Long Tearing down Poems
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I cannot recall how he came in.
A stranger no doubt he was;dwelling with us.
Who invited him in? Was it you or I?
Yet he made his way in, quietly persistent.
Until we got used to his fleeting presence.
Then gradually he took up more space.
He got bolder tearing down memories.
Wiping out traditions that existed before him.
I told you to let him go.
For I found his presence unbearable.
It was uncomfortable that he lingered ever close..
As if beckoning to be summoned even closer..
I remember the loudness and turmoil that raged in my head.
I remember the memories we started to forget,
As he stripped us bare, he stamped on his marks.
Now his baggage has increased.
And so has his power over us.
For he no longer sits waiting in a corner.
Nor does he hover around waiting to be summoned.
Now he glides around like a landlord.
He has moved his relatives in too.
Each one of them rapidly cloning
And colonizing a prior loved spot.
Now the SILENCE is tangible and is so craved.
The sounds of his presence have become familiar.
Even missed whenever he steps away!
Now my SILENCE has a name!
A name that quiets down the same storm he evokes.
Now there is an attachment so deep, almost familial .
His presence NOW surely feels like HOME .
*One very early Christmas morning long ago and far away, I was hard(ly) at work again. In the spirit of the season, and being a child again, I offer a poem I wrote as a tribute to Dr. Seuss:
What walks through the forest,
And shakes all the trees?
Is it a fat tourist,
With very large feet?
Who don’t we see much,
That hides among the trees?
Could it be Sasquatch,
With his big hairy feet?
Perhaps it’s a giant,
I anticipated.
Or it could be an elephant,
Who just flatulated?
I walked through the woodland,
And came to a clearing.
I saw it was man,
It’s what I’d been fearing.
With his dirty machines,
That were chopping up wood.
They were tearing down trees,
Anyway that they could.
Right in the middle,
Of this terrible scene,
There stood someone little,
Rather hairy and green.
I thought, could it be,
That my screws have come loose?
Because what I saw,
Was right out of Dr. Seuss!
“No more saws, no more axe”,
“No more killing then please!”
Cried out the Lorax,
“I speak for the trees!”
And just like before,
He warned man of the mess.
The “Oncelers” chose to ignore,
In the name of progress.
All for the sake of greed,
Man and his loyal machines,
Kept on making more “Thneeds”,
And cutting down trees.
Not one man gave a care,
As they felled all the trees.
They smogged up the air,
And clogged up the streams.
Just once more,
Spoke the Lorax,
“It would not be as before”,
“If you had done as I asked.”
“Hope is what man needs.”
“That’s all of what’s left to him now.”
“You must plant the seeds,”
“Somewhere and somehow.”
“The trees will come back tall and green.”
“There will be a rebirth.”
“Air and water will again be clean.”
“Together we can save the Earth!”
The Earth is our Mother,
She gives life to us.
We must take care of her,
Or with her turn to dust.
From land to seas,
Never be lax.
Speak for the trees!
Just like the Lorax.
Inspired by, and based on a character created by Theodore Geisel, AKA “Dr. Seuss”.
you used your charm
one daughter
of satan
in slithering
sins of the flesh
eating into the heart
burning down castles
in black burning
sulphur dragon breath
lusts the demon of love
tearing down foundations
lusting broken in heart
temptation comes
her craving darkness
a joker
chopping axe like
in black words
muttered in biting
upon the softest apple
sweet suffering poison
injected into the core
loveless in the heart
from the darkest
of darkest dungeons
you hail the serpent
of all deceivers
wicked in your ways
to see your face
two faced meddusa
a banshee wails
crying cold
as ice feelings
sends shivers
to the very soul
rattling to the very bones
sinking into a dark
drowning feeling
black velvet abyss
the eyes eating
into the light
clouds falling poisonous
black pain
in agony you smile
thundering roars in hell
the devil's angel
weeping in the valley
among'st the dead
void of good
lightning shines reality
as the black clouds raise
tears from the heavens fall
breaks the chains
heavenly upon the ground
love remains in splashes
black pear droplets
of hurt upon the ground
in despair
a cat o nine tails
lashing
cutting strips
stripping pieces
in the deepest void
wrenching within
its grasp
like the great boa
a serpent of lust
weighs heavy
upon the shoulders
crushing gasps
squeezing the life
of the heart
lust played the field
in a foolish game
destroying heaven's garden
breathing hell
i burdened the cost
cutting the black heart
from out of me
alone colours
burning in the deepest
cast were light
was forsaken
until the sword of truth
flashed in hell
worn down
i saw you lust
the face of nightmares
as the soul weep
the blood
of the innocence
i see the light
the blood boils
spilled in darkness
battled scared
love shines
the mask
uncovered
the demon
you held
within
a black heart
~ ~ ~ ~
Like an ache, in the startled breath
A moment, a prayer, a regret
Can I see beyond the word’s quiet death?
