Long Turn back Poems
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Author Dana Redricks
January 23, 2017
I can’t give up
I can’t give in
So many times, I feel like
Giving up
But I realize those in Christ
Are victorious in the end
I’ve been through too much to
give up now
I've been through the storms and
I’ve been through the rain
I’ve had my heart broken
And it seems it was the end
But I can’t give up and
I can’t give
So many times, I feel like
Giving up
But I realize those in Christ
Are victorious in the end time
and time again my Heavenly
Father has never given up me
He has always been, by my side
I can’t give up and I can’t give in
I come too far to turn back now
Jesus is so near I almost can see him
Bright as the morning
His love reaches us no matter
Where we are
I can’t give up
I can’t give in
I can't give up now
I observe her from across the room, and I ask myself, is she real. Her long raven black hair falls softly across her shoulders. A gorgeous smile that brightens the entire room, is exquisitely accented only by her soft brown bedroom eyes.
I stare at her intently, taking in her every movement, everyone else seemed to disappear as she stood alone. As she looks in my direction, I quickly turn away, as if I am unworthy to gaze upon her beauty. To me, she is untouchable, my body melts at the thought of being near her.
I asked someone if they knew who she was, and I learn that her name is Charlotte, such a lovely name that brought a lump to my throat. As I continue to gaze, her allure was painfully overpowering. It is if my heart was slowly being pulled out of my chest.
I look away, trying to compose myself, trying to get back to reality. The vision of this woman is leaving me hollowed out inside. Either I walk away, or I break this fear holding me away. As I turn back, my stomach tightens like a knot, Charlotte was gone. I missed my chance, but her memory will always be with me.
V.M. Tackett
Oh dear, what can the matter be?
Some thoughts have come to me
that God knows as much of me,
But how, alas! how may that be
love comes to all the rest but me?
O wily wind go find and tell me
on a tree how many leaves there be
or fishes swimming in the vast sea?
Not lost yet, although I like to be
amid the stars in the heavens I see.
Oh dear, what can the matter be?
What a strange spell is come over me
that I should dance and shout in glee?
Should not I be more inclined to flee
where a fair wind blows fresh and free
and sail through life’s tempestuous sea
lest I turn back and there’s nothing to see;
I lie in your hands O death, pray be kind to me
Fly away breath, set this weary wayfarer free!
~02/01/18
~Laura Loo"s February Favorite contest
~2018 Best Rhyming Poem contest by John Hamilton
When I awoke, a woman I'd become
The spirit of many, contained in one
Strength and beauty, mystical tears
Magical entity, who hated mirrors
Looking at reflection, I seen my flaws
Yet in the background, I heard much applause
Others seen me, with much different eyes
I listened to their voices, discarded my lies
The blood of creation, flowed in my veins
A brave warrior, a vision with brains
Nurture and strength, complicated friend
Passion personified, a master of pretend
Layers of lovely, deeper than a well
If you love me, I have a secret to tell
Loyal and fierce, sometimes hiding my face
Push me to far, I'll be gone without a trace
My day had ended, time to go to bed
Still words unspoken need to be said
Yet in the end I turn back into a man
Enriched by women, I am who I am
In honour of women on their special day
By: Richard Lamoureux
Within the depths of my soul
Lies unbearable pain
The type of pain no one would want to feel
Plus, this heart of mine carries a heavy load
That at times, I just want to explode
What can I do?
But cry uncontrollably
Until my tears become a sea
There's nothing I would not do
Than to rise again
And turn back the hands of time
When I was full of life
Still, I don't understand why
I'm not the same person I used to be
Back in the days when I was firm and strong
And completely stress-free
How I remember those times
Walking with my head held high
Now, in this day and age
All I do is keep my head down
Drown in self-pity and give in to sadness
It seems like a never-ending cycle
But despite the suffering I face on a daily basis
I will fight until I conquer and rise again.
