Long Vines Poems
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In the middle of the moonlit valley,
there stood an old haunted house, all alone.
Weeds and woody vines weaving up its frame,
pulling the old house down with endless groan.
There stood an old haunted house, all alone,
windows broken, and midst of roof caved in
pulling the old house down with endless groan.
Hollow groan gets deeper its tainted sin.
Windows broken and midst of roof caved in,
weeds and woody vines weaving up its frame.
Hollow groan gets deeper its tainted sin.
In the middle of the moonlit valley.
10/3/2019
Poetry Contest: Poet's October Pantoum'
Sponsored By: William Kekaula
How Many Syllables
Galaxies of glory
Strikes me vigorously
Stars do shine
Like turning wine
You are mine like guitar strings
You're my serpentine swine (holding unto someone that's stubborn)
I am like a butterfly without wings
Darkness will not veil His illumination
Galaxies of glory is our passionate destination
Illusions of delusional delight
Is seen in your eyes that ignite
Arising agony is spiritual suffering
In the black hole of obscurity
Left unnoticed...envy glows and grows in a hurry
Wondering if you guys
Can wander off like dragon flies
Vines of vibrant, never-ending vivaciousness
Crawl...in my veins
Authentic radiance reduces me to this universe mess
Go drive in your lanes
Froward heart,
Listen please
Before you blast off
Into your rebellious space
Speechless,
I must confess
You're conveying a message of your eustress
Transforming hopes into distress...in large excess
Thorough thoughtfulness
Will delete your senselessness
Foolish fire devours my wisdom empire
Good luck, for I'm wishing upon His grace
You're my inspiration
And my motivation
Scoffer, mocker - who is the creator?
Isn't it His true desire?
Liar,
Listen to His truth and knowledge
Understand that I'm on edge...
Failures without a trace,
Give up your success and embrace
Galaxies of glories...galaxies of mere glories
And stop listening to bittersweet allegories
That is as adorable as rainbow cat purrs
And delectable, creative dandelion furs
Today is a wonderful day
Today shines bright when you say
You love me positively...
We're seeking ecstasy...
Next to sun-beaming sea
Today is going by slowly,
But my heart ain't beating with remorse or angstiety
Reluctantly,
I smile halfheartedly
Please don't stop the epic music
It's extremely therapeutic, it's so sick
I'm a true, genius writer
But, doubt slips into the heart of the poet...
I'm like a black widower -
Envy, gluttony and hatred left me with regret...
I have nothing to lose
You have to choose
The light side of me
Or the dark side of me...
Because you'll finally see...
That I'm not perfect, baby
It was like the sun did not rise
and mourning birds sang
no morning melody.
The heavens were so grey,
pouring like Noah's floods,
preparing me for the storm,
which drowned my heart.
I felt like a butterfly helpless against the wind.
I had no time to build an ark
nor to sail towards those uneven paths,
which would allow me to hear your last breath.
Maybe hold your hand and hear you
call my name one last time.
I will never forget that moment of silence,
when the world seemed to pause
and I feel, I'm still standing still,
feeling numb, unable to express myself,
so I supress myself.
Waiting for the birds to sing.
To trigger suppressed sentiments,
but there is no metaphor for this void I feel,
like the emptiness of the room,
where you would say;
"my prince has come home"
You would always ask if I was hungry,
still force me to eat when I was not.
Together we would pick
sweet grapes from those vines,
which ran high up against
your sage veranda.
You would always bring out
the pot I cracked,
when I was six,
saying with a nostalgic look;
"Hands of my first grandson broke this."
How you would treasure such memories.
The season of death has returned,
to steal my jewel away from me.
I look in dismay at discoloured fallen leaves,
scattered like my emotions.
Will those fruits ever taste the same,
now that your precious hands cannot pick them?
Who will treasure what I broke?
You used to always call grandpa's name,
now I know you are together again.
