Long Teenaged Poems
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The Legacy
Teenaged girl of only eighteen years she was when
Hastily betrothed to a man who was twice her age then
By parents who were overwhelmed with fear and worry
About four daughters who they had to send off to marry
My Mother, she was the eldest of the four sisters
With the responsibilities to care for even her brothers
From early childhood she learnt the wearisome ropes
Which proved opportune training for her in future to cope
With a foreboding dad and a frail mum such as theirs
She had very little option but to take the reins in her cares
Persistence, sacrifice, self-denial were on the top of the list
Cleaning pots and pans in comparison was the very least
The man she was betrothed to had neither status nor treasure
His assets being mainly kindness and love in great measure
With the little money honestly earned, toiling together
Bonding and building each other, in preparation for a future
My mother was a self-taught seamstress and dad a talented tailor
When the days’ earning weren’t enough, they burnt the midnight oil together
Amidst complains and criticisms they humbly took their stride
In delivering their goods to satisfy their customers with pride
Their nest now filled with warmth of their love and happiness
Together they looked forward to God given marital bliss
One by one their off springs then came along
To dwell in this place called home, for years, to belong
The little that they owned in material worth
Became even less but we for sure, added to their mirth
Never a day went by when we were in want
Cause their love was abundant and that’s all we cared about
The Legacy they left was not diamonds nor pearls
But virtues and values which would hold us up in coming years
And the lessons we learnt over the hard times we went through
Helped build our characters, in retrospection I view
They taught us to love and care for each other
And also those less fortunate, who we ought to call ‘sister ‘or ‘brother’
Share whatever you have they would kind-heartedly say
God is watching and will send fresh blessings your way
So mum and dad though you are not here anymore
In spirit your constant presence surrounds us, your Legacy is right here
The three children you have raised are mirroring your ways
Mum, you always said, “It is God’s guiding hand in the first place”.
Drop dead gorgeous dark eyed bus boy chased
Peer assured status, focus of my fascination
High fiving idol guffawed and elbowed adjacent
Mates in droves, admirers in rows, dreamy Damon
Enriched to glimpse soap opera face as I boarded
From boys' school nearby, the greener gender pasture
Glance at my rolled up skirt spoke to thoughts sordid
His fleeting grin sent collapsing knees, mates' laughter
In typical teenage fashion for the times, mid nineties
Before social media blinked million comment designation
Our exchange over months limited to several niceties
Emptying bus afternoon he asked me out, supreme elation
Profile examined in mirror the evening of our due movie
Re primped the pair of socks boosting breasts non existant
Had my (only) half decent outfit chosen for past two weeks
Prospect of dating Damon held no heart slowing assistance
Uneventful night pursued, spun by overwhelming innocence
Being too naive to encourage moves, nerves running riot
Our chaeffered lifts to cinemas knew no lip warming kiss
Closely guarded phone each evening, obstinately quiet
A month later, bus reverberated his revised standards
Update explained to his mates, his tastes were narrowing
One percent of girls bore requirements Damon demanded
Variety other than curvaceous blonde, saw attention souring
Perfunctory level of awareness, lack of inner dignity
Allowed me to continue, lust bound, blindly desiring
During next year, Damon must have woken to scarcity
Blonde eligible youngsters for his affection aspiring
Mirror had become a somewhat closer companion
Make up added maturity, curves came, and confidence
Outside brick walled front of school, squinted in sun
Damon boldly suggested our courting should recommence
Sideways glance with my fiend, Suzie, enclosed chapters
Desperately I pleaded with my fifteen year old foolishness
To keep a straight face as I turned him down, lustre lacking
"I don't know, " faux deep thought, " Chance is one percent"!
2nd August 2020
Dusty Old Memories Poem Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Evergreen Community
Here is a tale to astound and to stretch any viewer’s fantasy and imagination…
Proudly presented by the creative people behind The Twilight Zone productions..
A loving family of a couple and their 2 daughters arrived at a guarded community…
Having sold off everything on a gamble to begin life anew in this new community…
They are out of options on how to bring up their ever rebellious elder teenaged daughter…
Who is heavily tattoed with hair hideously coloured, bubble gum chewing and bad mannered..