I can tell you that the edge of oblivion is a
comforting place for the wise
Oblivious to the wondering eyes of the layman
that watch, things are seen just as they are
All it takes is a few steps on par with the others
& before you know it, you're in the void
At this point of no return, there's no space to
renig as you've come too far to turn back
You must now face the affronts perpetrated upon
the self as these acts of
friendly fire help to destroy true identity
Quickly burn these bridges with a passion & prove
your affinity to the flame that
spurred you to that point
The joint venture was sparked by the light & dark
parts of you
in order for both to get the others
point of view
It's the edge that shows us who we are inside
& who we need to be
if only we're willing to take those steps
to be free
You see, the inner eye never lies but it can be
deceived by eyes on the outside
looking in
I invite you to go within & look upon oblivion
with eyes steeped in truth,
as this is where all truth lies & all bets are hedged
If there's one place you can visit to find yourself
it's oblivions edge
for losing yourself completely in its nothingness
allows you to embrace its true essence
which is wholeness
Multicolored hands dissolved the pain, that rose within me
You were there; certain you'd win your part in the ring
Condescension became sparks I used as light to see
I held to my song you sought to silence, by your sting
Once again, your buzz faded and you fell flat
Hold firm the religious reins of your horse, I say
I offered flowers; you strutted, and then turn back
I gave you your day, with garland and songs unforced
Self-made pedestal holds no sap like earth's wood
You may think me soft as gel, nay! I am mahogany!
Papa was carver of antiques from those trees, you understood...
His hands were guided by the Source, the root of my recovery.
*
When there's absolute silence in the creaking hut,
something spooky is bound to happen again,
and the haunting feeling seems to no avail;
any ghost's appearance makes my hair stand up!
There he stands laughing and frightening me...
the pirate with a silk eye patch, I hide underneath
the covers, not to let his outstretching hands grab me;
and is he a phantom or another underworld spirit?
I have read many stories of pirates, and one of them that intrigued the reader
was that of Captain Morgan as the most famous pirate in his time...he pillaged,
destroyed and killed causing chaos in the Caribbeans, and how clever
he was to abandon his ship and escape, hiding his treasure on some island!
This pirate with a silk eye patch once was called," Morgan, the Horrible!"
My skin is getting goose bumps, thinking of how bad he was...oh, it's so unthinkable!
I am shaking like a tiny mouse chased by a hungry, ferocious cat utterly unstoppable;
I flee from the bedroom and hide into a dark forest to hear the moan of a beast!
I turn back, but the door is shut...I turn the knob with caution,
there in the pitch-dark room he drinks his whiskey and dances alone;
I slide on the alcohol dripping from his dirty bottle, and as Morgan
tries to grab me, I run from his glaring and bloody eyes again!
And the pirate with a silk eye patch returned on many scary nights,
giving me chills and shivers haunting me until darkness faded away;
wait a minute...they aren't over yet...someone dressed in black knocks
on my front door, and sneering he says," Welcome to my Halloween party!"
How strange this world can be,
Full of its own mysteries
And secrets,
I have gotten all I wanted
And all I thought of,
But I am not happy.
I may have always been
At the receiving end of life,
But………
I seem to be
At the other side of midnight,
The other side of me,
I drink all day long
To drown my sorrows,
But it seems sorrows know how to swim.
As I now cry out,
Not knowing where I am
And what to do,
Seeing the grandchildren
Of the choices I have made
And the errors I did in the past.
Mourning and wishing
To turn back the hands of time,
To feel a self of mine,
Ooh!
So sweet is life gain from evil,
So sad is its end.
After all,
Is life not an elusion?
And death a reality?
When we got uprooted from the native place
the anchoring nook for driftwood was my mother
who built a deep shadow so no blazing sun I’d face,
strewn pieces of life from the debris I could gather.
She toiled day and night so very hard,
nurtured the sapling with love and utmost care,
opened a sky of hope for the tree growing in backyard,
for whatever I’ve made of myself today I owe her.
On the sea of life from her anchor I sailed away,
wished she had made a new home with me again.
Detached from abode of her heart nowhere she’d stay,
to dislodge her attached mind I tried many times in vain.
I should have refused to listen to her persistent plea,
for I regret she met her end on the lonely track.
I would bring her home to live with me,
if only the hands of time I could turn back.
October 8, 2019
Contest : If only we could turn back the hands of time
Sponsor : Silent One