Long Shea Poems
Long Shea Poems. Below are the most popular long Shea by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Shea poems by poem length and keyword.
Motherland
Journeying into the unknown
Journeying into a deep soil
Into a trunk, which has been uprooted and stripped of its branches
Removed from its natural soil and thrust in cold and bitter climate
Of an unknown land
Motherland
We have come
We have survived
We have come to embrace our motherland
Motherland
Forgive me if I don’t understand
Nor speak my mother tongue
For we have been away for too long
Forgive me if I don’t answer when you hail at my name
For the name mista smith gave me
Has a different tone, an unfamiliar beat
To the name you persistently call me with
Like a frightened mother who screams for her lost child
And only to hear the echoes of her own voice
We were stolen
Captured like hunted antelopes
Only this hunter had no love
We were herded of onto a boat
And shipped of to an unknown destination
A land that had no sunshine
A climate that was so cold it cracked my soft skin
And offered no shea butter to grease my cracked wounds
Motherland
Forgive us if we do not bear our tribal marks
Forgive me if my hips do not move ceremoniously to the drumbeat
For I’m of mixed breed
Part British and Part Spanish
I am a descendant of a slave girl
A property that mista smith could enjoy a t his own convenience
A property that he could explore
Benefits of hips, and my upright breast
And the rhythmic of my waist-beads
Motherland
RAPE
I heard you cry out
RAPE
I cried back
Motherland
I was your untouched child
But I became part of mista smith property
Part of his wealth and livestock
And a property cannot be raped
Motherland
Hush, do not weep
For we have survived, we have journeyed home
Form:
(In 1964, Paul McCartney was staying at
57, Wimpole Street, the home of Jane Asher.
McCartney was allowed to use the basement
for writing (Margaret Asher, mother of Jane,
was a professor of music, and the room was
set up for rehearsal). He announced his
engagement to Jane on Christmas Day 1967,
but by then he had already been seeing Linda
Eastman for nine months. When Jane left for a
vacation in the summer of 1968, Paul invited
yet another woman to move into his home.
When Asher returned unexpectedly and found
McCartney and the woman in bed, the relationship
came to an abrupt end. Perhaps McCartney did it
to extricate himself from the Asher engagement.)
Yesterday
When I was younger,
so much younger than today,
I once had a girl
(it was the year before Shea).
She showed me her room:
“Isn’t it good?
Norwegian wood.”
She asked me to stay
and said I could sit anywhere,
so I went to the basement –
the piano was down there.
“I’ll tell you something
I think you’ll understand,”
said my best friend John:
“You’re gonna lose that girl.
It won’t be long.”
I’ve lost her now for sure.
I won’t see her no more.
But I couldn’t use a Sloane,
so why on earth should I moan?
I crawled off to sleep in the bath.
I went into a dream
of people and things
that went before …
I think I overstayed,
but that was yesterday.
I’ll buy you a diamond ring, my friend,
If it makes you feel alright
But I can’t help but think, my friend,
it’s been a hard day’s night.
The girl that’s driving me mad
is going away:
I’ll get my claws on Clancy
without the least delay.
You call it treason
when you come poking about,
but I’ve got a good reason
for taking the easy way out.
Two National League teams departed New York City
when the Dodgers and Giants left the vicinity.
Both teams went to California out on the West Coast.
The Big Apple was without a National League host.
An expansion four years later brought another team.
Newspaper editor Joan Payson fulfilled a dream.
Again, New Yorkers could see a National League game.
A new team came to town, and the “Mets” was the team’s name.
With uniforms of Giants orange and Dodgers blue,
they took the Polo Grounds field in 1962.
Many New York baseball fans had shown their loyalty
despite the Mets’ new record for mediocrity.
Winning only forty games and finishing dead last,
the Mets were able to expunge the ghosts from the past.
Again having a team in each league was a reason
for joy and happiness in New York that first season.
They moved to Shea Stadium in 1964.
However, their losing ways continued a bit more.
The Mets’ performance each season did not look too fine.
They lost for seven straight years to 1969.
However, all the Mets fans would get a big surprise.
The team played quite well. The fans could not believe their eyes!
Just past mid-season, they were standing in second place.
The Mets won games, and were moving at a torrid pace.
They soon caught and passed the first-place team from Chicago.