This new community is touted to bring about a positive turn to any family in suffering..
There are even beefy security guards to quell any dissenting teenagers from rebelling..
The leader of the commune guides and controls the flock of registered families..
Whenever there are disruptive teenagers, the whole commune meet in harmony…
They then cast their lots in colored beads, black or white, their numbers will decide for free…
Treatment for any troubled and rebellious kid, the family will be assigned a healthy tree…
The leader extols the use and love to be derived from any unmanageable teenaged mutiny…
Once treated, the love and benefits will be immense for the continual health of the commune…
So the plot thickens as our colorful teenaged girl was changed in appearance to conform..
But her rebellious and suspicious character was not a little diminished nor was she reformed…
She realised to her deepening horror the nameless dangers that are in store for kids like her..
Her unflinching love for her younger sister was ever uppermost in her mind, big sister like her..
Witness her confusion, her growing horror as she realises the depths of a sisterly betrayal…
Hear her desperate pleas and screams for help, when her family as one, turned away in denial..
Shades of the Stepford Wives, what a twist to such an incredible tale of imagination…
Little wonder in the Twilight Zone, a viewer will be lost in a world of wonder and astonishment..
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gBaOAUG1zr8&list=PLbxdxEWxTqX81L3NnAU3nEwvPhkT7FuRm&index=23
were he made a sale on the most expensive car on the lot, his boss being so impressed gave him a raise which
eventually would result in this man getting back his family and being able to buy a car of his own. our third unsuspecting stranger
the young teenaged skateboarder no older than 16, was on his way to the skatepark at the time wendy had realised she was short of money
for the 802 bus. just seconds after the bus departed and she had realised she had one the jackpot she let out a burst of excitement
and glee, which made the young boy stop immediately to see what was going on which resulted in him narrowly missing the 802 bus. after he
had realised what had happened he went on his way to the skate park were he did tricks and impressive flips that impressed a man that
specialised in a skateboarding career so much that he gave him a job as a professional skateboarder and went on also to create great
success. but wendy didn't give that busker 2 dollars so she was no short for cash and didn't miss the bus to by that winning scratchy
instead she boarded the 802 bus, and without that 2 dollar donation it didn't inspire that busker to stay and get a recording deal
instead he also hoped on the 802 bus. and because the busker didn't stay the car salesman didn't stop to appreciate the music and
in doing so didn't hear the old couple wanting a car and joined the others on the 802 bus, and the boy on the skateboard wasn't distracted
by wendy because she never brought the scratchy which means he never stopped for that split second and did not miss the 802 bus, instead
he was struck by it making the bus to crash of a bridge and kill all of the passengers. if only wendy had made a seemingly unnoticed
kind 2 dollar donation to the busker she could have save herself and three other lives but not only save but bring riches
fame and happiness. imagine what ation we did or didn't make that have affected the lives of us and all around us?
Form:
Tossing and turning after a heavy economic loss
The shock shattered my peace of nights
Hugging my pillow tight with unshed tears
The sorrowful thoughts trudged haltingly
To my grandma's antique sewing machine
Lying impassively in the cluttered store
Guilt shook me out of my sluggish memories
Over the dormant treasure dearly ignore
Up and about I barged into the basement
I carried it upstairs carefully with loaded adulation
Dusted and oiled my reborn ardency
Connoisseured my eyes with twinkling love
The art of neatly stitching hearts was taught
By granny silently as she held onto its handle
While the machine's needle and shuttle
Would treadle my ripped and torn today
Retrospecting over the many inheritances
Of love she left her favoured grandchild
A few stressed lines ironed out my brow
The silver forks to hold on to love
And the knives to cut out the wasted crusts
Her crocheted scarf for my winter warmth
When she saw her child had no such style
Amongst her voguish teenaged peers
A gold viking insignia with my initials embossed
Was loosely chained around my neck emblematising
Her overwhelming love must have oozed profusely
When she rocked me in her tender arms
Gazing fondly at the next in line to her posterity
Her marriage ring she gave on my wedding
Which the thieves much mistook for their right
Emptying stores of my sentimental potpourri
The wealth was stolen with rancour
But not my granny's fondness that was
Reigning still in the depth of my heart
I continue living with my antiques of love
The gold viking pendent had inadvertently
Slipped from the chain to a safer corner
The silvern cutlery smiles at the table
Smirking at the ignorant fools
For undervaluing their worth
The handle of the sewing machine
Moves at my command silently stitching
Nostalgic memories with empyreal pride
October 26, 2016
For Broken Wings
Old Jewellery or Just Old Things
Once, inside o' an Irish family's Derrygoolin farmhouse in the 1940s,
A boy named Anthony heard the woman whose word is death, himself, foreseen.
