Long Tie up Poems
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Here I am standing on the milky way hoping that someone would come my way, I have been here for a thousand years with millions of stars stuffed up into my guts and the solar system with is unwinding rhythm orbiting the galaxy in the center of the mass and the dark matter is running around the town in a brand-new set of gowns.
Where they come from, I don’t know, but they are about to start a brand-new show; they are wearing alien skirts and blouse made out of purified dirt.
I see them coming in droves they are parachuting through the clouds, they are acting as if they have no feeling, and they are coming at a speed that will smash up your zeal and turn the planet into ashes and dirt.
The planet is running around with the sun and the mission is not yet done you have to go back in space and tie up the loose ends that are hanging from the heavens; they are three thousand light years away and they cannot connect with the beam to release the clogged-up steam.
The galaxies is sending a message to you, you must organize another mission in the sky to find the point before the beam dies; it will plunge the earth into darkness for a thousand years and the plants would die, and nothing will pass through the sky.
The galaxy is of three main types, and you have got to separate the spirals galaxy from the irregular's galaxy and the elliptical galaxy before the universe move.
You have to arrange another trip with Russia, Japan, China, India and America with Britain and Germany at the tip. You have to examine what is going on up there because I am seeing some strange image that is causing me to fear, is it digital manipulation or is its political frustration, whatever it is, it frightens every living creature to its core, and you have to keep asking for more.
Touch me if you can see me, touch me if you feel me. I don’t have to see the movement of your hands; I only have to feel the courage in your soul and the fire from the sun engraved in the center of your hand.
It can scan through any door and take you to the upper floor, this is my latest invention, and it can take me straight up to the sky without a nickel or dime.
Touch me if you can feel me, touch me and pass the energy around, touch me with the tip of your fingers and your long-awaited dreams will come through; just touch me and the universe will open the big door for you.
Run Bacon run, the sound come echoing from the gun, run bacon run there is nothing to fear hold on to the third and the fifth gear. The oil is in the hip, grease your joints before you take that dip.
Meringue and carhop is no match for the crown. His body is on fire, and his passion is rolling with desire. The cow is on heat and the miracle is underneath my feet. He is running around in the sty so come catch the bull before it dies; the herd is waiting at the crossing with guitar and drums getting ready for that final home run.
Run bacon run, tie up your belly and run, take off your socks and shoes and anchor your feet in the ground before the mid-day news. Take up your baggage and run before you hear the final gun.
They are no match for your ingenuity, your originality and your brevity the crowd is pressing on with courage, ambition and perseverance but the dictator is hiding in the room and you have to remove him before noon.
Run bacon run the race is not yet done, this weekend promises to be fun if you stay in your lane and follow your gut feeling. You have got to know how to roll the dice and you got to know how to run on ice, you must keep your feet firm on the ground and follow the beam on the screen.
Run bacon run, you have three more laps before it’s done, the universe is watching you, and the crowd is patronizing you.Run bacon run, and take control of the track, the president and prime-ministers are in the stands, they are tossing money and playing lot, and way up in the gallery the Saudi dignitaries are getting jittery and the referees are moving around the field taking notes and observing the “goats”. They have thrown a lot of money in this race and anxiety is swelling in their face but they were not in a hurry, for the estimated glory.
Beacon is turning the corner and the crowd is roaring louder, bacon is getting is on the home stretch and it is pulling away in depth. The eastern stand is on fire and it is dancing with pleasure while the northern stand is cruising with the breeze and water is dripping from their knees, they are also on fire.
The western stand is burning with desire and the bacon has just crossed the finishing line in a striking distance of more than fifty meters. I have got to take the bacon home to cool down this internal fire, and give the niceties their final desire.
Run Beacon run!
Pity my city
I pity my city there is no dignity in this city
There is no justice no freedom
Street children in a locked hall, shocking
County council overworking
The city must be clean so some humans are garbage
Some are cabbage, the garbage pay the damage
No houses sleep on spillage
But there are human rights
There are human right activists
There is the department of justice
All filled with malice
Pockets practice
Gross malpractice
Injustice, silence
You are in court
Guilty of court contempt
Another charge
The bail or the sentence
I’m bailed out in silence
Next time just bring your presence
Retain your silence
I was told
You will be safe.
My phone is gone, my shirt is torn
No bus fare so I walk alone
I think a lot, go back home or not
I remember I am a poet
I write a poem, a paradox
Pain in the city
I pity my city there is no dignity in my city.