Wisdoms taught by souls who beget…
Griefs fallen on hearts who believe
Silence fills the night, stars and moon
Writing the melancholy, as I grieve
Nothing is as it was, but oh so soon…
The words pour from the soul, a story
Songs in rhythms of light,
It’s never the past, despite its glory
Who reveals the memories we fight
Will the tales still our quiet verses
Visions, images so often flawed
All of those shadows the dream curses
Tearing down walls, a heart thawed…
By the silence beneath a tender gaze
The chorus a poet bleeds,
On the wings of a spirit caught up in praise
Risking those memories poetry breeds
Displayed on the surface of each rhyme
There are whispers of grace, so bold
Rising in the spirit, tearstains climb
Into the music of a heart made of gold
A sonnet, a couplet, whatever ode
Glistening slivers of lights who shine
It’s to Our Creator, all poetry is owed
He’s brought our souls a love so very fine
In the succulent music of each poem
Are notes of a song, a psalm, a prayer
We all can give praise, as just below Him
Are splatters of insight, our words will bare
Naked colors, still murmurs of life
Seeking to silence the dark dread
Felt by the troubled, all that strife
Lost amid the words a poet said
As a weak heart promises to be brave
Amid the verse, there are visions
Lovely words, ventures a heart must save
Even before the poet makes revisions
Write on, precious soul, write it down
Tell the world what is felt, what is felt
Are feelings on light in which we drown
If we remember any heart can melt…
When given their answers through words
Brought to life by a spirit, understood
Thoughts and feelings, gentle as songbirds
Every poem read feels as it should…
Every poem is felt, and it feels so good!!!
HERO DAY
From the depths of history, their stories unfold,
Of black men and women with spirits untold,
In defiance of chains, they rose above,
Their hearts relentless, fueled by love.
African kings and queens, proud and revered,
Adorned with grace, their power endeared,
Leading their people, with wisdom profound,
In the face of oppression, their courage resound.
Through the darkness of the Middle Passage,
They carried hope amidst a barbaric rampage,
Spirits unbowed, though shackled in chains,
They saw the light, as liberation rains.¹²
From Harriet Tubman's guiding light,
To Frederick Douglas, marinating insight,
They fought for justice, their souls ablaze,
Braving dangers, in emancipation's maze.
The echoes of Sojourner's words ring true,
"Am I not a human, deserving rights too?"
Disrupting conventions, they questioned it all,
Their voice a clarion, tearing down walls.²°
Astride the saddle, majestic and strong,
Buffalo Soldiers, their honour belongs,
Protecting the frontier with unyielding might,
They battled adversity and darkness took flight.
In Montgomery, a humble seamstress arose,
Rosa Parks, unwavering, her bravery shows,
With courage on her side, she took her stand,
Reclaiming her dignity, a symbol in her hand.
Martin Luther King Jr., a visionary light,
His dream etched in hearts, day and night,³°
With words as his weapon, love as his shield,
He shattered barriers, equality revealed.
So, let us pay homage to the valiant hearts,
Who bridged the bondage and mount heights
Their heroics celebrated, their stories embraced,
In their triumphs, the spirit of freedom is traced.
"Hero Day" we name it, with honor and cheer,
A dedication to the heroes, far and near,
For their bravery, their triumphs we hail,
In unity, their legacy shall forever prevail.4°
Dedicated to: African-Americans and Africans in diaspora
VICK MANUEL POETRY {VMP}
Copyright ©? November 2023.
The new education system
In truth it’s meant to twist ‘em
Into something that
A child ain’t meant to be
It steals their precious playtime
Corrupts their daily timeline
It heralds a New World Order
Insidiously
It takes more, than just one man
In their evil global plan
To change the hearts
And minds of every nation
Go steal their freedom surely
Go get them nice and early
Warm their hearts with
Your home-grown indoctrination
Must we first lose our Jesus Christ
For to herald their new Zeitgeist
By the tearing down
Of each religious border
When the zeitgeist that is prevalent
Is intent on being malevolent
Then firstly friend
Comes chaos out of order
The church it changes readily
A Dove becomes a Vulture
A wolf within sheeps clothing
Finds an ease, in changing culture
Evolved from one-time pagan ways
Our celebrated Holy Days
Iniquitous intent
About to rupture
The Babylonian Talmud
Infused the Sons of Noah
In righteousness find wickedness
From the Qur’an to the Torah
Fraternities and brotherhoods
And secretive societies
Beheadings, drownings, trial by fire
Faiths forced, within their pieties
Gods world, bent to their intention
Bush, signs in Laws of Noahide
Martial Law on the horizon
Stones of Georgia, genocide
A New World Order looms
No empathy nor pathos
One World Religion emanates
An Order out of Chaos
For every relationship
we can rediscover
a season
of increase
and tipping point
toward decrease.
