Reposting Poems

HOME

HOME* 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
night is full of dreams
imagination runs free
my heart finds its home

*Note: This poem was published in June, 2025 at Poetry Soup. (poetrysoup.com › poem › home_1740703). I deleted it but am reposting. This is my original poem.

Remembering Winged Warrior

Four and a half years ago we lost a fine poet, 
a knightly gentleman, and a friend to many of us.  
I'm reposting my tribute to him today.  

Warrior is an adjective used for a hero or a knight
I knew one, briefly, whose wings have taken flight
Not just a fine poet was John, but also very kind
Generous and caring, is how he would be defined
Endearing was his 'love and light' message to all
Departed now, but his memory I will always recall

With words of tribute, I honor his humorous wit
Always a positive attitude, he was a candle ~ lit
Rest peacefully, ^WW^ ~ You're missed, my friend
Reflecting Ripples is a poem John sadly penned
In it he wrote about "shadows" and "silent sorrows"
Oh, If from fate, I could be the one who borrows
Respite from death, you'd have more tomorrows

Oil Spill

Note this poem was written some time ago but I was sick and deleted my site.  I have been patiently reposting my poems since 9 October 2000.

On November 13, 2002. The Prestige, one of twelve tanks burst during a storm off Galicia, in northwestern Spain.  No help was forthcoming and by November 19, the ship split in half.  20 million gallons were spilled into the sea.  


Beneath the heavy dark clouds,
the storm broke.
An oil-filled tanker sank
spewing black lakes of murderous slime.
 
What a giant "Prestige"!

Despite the roar of untamed waves
there was a deadly hush over the ocean.
A low death knell sang a purgatory of pain,
as contaminated birds of gulls, orioles, kestrels 
squawked their last dirge:

What a giant "Prestige"!

Too late men stretched their ingenuity,
a desire to save and spare
the livelihood of so many families
that sailed the oil-spilled seas,
where baby dead fish dotted the surface,
sands and rocks tainted with death.
Elsewhere engineers burned their chemical gases
and smoke escaped from the earth's fragile shell.
 
We all have our "Prestige"!

Written 2016

Greedy Poaching

Rhino poachers often hunt at night
When the Rhino has poor eye sight.
These prehistoric creatures
Cannot distinguish human features.
But with a well-developed sense of smell
Fortunately they can always tell
When danger or a poacher is close,
Thanks to their sensitive nose.
Every horn that they take back,
And Rhino body that they hack,
Is yet more money in their belt,
To which no sentiment is felt.
Subsistence Poachers who randomly
Kill, fit a less important role,
Their profit cannot compare,
To syndicates with international flair!
These professionals are sourced 
From a military career,
Using weapons and tactics that
Inflict unimaginable pain and fear.
Rhinos are darted from the air,
Without hesitation or human care.
Some Rhinos are found still half alive,
And veterinary surgeons rush to help
Them survive,
But could these same people perhaps
Be involved and accept,
These horrific acts, could they in fact,
Be suspect?
Will Rhinos become extinct, 
This is a worrying fear,
Statistics do indicate that this scenario,
Is realistically near!

REPOSTING FROM A POEM 2018 WHEN I JOINED POETRY SOUP

Another Winter Star

***I am reposting this poem as I think it is my finest poetic creation.  I feel the imagery of the piece and its 'fabled' characters are cohesive to create a positive environment that reflects the star's light of hope; the 3rd stanza and the poem's final lines  provide a natural  summation of metaphysical  realities that incur from human emotion and suggests  that we all come from the same mold and thus we are not the cause of ourselves; 'a theistic natural priori in the belief of God through the poetic endeavour.'



I awoke to find the tall splendor of the world,
in those cosmic canyons,
shearing darkness ----
in the pallet of some ethereal night;
ancient with desire.....
to Illume the thick shadow of hades itself 

Not death nor mortal doubt
couldst thou flee from me,
mighty as Aphrodite ----
Shooting thy silver smile 
beautiful as heaven's promise!

In your shimmering I see hope,
for the heart which beholds thy majesty 
the world could fade,
yet you remain.....
a friendly face if none should be found,
but you.....
that thou Creator dost reveal;
my soul,
ageless as thee
(am spun from the same loom)

New Year's Eve - Repost

New Year’s Eve

I need to feel the trade winds blow
To know they have my heart in tow,

Here in the twilight of this hour
I feel the grandeur of God’s power.

The Sun, a ball of golden fire
Rises with my heart’s desire

That this New Year will offer love
As Sol begins to rise above.

How wonderful, the winter sky—
With mist filled clouds that float on by.

Sweet birds of beauty on the wing,
Portends the gifts New Year will bring.

© Connie Marcum Wong

My Muse is the New Year
Contest: Ekphrasis 12 Line Max
Sponsored by Rick Parise

*Note: I am reposting this poem because I am unable to edit the title. 2014

Smile

I could have stood out there in the darkness
Close my eyes and wait for the light of day
There were those things that you knew about me
I wasn't comfortable in that glaring light
I had walked both broad and narrow roads
And it felt like I was all alone

I wanted to stay out there in the dark
I wanted the night, the falling dew to cover me
Then maybe I wouldn't feel so incomplete
I didn't mean to spurn that open door
From where your solitary light streamed
I was in love but I felt so alone

You smiled, opened my eyes, I hadn't seen you
You were sure, but I had my doubts, I was afraid
You took my words, those unworthy trinkets
Made them into everything great and quaint
Don't close that door, I will come in when sure
Just smile and I am not alone

Written on 03/16/2017
Removed it, now am reposting it

Giddy Up Pony

An amigo has accused me of reposting some oldies
What kind of deviant does he think I am, this old crony
I'm respectable as hell
But I do have my spells
When there's no response I just yell “giddy up pony!!!”