When the reaper's cloak appears to those who choke,
And his cowl upon ye' prowls,
She who's bound to the royal lassies and blokes,
Will warn her kin within a howl.
For once upon a time there lived a group of regal Celtic kings,
Whose love was made to those who ring in the zephyr as they sing.
Aligned were the crowns of man and fey,
Together tied by what they bore,
Whose birth brought forth the foremost day,
Whence the walls between their worlds tore.
And so the children of those five Irish kings and their fair-haired fairy maids,
Live on today with the mind of man and intuition of those who which they laid.
So that night when the teenaged Anthony was working in the family barn,
He heard the vengeance of the wind and a woman screaming from afar.
He ran back to his house where his family had been,
To see if they were alright,
For he knew what he heard before and when,
The wind blew by the banshee's might.
"We're alright, Tony," his twelve siblings and parents had said confused,
As their brother and son looked at each of them with a smile, yet unamused.
Later that evening Tony could not sleep,
And tossed and turned in fright,
For in his head he could not help but keep,
The thought of the banshee he had heard tonight.
So the same insomnia had invaded upon poor Tony the following end of day,
As a fear inside him grew and growled, which he failed to tame and keep at bay.
The next day, horror struck the family:
Tony's two year-old brother Victor had passed away,
Of what, the doctor could not see,
And the smiles of his family had no more to say.
This story is a true familial anecdote about my now-passed Uncle Tony,
Who died two days after I was in my yard and heard in the wind a cry of the banshee.
If any parents were to check a facebook account of any teenager...
It stretches their imaginations to see friends from the world over...
Some friends claimed to be some famous idols,
Some even have pictures of popular people...
How can a teenaged kid to know that the nice bosom internet pal,
Is actually in disguise, a killer or pedophil on the prowl...
The dastardly one can claim to be in some far away place...
When in truth he could in the neighbourhood near to your place...
It is so frightening who are being allowed into our lives..
If we indiscriminately accept and say yes to every request to be friends...
Your lovely son or daughter that you'll give up life to protect...
Could be already in a deadly trap of a so called internet friend in regular contact...
It explains how teenaged girls are lured away so readily by an internet friend..
Cos in their squeeky clean innocence they can't see some friends are fiends...
You'll please share this info around, given the dangers that are abound...
In the various forms of social media, we as parents may be very much unaware...
It's frightening how some kids posts their presence....
Here, there and everywhere about their presence....
Sadder still like a much circulated article earlier...
Some proud parents promote their gorgeous precious children...
Little knowing someone with bad intentions, may be collecting information...
Heavens forbid but some young kids are subtlely lured away....
Leaving grieving parents bewildered and dismayed..
Their precious little one is now lost or gone astray..
Like a 14 year girl love besotted teenager who was to journey to Syria...
All alone in the name of blinded love and religious fervour...
See then these incidents of awful dangers challenging our teenagers..
As parents, sworn to protect our children, wake up to these dangers!
Once, I’d stood beside a man
Who, with heart and soul o’erwrought,
Silently searched for answers, but answers found him not.
His sister recently had passed from Earthly life to next,
And left her brother standing, filled with emptiness.
We stood within a classroom, throbbing with life and youthful confidence,
Listening to strangers speak of futures in terms of choice and providence.
When above the din of music and deafening teenaged discourse,
I thought I heard his spirit cry
“What choices do we truly have-when comes the time to die?”
How? and why? His queries all began
Echoing voices of a preceding time, to which my mind sped swiftly in reverse
To that moment when I’d stood besides another man,
Who, with sighing, held his sister in his thoughts, and in
Speechlessness did he with her converse,
Wondering, each, about his dying.
