Long Toulouse Poems
Long Toulouse Poems. Below are the most popular long Toulouse by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Toulouse poems by poem length and keyword.
i read and hear online the words
from the other side of the world,
the bearded angst and deeply rutted face
of a soul with far, far too much
sorrow to carry.
my eyes well, as i
cannot help but too,
share in the sorrow
of the loss born by
farmer Muhammad Wazir
Muhammad, from Panjwai district lost:
his mother, Shakarina,
his wife, Zahra,
his four daughters,
Massoma, Farida, Palwasha and Bibya
two of his sons,
Ismatullah and Faizullah,
a brother, Akhtar,
a nephew and
a sister-in-law
Only the youngest son
Habib Shah is still alive
How can a father, a husband,
a son, a brother, bare it?
"I loved them all like
they were parts of my body,...
All my dreams are buried
under a pile of dust now"
Wazir states. "My little boy,
Habib Shah, is the only one
left alive, and I love him
very much" says Wazir.
I have a hard time
with the concept that it
must be God's will
to condemn anyone to this
Did Staff Sgt. Robert Bales
snap like a twig in the
wanton disregard to sanctity
of children and mothers...
civilians. Who can forgive?
...Who can stand it?
Bales' wife Karilyn sends
"condolences to all the people
of the Panjawai District ...
especially to the parents,
brothers, sisters and grandparents
of the children who perished"
Though heartfelt to be sure
she must realize that Bob
is beyond "normal" forgiveness
A strength like the Amish
is needed to look into
enraged hate filled eyes
with tearful forgiveness
What good...what good can
we possibly squeeze from
such tragic carnage?
Maybe God knows that answer.
I can only feel the sorrow.
meanwhile in Toulouse, France
Mr. Mohammed Merah,
a Frenchman of Algerian decent
knows in his heart that
retribution is necessary
and three French paratroopers,
of North African descent,
as well as a Rabbi and
three Jewish schoolchildren,
pay with their lives
the Rabbi, and his two daughters
might have been aware of their
responsibility for the Panjwai
tragedy, perhaps not,
....{continued in 2of2}
© Goode Guy 2012-03-21
We humans like all creatures to have a purpose, an aim,
From one-celled amoebas to fungi-spore glebas,
They need a good reason to compete in life's game.
Consider cats: They school us in hygiene
Licking their paws and their fur shiny clean.
And how 'bout tiny ants, who teach us industry,
Or lions and their bravery--and foxes with their knavery?
But what reason have seahorses to be in the sea?
What can they teach us? How can they enlighten you or me?
Can they sing or dance? Can they 'cut a rug' in the water?
And if they can't, do you really think they should ought to?
Well, please know that things aren't quite what they seem.
Seahorses are special, unique, and highly esteemed;
In the eye of the sea, they're jewels, all sparkle and gleam.
See the distinctive manner wherewith these fish swim:
Upright! propelling themselves ever higher via dorsal fins.
Then there's the spectacle of seahorse sex and mating--
No other males on the planet hold the eggs while waiting
To release them of a sudden by the thousands at a time,
And then go back at it with their 'exes' on the turn of a dime.
All this leads up to how traditional Chinese physicians
Prescribe 'seahorses' for whatever their patients get sick in:
Everything from wheezing and pain to inducing labor,
With TCM's** practitioners, these fish are ever in favor.
It's clear, my fellow humans,
From Peking to Paris and on to Toulouse,
Seahorses can certainly be put to very good use...
*****
...Prompting this little 'caboose:'
Let US ask this question: Is human activity equally productive?
---Or do WE choose to engage in things far more destructive?
April 19, 2018
**TCM = Traditional Chinese Medicine
{continued 2of2}...
the third girl took her
bullet reluctantly but
Mr. Mohammed Merah believes
in an eye for an eye
i wonder if Mr. Muhammad Wazir
would have preferred to take
his farming plowshare,
beat it into a sword
and bring writhing attrition
to still more children.
i think...i prefer to think,
that Mr. Muhammad Wazir, 35,
of Panjwai, Afganistan,
would tell Mr. Mohammed Merah, 24,
of Toulouse, France
that children are innocent
not just in God's eyes,
but in truth, in his too,
that killing only begets more killing
Alas, it is too late for Merah's merit,
and the sky still shines blue
© Goode Guy 2012-03-21
http://www.npr.org/2012/03/20/148974952/afghan-farmer-lost-11-relatives-in-shooting-rampage
http://www.npr.org/blogs/thetwo-way/2012/03/20/148976984/all-my-dreams-are-buried-under-a-pile-of-dust-now-says-grieving-afghan?ft=1&f=1001
http://www.npr.org/blogs/thetwo-way/2012/03/21/149080247/sifting-through-what-we-know-about-the-french-slaying-suspect
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052702304636404577294632810920116.html?mod=googlenews_wsj
It took fifty-seven paces to the end of the track
But for some strange reason, only fifty-six back.
