Long The Poems
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REMEMBER TO BE WHAT YOU WERE MEANT TO BE. A HUMAN BEING HAVING A SPIRITUAL EXPERIENCE HERE ON EARTH. A TREE CAN NEVER BE UPROOTED WITHOUT THE OWNERS CONSENT. RELOCALIZE YOUR BODY AND BRING IT TO A PLACE WHERE YOU CAN LIVE SIDE BY SIDE YOUR CONFIDENCE AND WELL BEING. STRETCH OUT YOUR LEAFY ARMS AND EMBRACE THE SOIL . LET YOUR SEEDLINGS GROW IN SUNSHINE, RIGHT NEXT TO LOVE AND WANDER. (B)
RELEASE THE MAGIC MOMENTS THAT ARE GIVEN TO YOU FROM THE ANGELS. INSIDE YOUR CELESTIAL POUCH ARE SILVER STARS AND GOLDEN MOONS.
WELCOME EVERYONE YOU MEET HERE, AND TELL THEM ABOUT THE GOOD NEWS. YOU HAVE ALL ARRIVED AT A PLACE WHERE AWARENESS IN QUEEN AND JOY IS KING. DELVE IN THE FRESH WATERS OF LIFE AND DANCE THE DANCE OF JOY(B)
EACH EYE LID OF YOURS HAS BEEN SPRINKLED WITH STARDUST AND GIVEN THE COMMAND. "BE WELL, AND REMAIN HAPPY ALWAYS, IN THIS MAGIC MOMENT"
REMEMBER TO BE WHAT YOU WERE MEANT TO BE. A HUMAN BEING HAVING A SPIRITUAL EXPERIENCE HERE ON EARTH. YOU HAVE BEEN GIVEN A NEW LEASE ON LIFE A NEW CHANCE, THROUGH REBIRTH. SO SMILE !
NAMASTE
Stage One: There was a crime? Oh, please don't offend,
because I'm saying IT NEVER HAPPENED.
Stage Two: Just ignore whatever you read.
IT HAPPENED BUT NOT THE WAY YOU SAID.
Stage Three: Okay, Giuliani, our legal eagle
said IT HAPPENED BUT IT WASN'T ILLEGAL.
(Wait, what? Giuliani's been disbarred?)
Stage Four: Okay, the liberal press did their due diligence
and we have to admit
IT HAPPENED, IT WAS ILLEGAL
BUT THERE'S NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT.
Stage Five: Enough with your fake news bit.
Your reporting's not worth a bucket of spit.
IT HAPPENED, WE'RE PROUD OF IT
AND YOU'RE A TRAITOR FOR QUESTIONING IT!
Drip…Drip…Glop…Glop!
Hydrants on – water stops
Scorching heat – summer’s here
Water scarcity paves the fear!
Water for bathing and even cleaning
Ice-water chugging only for dreaming!
No water to wash clothes or dishes
Only dripping drips and glopping glops always misses
The ever-streaming fountain waters of the faucets
Scorching heat has no raindrops to even pause it!
Soaking up the summer sun is drying up the creek
Even birds dive their beak
Into bird-bathing tubs and ponds
To refresh themselves while they bond
With even puddles, swamps, and ponds!
Such is the soul that seeks not the Lord
Spirit quenches; soul deters; loss one cannot afford!
Drying heart and withering mind
Panting spirit; panting soul; never finds place to unwind!
Panic strikes fearful expectations
With no foreseeable explanations
All the signs of a soul’s dehydration!
One may feel a thinning creek seeping through
A trickle of peace painting your blues,
Dripping drops of gladness or cheer
Should one praise and feel God near
For but a single moment ‘til praise arrives to full completion
But, one’s world returns to deterred depletion!
That’s when you know something stones your resurrection!
A little explanation leading to confession is the right direction
To relieve you from further pursuit of your dehydrant frustrations!
If there’s ever a pebble stoning your way
Hindering your peace every day
Blocking your steps to stepping into God’s throne room
And blocking your sunlight with feelings of gloom,
While you find yourself entrapped in a circle of strife and fear,
And can only draw a thin-flowing creek of joy and cheer,
I’ll have you know that sins are lies
That only untie
When sin is confessed and forsaken!
Take the Word…it’s NEVER mistakin’
Truth, then, will shine its light
Forever bright
Floodgates of heaven will burst wide open
Desert Rivers and streams will halt your mopin’
When you elevate your praise to God above,
The Father of Light…The Father of Love….
“Behold! I am about to do something new; even now it is coming! Do you not see it? Indeed, I will make a way in the wilderness and streams in the desert” Isaiah 43:19
Angelic facial features with huge sparkling eyes
A perfect youthful dewy complexion
Very long silky looking thick hair
Red pouty lips moist with bright cherry gloss
Long red nails with big sparkling rings
A 22-inch waist, with perfect measurements
Legs that go on and on, forever, with
Perfect feet and toes in spiked heels
A very busty hour glass figure....
This air brushed enhanced fantasy woman can be found in most fashion magazines.
5/18/19
This was poem is written to bring attention to teenagers and the perfect body images they are trying to compete with. This has caused self-esteem issues and eating disorders as well as depression and suicidal thoughts. It would be so nice if our society depicted normal healthy realistic women in fashion magazines!
