part of it but girls
Can be enjoy speed that boys use
Riverside
It is the best to expose you for other
I see the brave do
But coward people fear to join groups
I learn good thing on it as we end up enjoying the sunshine
Riverside
At winter, we all need sunshine and the sun make us to roasted like smoke fish
It is why we are darken in our skins
We get our darkness at the riverside
Because it is dark and that is why sings songs
Yes, to let darkness go and we remain as black like black sea
Snapshots
Sitting by calm riverside, adjusting the aperture,
As mind attests the perfect landscape to capture;
Taking few small leaps, not to leave a nuance,
He is fast ready to click a string in temerity;
Be it anything, a marrow or a barren,
His shoots whisper countless historic tales;
A flower's subtle bloom, or an old man's humility,
Nothing escapes his intense proclivity;
He awes by seizing sea's fierce turbulence,
Butterfly's flutter, through hues of sunlight;
Images of rivulets dancing to nature's melodic raga,
These picturesque snapshots will sing the saga !
Written Nov 1, 2018
For "Eight word challenge 9- poetry contest"
Sponsor- John Hamilton
Autumn has dressed up in pretty auburn
by pulling all the lifeless leaves
off the dormant, cold trees;
and every bird, that once thrilled everyone's heart,
has glanced upon this scenery and sadly gone south,
and I like them...I dream of a spring in green!
Under these swift feet the dry leaves of November crack,
and my path feels hard and is visible no more;
here and there, I trip on a hidden stone
which slows me down as a reminder of the winter's whack...
when heavy snowfalls and violent storms will batter this paradise,
but who else will call upon imagination and fantasize?
Days and months I'll check off my calendar:
December with its first snowflakes and ice...
gleaming on my soft and distant meadow;
January covering everything with soft snow,
February with its constant gelid skies,
and March bringing back the songbirds to my door!
Unmerciful winter, don't let this aloneness curb my freedom,
once in a while entice it with the spurious presence of sunshine...
not disobliging my wishes and turning me into a butterfly:
to revive a vision of the of bluest skies where clouds roam;
by a riverside I will lay in comfort...glazing its flow,
until this newly found joy will end any thought of sorrow!
Copyright 2008 by Andrew Crisci
1907, Saw the begining of forthcoming,Glasgow`s Sir.Willam Arroleco`s company
were credited, structural errecting of twas to be,Middlesbrough`s emblem,The
Transporter Bridge.Replacing the steam ferry,shuttling The River Tees.
Opening ceremony being October 17, 1911. Prince Arthur of Connaught, the chosen.
a delightful heartwarming structure,spanning The Tees 259 metres,an amazing view
from a height of 49 of the same.
An achievement,in itself as second largest of it`s kind.
World war 2,a bomb caused minimal but,effective damage.Gondalar hanging
midrift,waters lashing.
Folk crossing the high walk path, to reach Port Clarence,vice versa.
However,1933. A phenominal recognition, recieved highest honours. Institute of
Mechanical Engineers shone. A true sense of pride for Tessiders,alike.
Epic television and films alike, attracted our humble creation.Boasting Billy Elliott to
Spender and Aufweidersein pet.Dramatics and comedy on a worldwide wide stage.
Walking the steps to windy heights.Views a pleasure for the eye,the distance,Eston
Hills to Roseberry Topping.Foregrond,steelworks, hotels,dwellings,but standing like
a Mecca Shrine,The Riverside Stadium.( Our local football stadium )
The blue lights,reflecting every gurder every beam,at night
coming home is such a heart warming sight.
To commemerate the 100 years centenary of, THE TRANSPORTER BRIDGE.
.