Long Rough road Poems
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Owning the ability to strikingly be on a rough road.
Need the pride to cross the hazardous paddled rowed.
Caesar energetically settled on a terrible decision.
Cross a no-return line for Rome's dictator to goad.
When they had passed the Rubicon's canyon.
Their battle fizzled into cruel oppression.
Out of the red downpour, passing raised its peak.
Where their bodies swam in an ocean of dejection.
The evil has bestowed on humanity a bleak.
They'll be modified into poisoned minds Greek.
Wanting abundance, they are killing their power.
Projecting havoc on Earth and fueling flames of shriek.
Boomed and dabbed same as a colossal breaker.
Evil masters unleashed devastation ashore and water.
Mores perished, and the Earth was scorched.
God has gotten some distance from man's disaster.
Drink and trust your trick isn't called.
You missed the last outing for no end.
Resting is simple presently; you're patching.
This will happen once all perspectives are tired?
Friends, we're in it for the long stretch being.
There is no way toward the rear for returning.
The briny exit is to move straight forward.
It'll drive us anyplace we crave to be moving.
As his army crossed the Rubicon River, the point of no return, Julius Caesar said the famous lines "Alea lacta est," which means "the dice is cast." This poem discusses apocalyptic prophecies when crossing the Rubicon.
Written: October 11, 2021
Pick-A-Title, Vol 26 - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
1. Young, old, healthy, sick such plasticity
the clean or not, such flexibility
your side is always strong in the pull
for once, darkness should smile and overrule
none wants to be a part of this album
inevitable is its growing sum
your statue, no one will build and erect
even the bad hate your path so direct.
Chorus
To some, you snow job
with sweet berries of carelessness
to others you set a trap in a gorse
you’ve added my boy to your tinder
no matter your might
the rough road to your dungeon
will never be tarred.
2. Such innocent face you made a mug shot
against his sacred existence you plot
when a specific borderline door bangs
on everyone connected, sorrow pangs
he struggled hard but you labored the point
bit by bit and slowly, you cracked life’s joint
the market smiles to the sea through the wharf
when taken, life is stunted and a dwarf.
Chorus
To some, you snow job
with sweet berries of carelessness
to others you set a trap in a gorse
you’ve added my boy to your tinder
no matter your might
the rough road to your dungeon
will never be tarred.
3. Why is your cell a permanent station?
Why are you above human reaction?
You trace and follow him with dark time lords
so much pain has always been your known style
sits as the king of the dark for a while
sapping souls you now cruelly mechanize
more you want, your aim is not fertilized.
Chorus
To some, you snow job
with sweet berries of carelessness
to others you set a trap in a gorse
you’ve added my boy to your tinder
no matter your might
the rough road to your dungeon
will never be tarred.
Clad in Kevlar on some forest land leased,
big saw in his hand, engine idling,
gets put to the tree and shatters the peace,
works it just right, and the tree is falling.
Adjusts his visor, then lops off the limbs,
the yarder comes down, cables cinch up tight,
makes sure it is a good distance from him,
then yanks the logs up as if they’re in flight.
A claw grabs them there, loads them in the truck,
down rough road it trundles with its cargo,
off to the mill, so they can make a buck,
on to the next tree the lumberjack goes,
knows if he screws up there’s a chance he dies,
the risk you take working the mountainside.
In the marathon of life, we run with grit,
In the sprint of moments, we dash with grace.
In the relay of generations, we pass the baton.
Our legs pump like pistons, hearts our engines,
Our breath is the fuel that fires our journey.
We run through valleys of shadow and doubt,
We run over hills of triumph and joy,
We run beside rivers of tears and laughter.
Our feet leave imprints on the track of time,
Our sweat waters the flowers of our dreams.
Our second wind always waits in the wings,
Our hidden reserves hover just out of sight,
Our untapped strength lurks beneath the surface.
We inhale determination, exhale fatigue,
We drink from the well of perseverance.
We're strong enough to move mountains,
We're powerful enough to shift paradigms,
We're mighty sufficient to forge our paths.
Our will carves canyons through fields of impossibility,
Our resolve erodes the stones of obstacles.
But gentle enough to embrace butterflies,
But tender enough to nurture hope's delicate seeds,
But soft enough to cushion a fallen comrade.
Our hands, calloused from life's rough road,
Our touch is a balm for the world-weary soul.
We pace ourselves for the long haul,
We stride purposefully towards distant horizons,
We leap over hurdles that bar our way.
Our race is not always to the swift,
Our victory lies in the running itself.
So we lace up our shoes of courage,
So we stretch our muscles of resilience,
So we warm up our joints of adaptability.