Mama still calls for you,
I say to myself, she has gone, mum,
as has her laughter and her smile.
There will be no more hugs,
no one to call nanna now.
The sky still remains dark,
but the floods seem to be easing
and
I know one day the sun will return,
as will the birds,
singing in your remembrance.
Five years is a long time, but not long enough to forget things,
nostalgic memories, flashed before me
as if it was yesterday,
I remembered everything about our old house
the porch covered with vines,
fence lined with ferns,
garden in the backyard,
how whispers of the trees could be heard,
during the dead silence of night.
My rosette had won first prize in school competition,
I had run and showed that to everyone in the village,
I opened my purse looked at my precious memory,
only to keep it back safely.
Everything around had changed,
the road, the shops,
I had to stop the car and ask the way to my own house!
it was somewhat amusing, how swiftly things change.
Hope home would be same as before,
hope everything has not fallen down as rubble,
roof had cracks, even staircase needed repair,
hope the window had not broken over the years.
Thoughts raced to max,
that is what I lovingly called him,
he was a Street dog,
I would feed him regularly,
I would even give him a bath.
As I entered the village, I could hear sounds of barking
Was it max?...
He was standing at the door of my old home,
jumping, yelping, barking in joy.
As I got down, he literally pounced on me,
paws all over me, licking me,
wagging his tail vigorously.
Tears fell down my cheeks,
he had waited all these years hopeful of my return.
I saw tears in Max's eyes.
I went back home with wonderful memories and max,
I couldn't leave him their.
Neck a smooth, cylindrical mold
As sheathe with fibers carefully rolled
Pale, satin sheen artfully scrolled
Grace on soft, silky strands doled
In light, silted hologram to behold
Calamus breathes through each fold
Herbal essence from tight pores cajoled
Swabbed cheeks cloud high cheek bone
Naturally brushed with light coppertone
Puffy mounds rise from savory scone
Cherry gum drops brim o'er mascarpone
Cherubic glow of a polished sandstone
Exuding savory Rose scent laced with pheromone
Nature's stimulants, a nurtured love to hone
Bosom, gilded vines on terraced grove
Sprouting cherries, fertile arrow of Jove
Dangling from chest sealing frothy trove
Coarse sifted mounds, plump kneaded loaves
Descending into a deep, musky cove
U-shaped funnel vents steaming stove
Releasing mellow aroma of a sweet clove
Bring peace to God eye
Power of heart at will
Helped beyond our hills
Further than our thoughts
Made us think a lot
Centre of thee
Walking free
Find the answer
In which you wonder
God hearts of loyalty
Made me see
The earth as it was intended
Not this one invended
Within our faith of eternity
God shall guide thee
Jesus answered this young girl
He unchained the love of our world
Young or old
Jesus loves all precious souls
Our vines of tenor
Shall be heard forever
Our dreams we are to have
Will outdo all nav
From the love of past
These words shall last
Guided by the Holy Spirit
No false prophet shall mirror it
Maybe Tomorrow Night?
by Odin Roark
Early last night
thinking got heavy.
Uncomfortable feelings crept in.
The mix was,
I don't know…
Revealing, I guess.
How much?
How much is one person supposed to carry?
How strong this body thin?
Have I not hammered enough nails,
untangled enough twisted synaptic vines?
When will it be finished,
this lean-to in the forest of high-rise expectancies,
these mindscapes where insomniacs of abandoned conscience
meet persistent awareness in flames?
Is there only sitting alone on empty subway cars
careening through express stops,
where ghosts of ancient ether float suspended,
waving their giddy hands as the blur passes,
where the burning midnight oil insistence
searches for better light,
illuminated dream signs,
visions that never cease?
That was before I reached the last stop,
climbed the stairs into midnight darkness,
listened to my cacophony of silence,
pushed through that familiar door,
straddled my stool at O'Riley's,
made my pencil write,
while five and dime glassware
became faceted crystal of my dreams,
sloshing melted memories about,
elbowing their way into napkin after napkin,
crossed out words after crossed out words,
caramel river after caramel river,
finding my liver oh so accommodating.
