Long Talking Poems
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In order for us to redeem the time we need to give God our best
and be willing to do all He asks as proof of where our faith rests
as it's not about how much you've given but has your faith been consistent
in offering all you have to God with a loving persistence
to be thankful when receiving any and all blessings that come from God
and responsible when you get them and holding them in the highest regards
but to offer anything to God that costs you nothing at all
is the difference between true sacrifice and just giving a lip call
for it's not about just talking the talk, it's about being willing to walk the walk
what motivates us? and what is in our hearts?
are two of the things that most concern our Lord God
to be about giving God your best, as He's the only one whom you need to address
there will be times of difficult instructions when you choose to follow His commands
there will be some hard choices to make that you may never come to understand
yes God will test you to determine your faithful resolve
but if you place your trust in Him some mysteries in your life may be solved
and when making a burnt offering to God it needs to be free and whole
coming from one's heart with the surrendering of one's soul
so never offer God anything that costs you nothing to give
remember it's only by His grace and mercy that you even live
Abraham was so faithful to God he was willing to offer his only son
his hope for the future, his heritage, his legacy now under the gun
about to slay his only son until the Angel of God appeared
and told him, "don't touch that child", for we know of God you now fear
he was willing to make the sacrifice and give all that from him God desired
no matter how hard, no matter how difficult to follow the instructions God inspired
hand God your hands and let Him have control
adhere to God's plans and surrender to Him your soul
trusting in what He instructs you to do
believing His blessings will then rain down on you
God has much in store for us when we follow His instructions
and will supply all our needs with His providential productions
His word is the pathway to promise and the roadway to righteousness
His love is the gateway to glory and the highway to holiness
so don't offer God anything that costs you nothing in life
for He made the greatest offer to you with the crucifixion of His son Jesus Christ
All of my children did come home
One at a time, almost like a metronome.
It made me happy, as I felt needed
Yet, when they wanted advice it was never heeded.
I love them all with my entire being,
Yet, not long it felt like they were fleeing.
They are now adults with lives of their own
However, for their past, some refused to let me atone.
My youngest one always acted entitled,
Then when he started working he made me feel vital.
Then one by one, as their lives moved on, it seemed they forgot about me.
Only on holidays or my birthdays did they act around me with glee.
Once festivities were at an end they found a reason to flee
They always seemed to prove my fear that they were there out of duty.
Then my youngest started calling me every day to say I love you
I started thinking I was forgiven for all he had gone through.
I was soon to learn how wrong I was
As he started rumors, making a buzz.
And soon most believed these rumors so heinous
He was showing everyone he was a Janus.
Somehow the others believed him
It left me feeling my future with my kids was grim.
Then one son came to me to talk about my actions
Talking to me and making it look like we were doing transactions.
Yet, he was telling me the things my youngest had said
Then he gave me an ultimatum that led me to feel as if my heart had bled.
The very next day, I woke up to a message from my other mother
Another lie told by my youngest made me feel like he wanted to separate me from his brother.
Now that son and daughter will not returns text or a call
Making me think they believe the lies one and all.
All because I was tired of my youngest using me
Threatening me that in my life he no longer would be.
All because I told him until he could talk to the respect I deserve
Somehow my telling him this must have struck a nerve.
Now he is trying to turn all his siblings against me
Using lies and my fears in order for me to beg and plea.
There are two he cannot turn
Oh, how it must make him burn.
He is not being an adult, but a deceitful child.
I am praying my other two can help me get reconciled
To the two who believed their younger brother
And have them understand what is going on with their mother.
Until that time comes, I sit here and wait
I have to leave this all to God and to fate.
© Kristy De La Keur Scoville
1. THE STORM
COPYRIGHT-POETESS-ANJALI DENANDI,MOM
The storm - from where, it comes
Why - comes, it ? Where, it goes ?
When - it came first ?
Forever it goes and comes
Has it any good effect ? Who knows ?
Destroy ! Just destroy ! Just- ! Must !
The nature becomes calm -
All know - it is the before stage of storm !