Never what I came for
Likewise not what I prepared for
To be robbed by those I voted for
I am not happy anymore
My city is no more
I don’t wish for more
I just want go
not the city I know.
not where I wanted to grow
cartels make us bow
Now, now, now, it is time.
Time to know I am grown
And carry always my identity card
The men in blue are out bad
And always never forget also to carry ‘kitambulisho ya polisi’
Hawa watu ni mabeast na mafisi, human hyenas
time to tie up my seat belt whenever in a matatu,
sina mia tano ya kulipa coti kila saa na sitaki kulala ndani siku tatu
two days I am locked up inside my own head
spinning spinning, my thoughts are dead
the life so far I have led
no step has been made
no journey finished
No house furnished
Time is running and broke is sickening
My heart is listening, my brain is calculating
I have to act quick, just do something
The weather so good for chilling, but bad for singles
Life is unfair
No dream has been real
No love to heal
No feel
No deal
Just the bill
More and more bills
The city is fattening
Wanjiku is sickening
From Nys to health to Tunnels
It is all on the channels
How they on the seat eat
Meat
The citizen kitty is gone
The city is torn
Get the president on the phone
Call the press, what must be done be done
Impunity will not rule this city
Dignity must be restored
This city no more a pity
Bring back the citizen kitty
Say no more
The city.
Take me to the great big ocean to settle this aged old commotion; take me to the ocean to build a gigantic camp fire in the middle of the Oceanic water and drive out the Spanish bush doctors from the ocean floor and close the ocean doors.
The energy radiating from the sun is spilling heat all over the streets and the message is clear that you don’t have enough time to linger over there.
Get the big ship and put all the crew and workers in place to get ready for the big race. Gather everyone on the shore and position the captain next to the door gives them a short briefing and confidential report about the meeting.
Tie up all the loose ends and release the entire caged animal from the lion’s den. You will give them a little book and tell them what to cook.
You will appoint a small team to guide everyone to fulfill their passionate dream. When they arrive let walk in their pride, family will unite and singles will take a bride to walk by their side and if they can agree one must fall on its knees and pop the big familiar question.
If the answer is yes, you will get on with it in the middle of the crowd and say the pledge aloud, and If the answer is no keep moving until you find the right connection to pacify your dream.
You will do some mountain cleansing and some spiritual healing and those that are in doubt must cross their heart and continue to shout,.
You will remove the impurities from the mountain and drive out all the heathen; you will make a mound on the hill and plant a tree and leave it as a signal for thee. I will know that you were there and I will walk on the fine line until I get over there.
Take a good look around you and observe what is happening in front of you business are closing and the owners are leaving the city, the bad men are looting the stores and the boys are breaking down the door.
They are stuffing their bags with merchandize and the owners have to pay a woeful sacrifice; something is coming and you better prepare you will have to change gear before you go over there,
You have got to sing a different tune so meet me at noon. Get your travel bag and let's journey to the other side of the ocean and do what is proper.
Take me to the ocean to end this painful commotion.
From the age of 10, we were
If boys pulled out hair or poked us with pencils
They liked us.
But we didn't like it very much.
We were 13 years old when we would walk down the street
And had men look at us from our face to our feet.
We'd listen as they completely replaced our identity
From human--to object..
Momma always said "If a strange man is followin' you, go to the other side of the street. And if they grab you--Scream."
This was something we had to learn at 13 just because we were young and naive.
We got our ass slapped in school but it was cool because
it meant we had nice bodies
And they rated our bodies 1-10, if you were a 10
you heard whistles and "damn girl!"
But if you were a "damn girl"
You weren't a damn girl at all
You were just a toy labeled "Do whatever you want to, even though I don't agree."
We had to watch what we were because if too much shoulder was showing
We had to change our clothes because it was distracting the boys from their learning
So the only we were learning were tips and tricks to tie up our shirt so that
It didn't hang too low because that would show the boys we wanted it.
Because wearing shorts and tank tops meant we were flaunting it.
When we were 16, we screamed because the men on the street finally caught up to us
We quietly said "Don't touch me there.."
But that meant go
We said no
But that meant yes
So they grabbed us and unzipped our dress
They threw us down where ur dignity sank lower than the ground
They hovered over us as we pleaded for them to stop
They got on top of us and you don't need to know the rest because we're some
Of the 68% of victims that never tell a soul so we'll just grab our dress and go home
We'll take a few showers and try to get some sleep
In the morning, we'll choose an outfit that looks the most discreet
Because we never want another man to look at us and think
We're sweet enough to taste.