For every correlation,
positively resonant
and negatively dissonant,
a regenerative
becoming degenerative season
for building up and out
and tearing down and in
compassion
compulsion
recreation
tipping toward
dispassion
revulsion
decay
Like passionate summer powers
Falling toward
diminished winter light
dipolar co-arising
hope for continuous
contiguous fresh spring
cooperating green,
morning blue
yet warmer
cumulating skies
repredicting summer's
fertile
climax
passions
Re-enlisted
in four fractal
reasoned seasons
for redeveloping Earth justice
and restoring Tribal peace
Turning traumatic weaponed
retributive discommunications
into therapeutic wellness tooled
restorative re-communionations.
Donald Duck Chancellor of this fowl kingdom
wearing an upside down smile's raging hypocrite backwards
this deranged Duck twitters to and fro as his unhinged subjects
unwittingly applaud him onto a victory march that never appears equal
except in his alternate universe of oneness
Calamity Jane perchance is on the horizon
while war looms close by this feathers pride himself
on his big show asking for a mirror to check his orange glow
he jokes and preens fading in and out so it would seem logical
tearing down all good morals he alienates with his constant magic escapades
Sleight of hand reflections move
with this fake news it gets exposed
the big top rotates under an eclipsed lie
fire breathing condemning all those against his way
entering the arena for the next late show
Now Big Bird has been caught fibbing
just when they thought everyone was safe
getting off the band wagon or so to speak
Just signing the pact with her feathered friend
letting on they are getting on so well for the world to see buddies
Almost joined at the hip like in their loyalty reigning over truth
in this ungodly circus of the vainest sort
Where the funfair clowns abound
under fabrications an orangutan watches on
beating his chest in an ape like manner and solid hands
he has no way to express words
puffing and panting swaggers
living under thee umbrella protected from the truth’s influence
Alvin and his chipmunks sing the national anthem
while the confederate flag waves goodbye over democracy
begins the three little pigs stages as they enter the building
their houses from clay flamed with truth
ransomed for vanities sake no good ending can come
Earthquakes separate the earth
floods come with grave disaster
hurricanes winds rise from the greatest source
even this cannot deter or distract this awful Duck
one mission under a selfish chant of
quack a doodle quack, quack a doodle quack, quack a doodle quack
which only translates to me
only me, me only me, me only me!
a co written piece by Donna Loughman and Liam McDaid
I hope someday
you can find it in your heart
to extend your forgiveness
that undeserved kindness
for having openly hurt you
but in truth it is my own reproach
I do not trust myself
so that placing a wedge between us
will keep us from dishonor
I want to love you openly
not a rendezvous or tryst
of drunken desire
but that of a cherished loved one
whom you live with honor and respect
and not something tawdry
but glorious and approved
I would rather prick you now
than be the cause of death in you
preferable a bruising of you
that can heal than arrows of death in you
When you can make the choice
of letting love have its perfect work
and faithful in every respect
I would rather bear your reproach
than endanger your life before God
I left the ways of the world long ago
the endless wanton self serving desire
where sex is simply a handshake hello
and not the tender bonding of two souls
into one unity of truth for life
I would give my life to and for you
but I will not throw both ours away
this throwaway society
where everything and everyone
is just so much trash to be used
then tossed aside , disposed of
I do not want that for either of us
trash or treasure
that choice is yours
a building and not a tearing down
forgive please this pain
I have placed upon you
you are too precious
I desire the building of you
and not the tearing apart and down
when you can understand
the gravity of your choices
and the resultant end
it is your benefit I seek
in an approved way before God
and not the temporary pleasure of sin
this is the love I want for both of us
the kind that is thoughtful and lasting
and walks in the truth together
when you can openly ask me
to trust and love you for life
and understand this burden
the answer will be yes and Amen
COPYRIGHT © 2011 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
In a crowded room filled with high society, and
In the facade of decadence, plays the Back Street Symphony
Winos falling asleep covered in yesterdays news
A lone saxaphone player, playing the blues
Neon signs and desinger lines are giving him his cues
He says "I've paid my dues"
I've got front row tickets to mainstreet
Walkin' by, don't know who you'll meet
A freak show on every corner
A broken heart walks on as a mourner
In a darkened alley you can hear him pray
Searching for a Savior with some words and a brown bag
Can anyone spare some change for me?
There goes the prom queen, is it a dream?
Hell is open twenty-four hours a day
I have front row tickets to main street
Watching the devils' choir earn their keep
There tearing down the walls in LA
There's a hooker on display, on main street