Oh! Fear ! The nest thinks - on the tree palm !
The storm has no own form ;
Yet - it has very strong action !
Which can break the mother's emotion !
Lives become hopeless by it !
Forever It can stop the heart beat !
Branches never come back as alive !
The buds and baby-birds never come back !
But the storm returns again and again ...!
Bee-eggs never come back -
But after storm - again bees build the hive !
Though trees feel pain -
Yet - branches , buds come back again !
The new branches , buds , baby-birds , eggs -
Take place on the empty places -
The new nests become happy again !
Cont’d
But no kindness of the storm's invisible legs ,
These always break the sweet dreams !
For these bad works - the storm feels the happiness !
To the storm - who blesses ? ! -
Try - in minds - for own love placings !
Oh ! The storm ! What do you mean ? ! -
Now - find and think about blessings !
Yes ! Yes ! Yes ! - - -
Be the well wisher of the nature ! Please !
Not destroys - creations are the lives - keys !
In front good works - down your knees !
Know - follow - who is your creator ? Who is ---
2. AN AIRY AFTERNOON
COPYRIGHT-POETESS- ANJALI DENANDI,MOM
In an airy afternoon-
I float by my little boat, on river-
Smiles, on sky, the silent moon-
I gift it my loving-look, from very far!
Waves touch my feet, which are naked;
These waves are too busy-
These never come back!
Some very little children, they are naked,
They enjoy around my boat, I see and see---
And eat pop-corn from my jute's sack;
Fishes are seen sometimes on open air-
Again hide in deep water;
My white sail- is in joy of freedom!
I reach very far from my little home!
My pets, my dog and my talking parrot,
Freely walk on my happy boat;
I call,"Hey! Children! Come here!
Yes! Please! Stand on my side;"
They do, like my speech!
Then go and on a big horse, they ride!
Which stands on bank, without speech!
I was a classic 1957 Chevrolet Bel-Air, in mint condition, admiral and white.
My owner had other beautiful, classic cars, like stars sparkling into twilight.
My owner loved his old cars, saying 'they don't make them like they used to;'
And I enjoyed getting out upon the open road, to show him what I could do.
My fellow cars and I saw lots of sunny days, in bliss freedom of the flowers,
Traveling the length and breadth of this land, in the clasp of jeweled hours.
Flighty friends and I recalled 'good old days,' in rosy sunset times of finally,
Laughing and talking our memories in darkness, as moon shone, indefinably.
Forever friends were like feeling family, in the floral days of fuchsia's reign;
When flitting, green butterflies fanned for long, and falcons flew like a train.
I lived in the house of pleasant shadows, which didn't have many windows;
For it was one huge room without a view, like a path without the primrose.
Sparkling summer sauntered in silently, creating such scenes on my street!
Silken clouds roamed, when Sam ran his errands. Traveling was ever a treat.
Neighbors made admiring noises about me, going off on rides in neon night.
We cars were the toast of the neighborhood, nice nostalgia, in a golden light!
Clown orchids had ceased performing, in gone days of purple, beard orchids.
Now their summer relative had the holy ghost, like bliss from many sources.
Mask flowers held beautiful mystery, in alluring hues of pink, cream and red;
Like sweet secrets of moonlit shadows, and violet dreams after going to bed.
Once, Sam and I were cruising Sunset Highway, for it was my turn that day;
While dear friends waited in the cool, quiet of home, for their chance to play.
I felt a sudden impact on my left, and I knew I was hurt! There was damage;
But if not for Sam's expert driving, we might not have been able to manage!
This had happened to me times before. Such is to be expected in a long life.
As ever, friend Sam was my Superman, my mechanic in times of cruel strife.
My convalescence didn't seem so long, as I laughed about old days with pals.
When streets were not very busy, and many listened to front porch musicales.
For we were darling, daring trailblazers, quaint old paving way for all modern,
Leaving lingering feelings of fond nostalgia, like lovely fall leaves which yearn!
We have a tendency to focus on our flaws, despite it being what makes us human; what we despise is what one desires, and what we desire is what someone despises.