We will sit in the back of class so know one ask how our weekend was
Because if they do, We might just burst into tears
We went from boys poking us
To men provoking us
We went from playing with toys
To being to toys ourselves
So boys will be boys
And us women will never tell...
The young lad sat in the old school room
To him the place felt like a tomb
He knew that he would be leaving soon
He felt restless
He got a job on the factory floor
This just seemed to be a bore
So he quit when he could take no more
The world was there to see
He packed his gear in an ancient grip
And set out on an adventure trip
To the Pool of London to join a ship
And ran away to sea
Ten men packed in a cabin tight
Snoring and breaking wind all night
But he could cope with this all right
He was on the move
Soon they were landing on foreign shores
Where they took on cargo and fresh stores
And drank and brawled and slept with whores
Then off again to sea
He saw the turtles and sharks and whale
Ships under steam and under sail
Felt both the roll of a force ten gale
And the calm of an island lee
He thought of lads he had left at school
On the factory floor or playing pool
Knowing that they would be missing it all
Glad he wasn’t with them
Through Suez or the Panama
Rio or to Zanzibar
Nowhere seemed to be too far
To tie up at a quay
He crossed the Great Australian Bight
Where gigantic waves all toped with white
Sparkling with Phosphorescent light
Came crashing over the foc’sle
He’d watched lovely Polynesian girls
Diving naked in search of pearls
The vision blurred as the water swirls
Some vision
He’d stood on deck when a seamen died
Watched the corpse slipped over the side
Sinking slowly under the tide
Gone forever
He’d sailed beneath the Golden Gate
By Alkatraz where the convicts wait
All hoping to dodge a grisly fate
Electric chair
He’d seen bars explode in a vicious fight
Or sometimes sat on a tropic night
Watching fireflies flash iridescent light
How relaxing
He’d seen men crazy through too much dope
Sailed round the horn and the cape of hope
Been offered a woman for a bar of soap
That’s poverty
He travelled the globe both far and nigh
From the Norway fjord to old Shanghai
This was the life of sea and sky
This was the life for he
He’d met with the hero and with the liar
Saw the sun go down like a ball of fire
Thought of this life he would never tire
Things were changing
Form:
It is time to change the gear
you are causing a mountain of fear
people are running to and fro
looking for a safe place to go
the cars are climbing slowly up the hill
and there is a traffic jam and I hope
that you can understand.
Nothing is coming and nothing is going
the heat is raging and everyone is complaining
meet me in the conference room at three
I have something important to tell thee
bring the team with you and you must
not leave until you tie up the loose ends
and transfer the lion out of the den.
Ego is flying from tree to tree absorbing my
innate energy we have wasted so much time
up and down the galaxy looking for that single
proof that water is on the roof the distance you
travel to merge day into night is over a million
miles and you repeat the pattern from time to time.
At the stroke of a pen you have shaken the world
with just one word you have broken the deal
spilling venom on the street, all the work that
was done in previous years has suddenly
disappeared in thin air
and we are right back where we begin.
What are you going to do?
are you going to let your pride falls
through the roof you have got to change
gears before the universe disappears, the
people are crying desperately over there
and there is no one to care.
Some things are just not feasible
for they create lots of evil
you have to make a lot of adjustment for them to
make sense, you are walking on thin line
and you must change gears to get it right
For what reason did you brought me here
when you have created so much fear
the damage is already done and destiny is on the run
It is not the time to brag and boast or indulge
In self-praise, make up a different agenda
some executive plans will not work
they will sink right into the earth
and leave some men without shirt
Take the meat off the bone
and make a call to the Vatican
in Rome you have got to get
everyone on the same page
Lest you wipe out the human race
You have to change the gears
and eliminate the factor that
is causing people to fear
Trade in all the stick-shift
and begin the negotiation at six.
“a little time to give... a little time to live, time always means so much”
Before I knew it, I could retire, everyone said it would be so great,
Having nursed for 37 years I got full pension so I took the bait.
The first few weeks I slept in and did things I never had time to do,
Then I found those things got boring, the time no longer flew.
First I did the self-help thing, got into exercise and joined a Gym,
Started a new diet, lost 65 pounds, boy I actually looked slim.
Got a new hair cut and colour, went out and bought new clothes,
Thought I’d become a better human being, but then who knows.
Signed up for a watercolour class to improve how I painted,
This transformation somehow made me feel somewhat tainted.