I tried it again, for something to do
While constantly phoning for breakdown rescue.
The ants were enormous, the grasshoppers blue
Inside of their wings only showed when they flew.
Thistles and lavender, cornflowers too,
But mostly just tarmac, a magnificent view.
Of the village below, a distant haze
Whilst here on the hill, we’ve been waiting for days.
Well that’s how it seems here in the heat,
A broken down car, my life at my feet;
Two tents and three cases
A bag full of shoes,
Four roll mats, gas cooker
And a map of Toulouse.
Wet suits and sun hats
A blow-up canoe,
Cool box and sun cream
A deck chair or two.
There are pillows for night time
A towel for the beach,
Two picnic rugs
And a goodie bag each.
“You can take what you like,
if it fits in the boot”
I spy a small gap
And fill it with loot.
The back seat is clear
Tunnel’s booked for tonight
We’re off and our hols
And we’re travelling light.
Just a big overgrown kid, my Bruce
Wanting to hit the road and vamoose
Dreams of conducting a caboose
Go all the way up to Toulouse
Bruce refuses to grow up, what’s the use
He can rhyme off one of many old excuse
And sometimes swears to All and to Zeus
Bruce wasn’t always this way, something came loose
He’s become simple yet ever so abstruse
Can’t differentiate a moose from a goose
Doesn’t have a clue what to do with his papoose
The best we could do was come to a truce
Now they both get an afternoon nap after their juice
Sometimes I feel like a recluse
But never a victim of abuse
Or that life dealt me a deuce
When Bruce smiles he can still seduce
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Posted on March 17, 2018
In paranormal grief,
ectoplasm drifts down Peters Street
then winds deeper into the Quarter
searching for his haunt –
a corner table at Galatoire’s
where ghost writers meet,
but table and spirits
are no longer around.
Painted white chairs
from under the wisteria
at the Court of Two Sisters
drift out to see
cause for the mournful silence
of Preservation Hall.
And at Rue Toulouse,
room number nine
of Maison de Ville
waits weeping for her lover’s return.
No more seeds will be planted
in the dark furrows of Elysian Fields.
Only one colored lantern at 632
remains to light the way
for the kindness of strangers
he somehow knew
we’d all come to depend upon…
today.
Translated from the Slovakian
I enlisted with the god of second chances
Knowing my chances were second to none.
I surrendered my soul and my passport
When I entered my new life’s routine
In service to the colors of France.
I’d pledged my honor and fidelity,
Or whatever romantic sh*te was required,
When I’d earned my coveted ticket
For the train ride from Marseilles to Toulouse.
A sheep that's learned to fill itself on meat.
The training was tough, but the treatment humane.
Not like the nonsense portrayed in the movies.
But I was prepared to march or die
On the day I was given my name,
Vojak Bojovnik, Légion étrangère.
THIS SPACE RESERVED FOR
DIEN BIEN PHU
Color'in books AND crayO.La looks
with a smile wondering while she
might be craZy or knot.ting a note
hear it ring from a ;ping! and a ling
a long song sing.ing over and over.
Again.
What's the color of my pen?
mmmm...
violettes de toulouse.
Sugar ;)
The flowers, leaves and roots of various Viola species are used for medicinal purposes,
being rich in vitamins A and C. They also contain a type of antioxidant called an
anthocyanin. Viola flowers are also used to make an herbal tea that is used in Chinese
herbal medicine...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Violet_(plant)
purrr pple... be sweet and be well.
Form:
i won’t forget the times when i made roundish letters
in blue-black ink
as if i were crushing blackberry beads
perfumed and wild
and in the eyes of that man by chance
it was always the same toulouse-lautrec painting
with my watery blue dress
like a cloud in an armchair the color of rose petals
frozen rotted in november
with his checkered hat thrown
accidentally over my raincoat
i wondered too much
why he squeezed the whole sun between his teeth
while laughing
i continued to write about the dreams
like white dead pigeons
my lord
with the heart shielded between wings