The Undercurrent

the undercurrent pulls 
drawing me down
to murky dark depths
where sinister abounds

the undercurrent pulls
my body it sweeps
pulling my out
its anger it keeps

the undercurrent draws
a turbulent tempt
it tumbles my heart
with vehement intent

the undercurrent rages
But I'm sturdy and strong
adept in the water
for that's where I belong

the undercurrent subsides
I'm floating serene
my eyes see the sun
I still live, I still dream

Eileen Manassian

Reposting another deleted poem....

Under Your Wings

when under your wings
my heart was safe and secure  ~*~
why did they unfold? 

Eileen Manassian

Another one of my deleted poems....Reposting. :) I really like the picture that goes with this one.

Her Hypocrisy

To subdue passion and to veil her soul
She dresses cravings sweet in bland disguise
A righteous life to live does take its toll
And brings the tears unbidden to her eyes

A woman bowing down to culture’s norm
Must be demure and coy, not fierce and bold
Forbidden her desire in wanton form
And so the flame dies out and life turns cold

Yet deep within her heart the embers lie
Their savage smolder felt through tortured night
Her sensuality she must deny
Though from her play and sway it shines out bright

Her soul succumbs to this hypocrisy
A woman vowed to "moral" chastity 

Eileen Manassian

In parts of the Middle East young girls are still circumcised to prevent sensual cravings....I've written a poem about this for Richard Lamoureux's contest a while back. His contest was entitled, Girl Rising...and my poem was entitled, "Not too Late for Tears." This poem was written for another contest, but I did not enter it. I deleted it and am now reposting. It makes me sad when people don't understand the restrictions woman face due to culture and other factors when it comes to issues of their own sensuality. I wish people would be more understanding.

More To Me

Behind my smile
you cannot see the tears
between the lines
you cannot read my fears
in funny rhymes
you cannot feel my pain
in haughty words
you cannot taste the shame
in what I post
you cannot feel the beat
in pics I share
you cannot feel the heat
in what I say
you cannot hear my cries
in what I gift
you cannot see but lies

You cannot see 
what lies within my heart
You think you know
but you see just a part
There's more to me
than simple scribbled lines
There’s heart and soul,
A life beyond confines

Eileen Manassian

One of my deleted poems....There was a time I was contemplating leaving the Soup because of some hurtful events, and so I deleted some of my poems after I had saved them. My poems on this site are the truest copies because sometimes I edit while post. Unfortunately, hurtful things continue to happen, but I've been gifted a Lifetime membership by my dear friend Flo, and I'm not leaving. I'm slowly reposting some of those deleted writes. :) Thank you for reading...

He's a Word Casanova

He's a WORD Casanova
He butters them up
Gives sips from his cup
words syrupy sweet
a tasty love treat
makes the girls swoon
to his sensual croon

The Word Casanova

His words are his charm
they dismantle alarm
“sugar and spice”
and they gush..."OH…SO... NICE!"
Demanding submission
to his domination
He metes out a rule
and watches them drool

The Word Casanova

The thing that's obscene
In his plan, in his scheme
He plays and he preys
as his trap there he lays
he wants every one
each heart must be won
Not content to befriend
Wants much more in the end...

The Word Casanova

So he hurts and he maims
And they writhe as he blames...
Ladies….LADIES!!
It's just a game...a GAME
What a shame!

The Word Casanova

This is a poem I wrote some time ago but deleted when I was considering leaving this place. I'm slowly reposting my deleted poems. I'm fully aware that a woman can play this role as well....a Casanovette!  It is not gender specific

Born On the Goldhawk Road Two

My unusual physical appearance 
Was enhanced by a striking thinness, 
And enormous long-lashed blue eyes. 
Less charmingly, I was also the kind of 
Deliberately malicious little hooligan
Who'd remove some periodical 
From a neighbour's letter-box
And then mutilate it before reposting it.
The sixties' famed social and sexual revolution 
Was well under way, and yet for all that, 
Seminal Pop groups such as the Searchers
And the Dave Clark Five;
Even the Fab Four themselves, 
Were quaintly wholesome figures.
                                                                    
And in comparison to what was to come,
They surely fitted in well 
In a long vanished England 
Of Norman Wisdom pictures; 
And the well-spoken presenters 
Of the BBC Home Service,
Light Service and World Service, 
Of coppers and tanners 
And ten bob notes; 
And jolly shopkeepers 
And window cleaners.
At least that's how I see it, 
Looking back at it all
From almost half a century later.

Emotional Bar

"As a dog returneth to his vomit, so a fool returneth to his folly." - Proverbs 26:11 (KJ version)
 
Imploding glass into my martini
Hard liquor…hard glass
Shattering my soul and body
The visual alone left me dead drunk
Like a salty dog awaiting hell
I fell…before the glass ever emptied
Wondering the thoughts of those around
Though I lied and said I didn't care
Stranger's thoughts were everything to me
Honesty drained like a cold beer on a Sunday morning
Cornered by a truth that stings
Filled with pain and shards of acceptance
I was bent on worshiping this feeling
Because rain falls and cools the anger
Just as sorrow freezes the spirits

Glasses clank
No thought of joining—no intake
A watch always from afar
A flash of relish for this emotional bar

Everything melted like a dream
I was awake in this stupor on the kitchen floor
Tired, naked, writhing in vomit
Lapping it up like whiskey
Only to extricate all of it again

-do excuse these...just reposting some oldies that I had taken off for a time for evaluation and revision..-

• Short Reposting Poems
• Famous Reposting Poems
• Best Reposting Poems
• Read Reposting Poems
• Long Reposting Poems
• Reposting Quotes