Later last night,
I found my perch atop the familiar railing.
You know,
the same one as before,
and before,
and before,
studying the arc.
Did you know water runs deepest
when you know it's really the right time?
And they keep telling me two-hundred feet
allows plenty of gravity to collect.
But…
They've got me in this awful green room again.
Took my pencil.
Gave me a crayon.
Black this time.
Words don't care.
Curls and lines.
Paper doesn’t care.
Late last night,
they said I had to stay awhile.
Again, you know,
‘til I convinced them, again
that I'm all here,
all together,
just a little lonely,
no harm.
You know,
I'm thinkin'
there's gotta be another way,
you know.
Better than making you up all the time.
Maybe we could meet,
you and me.
Coffee.
Nothin’ fancy.
Just...
Maybe early
tomorrow night,
before my believin’ gets heavy again.
Maybe?
Sweetheart?
The Old Rusty Gate
Bright sunbeams puddle on a summer road,
Lazy bumblebees rise up with the heat,
Leads to a rusty gate, mysteries bode,
Barrier opens wide, invites come retreat.
A garden gate where pale lilac plumes lounge,
Secluded secrecy of hollyhocks,
Where snarled blackberry vines freely abound
With tangled climbing roses and white phlox.
Abandoned garden grows in wild array
Behind the gate that each day spawns more rust
Untended briars – forlorn nights - sad days –
Footpaths clog with the spells of ragged dusts.
Season’s pass, erase footprint signatures
‘Til life blooms from rusty gate overtures.
6-23-22
Contest: One in Five
Sponsor: Joseph May
Title Chosen: The Old Rusty Gate
Home is where everything is said to be born
and border is where we learn to say goodbye
from home. When two rivers meet we call a confluence
but when two borders kiss we say its war
then home has sure been a thorn
so we wish we were never born in that home
call thorn or be reborn from a fresh new stem
then we call home exile and exile home when
our border becomes an exit map to a new land,
may be America bring us on board, point us to
a new line so we cry to mother earth to save us
from the claws of SARS, marching & chanting
In unisons Endsars! Endsars! Endsars!
Our placards raised up high above our heads
as our mind sing, before more of us become
plates of black-eyed peas as our fallen heroes
bodies sank like satin dipped a red berry bathtub
Our own motherland has drank of her owns
children wine like vines she pressed they smashed
the fiery bullets is falling things apart
Our ancestors graves shook as the sounds of those
carnivorous spears thrust through their children's
skulls ravaging every parts of their bones to powders
because when you get to the end, you start to realize
what important to you Cos' in the end the only thing
that actually matters is love/ blood/ family
By
Gideon Idudje
The winds raged, the rain pelted
The air howled like a mad wolf, hungry for blood
Fright gripped me with ice cold claws
And I did not feel safe from inside my house
I armed myself with courage, aware that rainbows
Shall show themselves after some time
And the warmth of the sun
Shall allow me to wear my confidence again
As I usually do, like a prized accessory!
Yet, when the house got lifted up
By powerful invisible hands,
I found myself in the heart of the storm
Surrounded by a play of nature so out of my grip
That I could not even hear my voice as I cried out for help!
But then I saw you, handing out a hand to me
Reaching for me and grasping me in a tight hug
And I turned calm again as the pace of your breath
Matched with mine and the thumping of your heart beats
Bid me to forget the havoc wreaking all around me
And to hear the calming and mellifluous tunes of a flute
As it played our favorite song, that same which had always
Held us together ever since we locked eyes with each other
And allowed vines to grow from our hearts to tie us together!
The storm may rage, the storm may destroy my environment
But as long as I shall have you in my heart,
Life shall always be calm, stable and comforting!