I felt this way for years; I still do- the perpetuous feeling that I’m horrendous.
When I look in my mirror, I don’t see my full lips, my long lashes, or my hourglass; I see my short legs, protruding stomach, and my eyebags.
Yet people with those flaws are beautiful- so why am I not?
The answer is that I am; I am beautiful, I am worthy, and I’m not horrendous- I simply haven’t been able to process my worth yet.
It seems that each passing year, I reflect on myself, making those negative remarks, rendering myself as unattractive.
Though, next year, I’ll look back on myself and realize how gorgeous I truly was; though it’s not that simple to prevent those negative feelings from pursuing.
Does beauty even exist, though?
It’s repeatedly changed over time, and it’s quite subjective, which has caused me to believe that true beauty doesn’t exist; it’s simply a perception.
I shouldn’t waste my time trying to ease the perceptions of others; I should follow my own, because short legs, protruding stomachs, and eyebags are beautiful; they’re only viewed in a negative way because society itself is ugly.
If I abide by every standard of others, I’ll only feel regret, for my happiness shall pulverize.
If I create myself to be someone who is healthy and who I love, my happiness shall thrive.
Though these insecurities will persist, even with the most attractive individuals- they’ll always haunt you, whether or not you believe in yourself.
So I dissected myself.
…
Carving every inch of me until my insides are out; but when I do so, my organs look the same as everyone else’s.
Bathing in perplexion until I realized; we’re all the same on the inside- and as I try to stuff my organs back inside of me, I remember what people say-
See, I’ve been told before, just like anyone else, that I’m ugly.
People take advantage of others' sensitivity in order to ease their insecurities; but they’re morons who don’t know what they’re talking about.
They try ridding of their “flaws” by projecting it on others, though those rigid thoughts will always remain inside.
But truth be told, we all have the same interior- and..
You’ll truly be happy if you stop caring about the perceptions of others.
I’m sitting in a dark, nothing but a T.V. on.
I’m watching horror movies, or am I watching paint dry.
I see people, I see faces, but I still can’t shake the feeling I’m being watched.
A scream I hear, I chalk it up to the T.V.
A rat-tat-tat, on the door, only to see no one,
I’m not sure I even moved.
I’ve been sleep deprived for days, but today, on the most holy of holy days,
I cannot sleep.
Today is a day of celebration.
For once, the evil, the dark, the macabre, it’s celebrated.
My interest aren’t looked down on, they are praised.
I think to myself, maybe I should makes something, to commemorate
the occasion.
I step to the kitchen, pull out a knife, and begin carving the first thing in sight.
Tonight, it was a pig.
I think last year it was like a bumble-bee or something, I don’t know, it was making a lot of noise and I just wanted some peace.
Either way, after trimming the fat, I had to clean up a bit.
The phrase, bleeding like a stuck pig, totally true.
Blood got everywhere, this is gonna take so much bleach to clean.
So I shove it in the oven, mouth watering at the thought of the sandwich I’m gonna make when it comes out.
I knew animals fought,
But this one fought like it really didn’t wanna be dinner.
I just hit it with the pumpkin it carried.
A few hours pass, and the pig is done.
I trim off the hair, and then the skin.
I can’t stand the skin, so stretchy and not tasty.
It’s like eating elastic, or a shirt or something stupid like that.
Either way, I peel back the skin-and I indulge myself.
Normally I go for the entrails first, but tonight is special.
I go straight for the brains.
So tasty, with just a tinge or copper, or was it iron, I’m not sure
Either way, it was salty, and metallic, and delicious.
I only treat myself to this kind of meal on the special days of the year,
You know the days I’m talking about
Easter, July 4th, tonight
Those days, they are wonderful
So yeah, the screams were annoying, but they stopped now
All that I hear is some laughing, and my own noise
Tap-tap-tap-squish
Tap-tap-squish-tap
It felt divine.
Then it all ended, someone said my time was up.
That pig’s blood went everywhere
Everywhere. It was intense
After all of that, I’m back in front of the T.V.