The Mets stayed in first place with just a few weeks to go.
Their pitching staff had Tom Seaver and Jerry Koosman,
they also had Gary Gentry and Nolan Ryan.
The Mets best hitters, Cleon Jones and Tommie Agee,
were joined by Ed Charles, Donn Clendenon, and Art Shamsky.
Together, they all formed a winning combination.
A pennant and World Series win brought more elation!
Dua
You know my needs, wants, and desires way better than I could possibly articulate. Yet, I feel like being expressive on this platform, for the sake of the audience.
Please remove the veil between she and I, as I am more than “finally ready” for her; I’m in desperate need. My right side is cold these days. The warrior spirit in me isn’t enough anymore. Spring and summer has come and gone, and my autumn has arrived, with bone scraping breezes.
Please make her excessively clingy, in a way that would have driven the immature version of me completely mad. I need that now. I need her face—a lot. I need her to block my path, arresting me, until she gets her kiss, that energy exchange on two sets of lips. I need her to text me multiple times per day, just to get on my nerves—to make me feel like she has me on her mind.
I need her to understand that my size and strength exist to protect a very vulnerable nerd, conditioned early on by an environment of scorn. That way she’ll understand why this big arm pulls her in tight every time an ambulance rolls by at night.
You know I need contact. Please make her okay with that. It’s even better if she demands it, making me beg for a break. May our weekends at home feature gliding palms, and shiny skin from cocoa and Shea, glowing under flickering candles.
Can she be a lover of books—knowledge—rhetoric—history? I would love lively exchanges on subjects of our history.
I know I am asking a lot, for a man with no bag, overspilling with gold shilling. Allah, I wouldn’t dare try to cross her up, if that’s on her list. Allah if I have value please reveal it to her, and assign us “to be”.
you used to whisper to me
in stoop slang and bachata basslines,
kiss my cheek with corner store breath -
hot beef patties, papitas, a dollar Arizona.
you’d walk me past block parties
where the speakers cracked from joy,
and the aunties sang louder than the music.
your hands were rough -
but they knew my curves,
my story,
my roots.
but now,
your voice got quieter.
real estate signs stutter
where murals used to speak.
you wear button-ups now — ironed crisp,
smell like rosemary and rent hikes.
your laugh don’t echo
off bricks no more.
it gets lost
somewhere between the wine bar
and that dog park
you said wasn’t for us,
but now you walk through like you forgot.
when did you stop calling me “mami”?
start saying “ma’am”?
when did you trade timbs for toms,
cafecito for cold brew,
“you good?”
for
“you’re trespassing”?
i loved you when you were loud,
when you cursed and prayed in the same breath,
when your shoes had scuffs
and your hair still smelled like shea butter and sweat.
now you slicked it back — forgetful.
i see you in Whole Foods windows
with your new girls —
their yoga mats, their green juices,
their way of looking at me
like i don’t belong
in the place that built me.
you changed, Harlem,
and not in the way lovers grow —
but in the way dreams get flipped for profit.
still,
i walk your blocks like a jilted bride,
tracing memories
where laundromats used to hum
and grandma's gospel broke morning silence.
you once held me
like a secret.
now
you just walk by.
Let Not Your Soul Be Burdened
The soul is where the mind doth dwell,
Always somewhere
it's never in limbo -
Your soul is filled, never void.
So, think of life abundantly;
“May I enjoy you today"?
So, that you may live life rich and full,
Think of what good you can do for self
And be not dull. Think well of good health.
"May I enjoy you today"
For frogs, will croak and crickets
will chirp with the birds.
Your soul is wherever your mind doth dwell;
All good, or all bad. All in or All out.
"May I enjoy your company today"
Think of water when thirsty-
Think of Shea - Butter and oil
When your gears need oiling.
Life is a living well – live it well
Draw from your wealth of friends.
"Hopewell, you’ll enjoy my presence today"
Think of living life well, rebuke those
Who try to make life a living hell?
Practice the Art that has been bestowed
And do it well. Think of where
you want your soul to dwell.
"May I laugh with you today"
Speak gratuitously of life: Leave croaking to the frogs.
Allow Birds and crickets to their jobs.
Think of life fondly. As death, will speak for itself!
"May we celebrate life today"
Death is not a consequence, it is inevitable...