Our course may wind, our path may twist,
Our destination: the finish line of our potential.
It’s been a long road
No sense of direction
No ending in sight
A challenge at every junction
But it all leads to the same destination
A steady rough road
No lines painted
No guidance for me to follow
A flow that is always flowing
From corners to long stretches
Riding every bump
Slamming into every apex
Never stopping
Never slowing for a speed bump
Flying everything into the air
Over and over again
Pot holes getting deeper and deeper
Like being punched in the gut
Over and over again
Confusing and mind altering
Tiring every corner of the mind
As the long road continues
Still no end in sight
When I hear Christmas bells jingle,
I recall the days of frisky kiddies.
I wonder: what stifled the giggles,
the white unsoiled dentition,
the charming rosy dimples,
sparkling eyes on snowy cakes,
cold December cozying up the heart.
My ear pricks up at sound of Noel;
nostril sniffs fries off the cuisine,
throat tickles, acts out a gurgle.
Christmas Day is a year in coming;
yet we've not time to ponder how time
nibbles our span, always wishing all
A Happy Christmas and a rough road.
We're happy, lost in celebrations,
the end of which we dare not mull
till we face up to His Coming,
and wonder what a happy Christmas.
Indeed, a Happy Christmas!
© 2016 Celestine S. Ikwuamaesi
man of old
talking to himself
in this run down
watering hole
not crazy
just lonely
turns his head
and him I know
chief of police
when I was young
put me in jail
more than once
now he’s nearing
the setting sun
sitting in a bar
getting drunk
I can't take it
I buy him one
he remembers me
some things I'd done
harmless, really, just
"you were a wild one"
well, I guess I was
I had my run
all my thoughts now
settled on being settled
finish my beer and leave
there's somewhere
I'd rather be than... he
"Aja when all my
dime danc'n is through
I run to you"
quiet endless sea
of gentle femininity
my beautiful tranquility
she soothes and succors
every need
I don't know if she knows
how my heart bleeds
I don't know if she sees
the rough road in me
unwinding
in her soft eyes
just feels
like hard times
are starting to smooth
silky petals unfolding
sweet nectar flowing
she takes me in
somewhere it feels
I've never been
* "Aja" by Walter Carl Becker and Donald Jay Fagen for Steely Dan
Warts and all
She made a mistake
when she kissed a toad
No castle or carriage
She chose a rough road
He had a few warts
he wasn't debonair or cool
Others scoffed and they laughed
But our toad wasn't a fool
For love was a potion
He knew she believed
He tried so very hard
With his heart he achieved
For she was so lovely
So caring and serene
concerned only with his heart
Not the places he'd been
It wasn't very easy
it was in fact it was tough
to be in love with a princess
and have less than enough
But she never complained
Not a whimper or cry
She said he was amazing
He was her special guy
So he worked night and day
from the inside he grew
he became all he could be
the Prince that she knew
Yes they found their happy
Him kind and never a jerk
Love indeed conquers all
with a smidgen of hard work
Together they built castles
chariots and other things
Traveled on positive thoughts
and the gifts that love brings
So if you see a toad smiling
know that that toad is just me
a kiss from my princess
thankfully set me free
Those one way streets, that lead to dead ends
The giving and sacrifice on a way road
The words of help echo from ears that don't listen
Then a rough road turns in one's own life, nothing is there
Where are they? Understanding diminishes in the fog
What one can see, another may not and it is dark
The worry for those who don't worry about themselves
The brick wall of denial, that cannot be broken down
All that wears on the soul, as tiredness creeps in
There must be boundaries and the signs of teamwork,
leading to unity, and peace on two way streets
Caring can be accomplished in a special silence,
with conversation at a different kind of speed
There is only so much care in one's being to release,
before their self becomes completely ignored
Life is a process of learning, building a safe house board by board
Heidi Sands
10/9/24
(C)opyright
At the end of the long walk on the rough road
Under the twilight sky of the setting sun
You might look back at the fading footprints
You will hear they find a frail voice and tell you
To write a eulogy for you before the sun sets.
The footprints will take you along the reversed time
You will search within the archive life has made
Find among many other footprints already erased
Some indelibly preserved in a remote corner
That would configure you in their own manner
As a responsible son who imbibed the life’s values
A loving husband who shared everything life gave
A caring father who showed the children dreams
A decent human being who found good in everything
An optimist who would live content in residual time.
Eulogy is not a statement of self proclamation
But a commitment of the uncaving conviction
That reflects what you tried and wanted to be
For others to validate when you won’t be.
June 26, 2019