I’m really not sure if it was a T.V. or a wall.
The first thing I remember other than that night,
Was asking the guards if I could watch Silence of the Lambs on Halloween.
What Democracy
Democracy, in Britain is nothing but a lie.
From the dictionary the word should be deleted
Whilst democracy’s the slogan that politicians cry
The majority of us feel that we’ve been cheated
With political correctness forced upon us every day
Just in case the casual word may cause offence
If you have a strong opinion be careful what you say
Even though you may be talking perfect sense
When we joined the E.E.U. I’m sure we took the view
It would give a larger market for our trade
Yet now our mighty nation has a legal obligation
To abide by regulations Brussels made
The referendum was denied, the politicians lied
These decisions were decided by the few
It was no doubt understood, M.Ps thought it would be good
With a total disregarding of our view
MP’s pull out all the stops to try to fill our shops
With G.M foods that we don’t want to eat
Whilst cameras check our speed on roads where there’s no need
We’d be better off with coppers on the beat
If when confronted by a crook you land a good right hook
You may think that he deserved it, it’s his fault
When he is on probation you’ll be locked up down the station
To appear before a jury for assault
When travellers leave a mess, you’d be spot on if you guess
That authorities will turn an eye that’s blind
Yet drop a *** end in the street and before it hits your feet
You will get an instant ticket and be fined
If asylums what you seek and English you can’t speak
Benefits are paid for your welfare
But if your British and your old, your property is sold
To pay for any time you are in care
If you chastise your child, because he has run wild
That law will on your collar give a tug
For no matter what you say, do-gooders rule the day
Even though the child may grow into a thug
In the interest of fair play referendums are the way
The majority decide just where we go
We shouldn’t change our laws or take part in futile wars
To massage a political ego
When we are due a big election, parties vie for our affection
Promising the things they have in store
It fair gives us the hump, they should take a running jump
They must realise we’ve heard it all before.
It is hard to understand who governs our fair land
Or who it is that makes up all our rules
Our politicians bore us, or totally ignore us
Democracy in Britain! It’s for fools!!.
.
Form:
Though I'll remember nature's wonders,
sunsets and the breath of spring,
feel the wind blow through my hair
and know the thrill of sunrise cresting.
We see the universe as dancing,
two such different creatures trancing,
we two will never understand
the private notions of the other,
even if we take each other's hand.
Coming close to your destruction
you will see the other side,
who says who has satisfied
requirements for a better life?
Friendship, if we could but find it,
yields the seeds of greater profit,
greater than the seeds of strife.
I now remain just as I ever was.
I shall take my morning walk,
communing with the birds and talking
to myself while reading Kafka,
glancing at the latest headlines.
Dear Stravinsky's 'Rite' is slighted,
(he'll return when ears are righted.)
When I smell a rose I'm prompted
to recall a certain lady, gifted with
a new perception, I must sadly
take exception, for the moment anyway.
The chill of morning, people yawning,
I am tired, the blush of dawning has me
feeling ill at ease, my spirit sags,
I barely reach the second floor.
'When will you return? Is Paris so much more
than you have here?' is my unanswered question.
I drag my heels to breakfast,
listless as a lazy dog, and nibble toast,
my countenance as pallid as a ghost.
A letter would be welcomed.
I shall miss you; there, I've said it.
I am your friend, are you not mine?
Tenuous and strained, two casual
acquaintances who share so little time,
we brush elbows, like strangers passing
on a platform, sharing sidelong glances,
afraid to say hello. I watch you as you go.
Others swore we would be close,
peas in a pod, familiar.
Instead there is no warmth, not yet.
Were you to try we might combine
and nibble toast together, and take
a walk, your hand in mine, and
stammer conversation 'til we knew
there was no reason e'er to rue.
I shall sit with pleasant thoughts of you.
Desperate, I ponder on your death,
scant breath expended twixt the two of us,
and loneliness an ache too harsh to mention,
pen in hand and no one to subscribe.
I'll scarce recall the softness of your skin,
or search your heart to find what lies within.
Should I be bold, or take a gentler path?
encourage you... would I incur your wrath?