We’d stood within a bustling airport crowd,
Listening with half-ears to strangers chatting,
With boisterous busy-ness about their day’s importance.
While I, in their unawareness, sought a way to say goodbye
To a man whose life linked mine; by merit of our birth and love.
Fore’er, our hearts entwined.
I looked then to my brother’s face and thought
How does one rout this wretched misery?
Where does one turn to quell the pain?
What choices do I really have to make my loved one well and whole again?
From all cancerous affiliations, a remedy we then sought.
So now a brother and a sister stood, reflecting upon what went before.
From science and from God, we asked from both a comfort and a cure.
My friend, the questions asked by you
Were those the same by me,
And though we asked the questions,
The answers to the whys and hows
Unheeded they did go
Though in their stead One Truth was given-
It is not in the dying that choices can be made,
But in the way we do our living.
VERSE 1.
Some people ask for more;
I'm an unwed mother;
Teen born in my loneliness;
I just want love, from anyone;
Some people past for joy;
I'll take any one;
While others seek bigger and better toys;
Now I don't want much and I don't ask for gold;
Chorus:
My heart is purple;
Purple is as the rose;
Rose to the occasion;
And I am not by any means whole;
I stand in this land of pearls jewels, nor raisin Cain;
As a boat leaves the shore,
you leave me alone with
Mother's Baby Boy
VERSE 2
Some people ask for more
Some people past for joy;
Some people pace the floors;
While others seek bigger and better joys;
I explore as you close the doors (on me)
Now I still don't want no silver or gold (silver or gold)
I just want to be held, want to be loved
What does this teenaged girl knows??. . . .
Chorus:
My heart is purple;
Purple is as the rose;
Rose to the occasion;
And I am not by any means whole;
I stand in this land of pearls jewels, nor raisin Cain;
As a boat leaves the shore,
you leave me alone with
Mother's Baby Boy
Reframe:
I'm suspended yet independent still no nothing;
Trying to be grown and. . .
of this I shouldn't ignored;
My life has just been reborn;
Impregnated in my sins,
Did' I say I was just a teen
My life has just been reborn, a child from God is love;
No matter how he comes
others say he must stop, but I 'll carry him til I drop;
As the boat leaves for shore;
he's my
Mother's Baby Boy
Chorus:
My heart is purple;
Purple is as the rose;
Rose to the occasion;
And I am not by any means whole;
I stand in this land of pearls jewels, nor raisin Cain;
As a boat leaves the shore,
you leave me alone with
Mother's Baby Boy
09/19/71
from the Short
Story Play Omaha North High School/UNO College entry:
"Mother's Baby Boy"
There’s Scottie in his chair
Tongue firmly in his cheek
Trying to wind up Old Noel,
The highlight of his week.
Noel, over eighty, Veteran
Of the Korean War
Gives as good as he gets
And dishes out much more.
Gordon’s his visiting carer
Sits there with a big grin
Not himself a veteran but
He’s managed to fit in.
Big Dave is eating as usual
Throwing in the odd word,
The vision of him ever fitting
In a tank now patently absurd.
Crann’s the honorary caretaker
Helping out while he waits
For his entry Visa to join
His fiancee over in the states.
Emily the teenaged volunteer
Who won’t take any lip
Has those hardened veterans
Under her slender finger tips.
Tuesday morning at The Centre,
Stacks of admin there to do,
Bur I’ve had to close the office
And get on with the brew.
It’s not yet ten o’clock
The Drop-in looks nearly full
Already starting the craic
The banter and the bull.
So many other people coming
In and out in a steady flow
As one comes in another
Just seems to get up go.
Regimental rivalries
Black Forces Humour
Downright lies and
Manufactured rumour.
Hobbie’s by the door
Taking the whole scene in,
Vic’s chatting to Chris
Who’s sat there with a grin.
That’s the way it used to be
But now it’s closed and gone
In a Covid changed world
Where things have moved on.
So many years we lasted
Existing from day to day
And then for some reason
We seemed to lose our way.
The rise of the Pandemic
Seemed to be the last straw
And the founding spirit just
Wasn’t’ there any more.
The Drop-in that helped so many
Was just too good to last
Like so many valued things
Just a memory of the past.