The bottle freedom cracks suddenly
I don't want a quarrel
Cos' I don't want a duel
I don't want a quarrel
Cos' I don't want to pinch his toes
I don't want a quarrel
Cos' I might crack shell our relationship
I don't want a quarrel
Cos' I might go soured our communication
I don't want a quarrel
Cos' I don't want to cause her a baked heart
They don't want a fight
They don't want to offend
I don't want communication go loud
Cos' I don't want a split rock relationship
In this bottled freedom
I don't want to kill
this happy mood we are
though I am dying inside
In his frustration
He keeps silence
In her caked heart
She keeps silence
In his blue eyes
He keeps silence
In her red heart
She keep silence
but silence is a killer!
And then depression
drains her kind
As obsession
tame his mind
oppression
their freedom binds.
Tin tiny thinner
They become
Going down into a pit
of mind imprisonment
Fear their jailer
has sent melancholy
to be their mate
as hatred becomes
their breath.
silence is a murderer
Choked up he becomes
Cooked up she boils
Baked brown
boiled hard
Steamed hot
bursting into social
Maladjustments
Exploding radioactive
Silence is an executioner
Don't quarrel
don't fight
don't break relationship
don't cut communication
But please don't be drenched
in a pool of silence.
Silence is a pretence
In the multitudes of silence
Is greater war
In the multitudes of silence
Is greater battle
In the multitudes of silence
lays the inner poison
stocked inside
piled within.
The heart
bears the weight of it
when heavy
screams thunder
then all is voiced
Though it's a tool but
Don't be drenched
in it pool
Like a deeper ocean
It is ....when drenched
Silence is a bottled freedom
1st place Win
Contest :Reflection in silence
Sponsor: Silent One
******
A Poet's note:
"Silence an inside and gentle killer
A problem shared is half solved
A problem kept within is multiplied ×2"
Most great people who passed on painfully
Gave way to self silence antidote/medic
Doctors are well visited, but counsellors
Neglected ...this should be taken in
6/21/2020
They told us our skin meant exile
That our joy would be put on trial
Because it brings rain
But how can they hate the rain when it nourishes the ground we walk on
The same ground that grows the food we need to survive
They want us to cower in the face of their Whiteness
To bow down to their egos and stroke it
For us to call them superior
And reprimand our own blackness
And repent with silence
But we were born strong
Strength flowed through our bloodlines
Coursing through generations
Our ancestors created a legacy of pride
That we their children will not allow to be broken
We have endured the stings of their whips
We have lived through the shackles of slavery
We have taken abuse from the system
Yet still remained outspoken
Refusing to be the beat up victim
And faced the inhumane conditions of incarceration
We were made to withstand any storm
To hold our own
Whilst being pushed around
To trust in the power of ourselves
To embrace the harsh realities of life
To continue to love
And balance the rain with our sun
To smile and not giving them the satisfaction
Of their racism
And to not be bullied by their discrimination
A woman who came from the north
Had the most dreadful corf
She coughed and she spluttered
She moaned and she muttered
Because she could not shake the corf orf
A Man From The East
There was a huge man from the east
Every meal that he ate was a feast
He got so fat
His stomach went splat
Now the huge man from the east is deceased
A Man From The South
An unfortunate man from the south
Had a very very large mouth
It was so wide
It stretched to both sides
Not to the north and the south
A Woman From The West
A woman who came from the west
Always dressed in the very best
She wore beautiful clothes
From her head to her toes
But she would not be seen dead in a vest
The poet, he sat, with a pen in his hand,
And cardboard, by the shop door,
And his eyes only saw the polarised view,
Of what people chose to ignore,
The sight from his rug, from his holes in his jeans,
The sight from his broken down hat,
Was of the emptiest people, buried in work,
Living a life in combat,
Which had faded away the colour of fun,
To his eyes they were all still at school,
They each did exactly what they were told,
Chasing the coin like a fool,
And he wrote what he saw beyond their dead eyes,
He wrote from his cold concrete seat,
He wrote the things he loved about life,
From his raw homeless spot on the street.
If from the edge of night a new day doesn’t dawn,
I wish I’ll make anew a sunburst horizon for you,
sparking the sparkle on dew drops in your meadow,
it’s me glittering for you, I’ll wish you to know.
If pale twilight descends with drizzle of despair,
the ebon night consumes all your dreams,
I wish I’ll rise as the mesmeric moon sublime,
with the stardust configure your dormant desires.
If dolorous clouds cover your convolute sky,
torrents of rain turn into your unshed tears,
I wish I’ll become silver lining of melting cloud,
weave the lattice of love in your broken heart.
If you get lost in the forlorn desert of destiny,
chasing mirage in collapsing dunes of your world,
I wish I’ll become a fountain in oasis of longing,
drench your parched yearning till the end of time.
January 22, 2020
Contest : What Are Your Wishes
Sponsor : Chantelle Anne Cooke
The torment by lower things only adds fuel to the
dormant flames
You can try as you will to block its shine but still it
will rise & rage the same
Time & again they've felt the flames so in this
way they feel at home
Light has shined on some wicked things so the
darkness has clearly shown
We're not alone in this war of words but everyone
battles a different foe
This world of words is the shape of things & if you
pay attention dimensions show
We come & go at a pleasing pace for we know in the
end no time is lost
We pay our dues with struggles as we reach for change
but only you know if it's worth the cost