If you were to die I'd never know your truth,
and I should lose the vigour of my youth.
Carmena was born in Bolivia
but left that place at seventeen,
after three years of waiting for the chance
to live out an American dream.
When her folks finally got their green cards
they moved up into old Santa Fe,
Carmena finished out her high school years
picking up on all American ways.
She’d known some English before she had come,
but her vocab expanded real quick,
immersed in the tongue every day
her accent softened and became less thick.
This helped a lot in her father’s new shop,
he bought a gas station in a franchise,
Carmena waited on all walks of life,
and the experience opened her eyes.
She’d chat with truckers and travelers
from all over the fifty great states,
lefty Californians, southern good-ol’ boys,
northern Yankees and Texans hauling steaks.
Mid-westerners who were so crazy nice,
New Yorkers who always sounded pissed off,
good-natured rednecks looking for more beer,
even some Yoopers with their funny talk.
Learned more of her new home on that roadside
then she did in any public school,
what would divide and what would unite,
but the one thing that really stuck her as cool
was that Americans, the better ones,
made everything subservient to choice.
Culture and skin, ethnicity and faith,
you had the freedom to ignore and avoid.
These facts struck her as how things should be,
had not every person a claim to these rights?
Here force of law was meant to make free
people to be the driving force in their lives.
And best of all, she heard all sides of things,
good for thought, both the grease and gourmet,
when seven years passed, and she took that oath,
she became American in so many ways.
But then something happened she didn’t expect,
it came about in an election year,
talking with her friend Sue about the vote
she was greeted with anger and fear.
Carmena was confused,"Why the harsh look?
I was just sharing the thoughts on my mind.
I believe in gun rights, and low taxes,
My father’s shop has been having a time—”
Sue interrupted,”Do you hate yourself?!
Don’t you know that you’re a Hispanic?
You’re betraying your own kind, voting this way,
colored people should vote Democratic!”
Carmena was stunned, struggled to reply,
“But I see nothing good in their beliefs.”
Sue just fumed,”You’re a damn race-traitor,
or brain-washed by fascist enemies!”
CONCLUDES IN PART II
You don’t have to say I love you for someone to know
You think someone means it just cause they say it, no
I’ve tried all my life to find out what love means
I thought it was easy, but trust me, it’s a lot harder than it seems
God gave me the gift, he gave me the ability to write
But that’s hard to do when you’ve lost your sight
I’m not talking about my literal eyes
I lost the ability to see a future without my demise
I see a broken man, with one too many bandages
When you pray for strength, God will give you challenges
You have to overcome them in order to become strong
I thought I had strength, but it turns out I was weak all along
I’m nothing without you Lord, and that’s what really scares me
I sacrifice myself for others all the time, cause it’s my own worth that I can’t see
It’s easy to pretend to be something you’ll never be
When I look back at it now, it’s actually pretty funny
I look in the mirror and laugh at myself
Did I think they would remember me as a friend or as something else
Maybe a hero, someone admirable
But then I realize that word is unfathomable
Cause you can never give what you don’t have
Maybe that’s why no one around me can find happiness or a reason to laugh
I’ve been searching for a reason to even exist
I hope someone relates to the heart I put in this
Been alone my whole life, but not by choice
God’s the only one that’s ever heard my true voice
My fiancée left me for a person I called friend
If my life were a book, after that, it’d say The End
Or maybe not cause I’m still here
But if I ever saw her again, I’d say dear
Thank you for teaching me that all I ever wanted was to feel wanted
At first, when I thought of you, I was only haunted
By the thought of never being good enough
3 years together and you broke up with me over Facebook, man that’s tough
But now I can look back and smile cause we just weren’t right for each other
You’re the reason I value the relationships I have more, why I can call someone my brother
So thank you again, cause you taught me how precious it is to find something genuine
Cause that’s what lasts forever, and if it’s fake well forget it then
I don’t have time or room in my life for fake
I need to be more like you God every moment that I wake
You just read a page from my diary
But don’t think with that, you can ever define me