So, let not your heart be consumed of it
Be about the business of thinking life better
And living each day as it comes
Did we create fond memories today?
===================
Love they said was a music and you were its composer
I remember you and all I ever knew was nothing but you
I lost my heart when our eyes met and since then I became your prisoner
entangled between the tentacles of your heart gasping for breath
I ran for you, panting from the long distance created by you
Your stares were menacing, especially when our love went dry
I listened to the tunes you plucked when you play
Your e-chord signified evil
and the d-chord meant you were its devil
One moment I was lost in your arms breathing the Shea butter that scented your skin
The other moment I was drowned in my tears
Fears of the unknown overcame me
My world tore apart, I was all but a broken image crying to be mended.
On my bed I heard you sing nostalgic melodies
Melodies played on our first date, when love was pure and gold
When the crickets chirped our hymns as we listened beneath the starry nights
When our hands were warmers and not weapons
Melodies of the nightingale that perched on our tree beneath your window
And the shouts of our neighbors when we danced to our favorite songs on sundays
Now, those memories are drowned in the oceans
Drowned by our anger and betrayal
By the gist and gossips we heeded to
So,
I lay in my bed hoping that the rising tide will bring us back
Destiny conspired and planned our intersection
So she came my way
And I crossed her path
Spontaneous love
Not hastened, not rushed
Her name, Peace
My sweet angel.
Down the “apian” way we walked the walk and did the talk.
The orchard sang melodious tunes to our hearts
And that glitter in her eyes that left me numb
Her glistening skin like an angel and
her mellow voice, soothing like shea in harmattan,
I had found the love of my life
Love baked in the sands of Keta
Sedimented by layers of sweetness
Today I sit along the streets of Keta
Hoping the tides will rise and take me to Tsiefe
My soul wanders in search of Peace
Alas! Life holds no substance for me
I grieve for every day of my life because there is no one like her
Memories of our encounter embrace my mind,
There I stood showing a glimpse of my white teeth
She looked into my warm smile
And saw the cold advantages
I was a fool for her love
Blinded by beauty I listened to the lies
that boldly walked out of her mouth
The inexperience of my youth got the better part of me
Yet I could not stop that feeling
Especially when I thought it was love
But my love was blind
And I could not see the pretty little follies
Loving you was pain I could not excuse
But of all pains, the greatest pain was to love,
but love you in vain.
New York baseball fans had to face reality.
Coast to coast travel attained practicality.
Jet planes carried us west within a day.
As a result, the Giants and Dodgers both went away.
The Giants headed for San Francisco, and the Dodgers to LA.
A third major league was proposed by William Shea.
Because he could not get another team to relocate,
an entire new league was what he and others would formulate.
The Continental League was the result of ambitious dreams.
The league was to consist of eight different teams.
Cities represented were New York, Houston, and Minneapolis.
Others were Atlanta, Buffalo, Toronto, Denver, and Dallas.
An unprecedented huge undertaking had begun.
The teams were to begin playing in 1961.
This action was disfavored by the Major Leagues of Baseball.
Crucial moves had to be executed to stop it all.
Expansion plans by the National and American Leagues were announced.
As a result, the proposed Continental League was trounced.
However, William Shea and others got an expansion team.
The formation of the New York Mets fulfilled a dream.
Therefore, the Continental League ceased before pitching their first ball.
Expansion to new cities came because of it all.
Information obtained from wikipedia.org online encyclopedia.
Soul knowledge grown thru emotional searches
Eclipses vain ego perches attempts to take charge.
Living should be large from our soul’s core will,
Feeling joy thrill and pain spill, gilds soul’s sheaf.
Allow belief to trigger your spiritual agenda.
Cite déjà vu’s antenna as your eternal soul almanac
To map your experiences predetermined tract.
Ultimate feeling feedback pens your spiritual rondeau
And develops its flow to your truth knowledge area.
Live as the God of your criteria does to you reveal.
Increase your understanding, lest a dealing shanghai
Zealot such as fear, ego or greed tries to take your pizazz,
And stinking thinking unrhymes your soul’s stanza.
Take time to contemplate coolly and truly think about
Iambic thought perfection to sprout your spiritual illuminati.
Oblige the soul-memo heavenly angels constantly demo,
Nudging the human faithful to spirit freedom in Eden.
... CayCay Jennings
November 10, 2016