I expanded my horizon with broadway shows and art displays,
Yet my retired life felt empty, I seemed to be wasting my days.
So I sat down and thought about what it is that I truly love,
What fulfills my soul - I had to give my brain a little shove.
Returning to basics, at the bedside is where I want to be,
I decided to volunteer at a hospice, palliative care is for me.
Supporting dying people and their family, to be caring is all I want,
Listening to their struggles and life’s stories always continues to haunt.
Working at Day Hospice we provide support for the respite stay,
In addition I visit patients at home, so the caregiver can get away.
The touch of a hand, the warmth of a hug is so very little to give,
These people have limited time, only a few days or hours to live.
Often unsettled before the person dies, they need to tie up loose ends,
So I do whatever is required, for the person who wants to make amends.
If I can make a person’s last moments, ones that are filled with peace,
Comforting the family, sitting quietly as the person’s last breaths cease.
My life will not be wasted and I no longer have the urge to read MacBeth,
My retirement and work at hospice allows me to love my patients to death.
Written by Lee Ramage
August 30, 2011
For A Rambling Poet’s contest
“A Poem- Please”
Placement- 4th
The world of mere dreams
Death matching birth
Lets no survival
A dream became genuine
In the world of dreams
Crossing the gate of death
To go single
A terrifying dream
A pain like a king
Ruling the whole kingdom of body of Ibrahim
A blanket of sadness covering the heart
The set of eyes refusing retire
In the night of death silence
A decade full of prayers of Ibrahim became a child-
Ismail,
Same fondling hands with the aroma of love
To dig a grave for the son born to live
The divinely command to Ibrahim
An acid test for good faith
The dream to uproot the family tree
Go ahead,pushed Ibrahim his courage at his old age
To wet him sweat,
Let the knife to run on the neck of Ismail
Refused to cut the the knife sharpen like a throne
The command of God,Ibrahim to slaughter
But for the knife not!
In a world hunting for treasure for pleasure
Dedication sits rare
Ibrahim in other nature
To dedicate his son,his good hope
In the name of God
A tag to tie up on the face of dedication
To remember
Until this world in the last number
God-
Made him a beginning
Nothing in need
Created,all living beings
But in care allowing non to make him
Bears none his kin
Being single,
God,
Brought all beings in pairs
To maintain his stand,oneness
Surprised God!
At Ibrahim,
His attempt to slaughter Ismail-
The seed of the tree of relation
Set to grow spreading branches of generation
Surprised God!!
Put his hands of friendship
On the shoulders of Ibrahim
"Kaleelullah"-
The friend of God
Friendship also a relationship
Ibrahim,
The friend of God
The only relation in the name of God!
In rewarding Ibrahim
For obeying his command
In dedicating his son for God's sake
God wished Ibrahim his pale
The only relation in the name of God over the whole planets!
"Eidul Azha" today,
A day to remember prophet Ibrahim,
The depth of his dedication,
The reward, "Kaleelullah" the noble award from the hands of God!
-Dharga Nagar Safa
(This poem is published to mark Hadj festival)
Winter is hiding around the bend and forcing its way towards the center, it is carrying a hundred thousand shovels in a boat and generators pile up to its throat.
Hundreds of snow boots, gloves and battery made heaters lay flat on top, snow blowers galore and insulators to line the floor. Hundreds of wheel barrows and bags of barbecue coal to heat the house and everything you need for winter was on the boat.
It is docked around the corner with an elephant standing guard waiting on the signal to move.
The weather pattern is not right; you have got to roll the dice to get the weather pattern back on track to ripen the fruits and furnish the ingredients for the one pot soup.
You must go back to the international space station and check the angle of the moon and position the weather spoon, before the sun rises, then place a snow bait on top of the gate, before day break.
Something has shifted up there and is causing chaos down here, you must find it and repair it before noon. Observe where the rain is falling and where the fire is burning. Place a tag over it and mend it with your spit.
The year is coming to a close, and you have got to tie up the loose ends and get everyone back in line to cooperate with the divine. You have to examine all the countries on the list and make an offer that they cannot resist.
Once the list is clear and everyone must draw near, those who refuse to join will be cut out off permanently from the divine. You will recall your ambassador and cut off all international flight that go to their land and cancel all foreign aid, trade and business transaction.
And withdraw the multitude from their land the multitude will leave before dawn.
The one pot soup is easier to cook; the one pot soup is in my playbook, read it carefully and gathers the ingredients from every culture on the list and combine them together and give everyone a bowl to partake of the one pot soup.