The night winds, hollow—deep in nightmare well, I have peered down it countless
Times, only to find, see primal creatures climb, its slimy sides…!
The horrors deep within this well are horrors before the age of man, powers from
Vast terrestrial spheres, they transverse this well with slimy nightmares,
Give an endless span—; reeking pain within their jaws, claws and gaping hands.
What waits and broods deep in this looming well, I do not know for sure, perhaps:
Monstrous hieroglyphs—dim sunsets, dreams now beastly nightmares.
Against the twilight I have seen them rise—with their vast evil that never dies.
The demons wind echoes through pipes spinning to the top of the well—:
Grim and cold, oozed through the many corridors below….Thus, only the Moon
Sees what legends talk about; ages gone, and to come; hence, if you are sane,
Do not look down the well, unless you cannot help it: what a pity!...
#972 12/18/05
Inspired by, and Dedicated to the Poet Richard L. Tierney, and his poet friends from Arkham House
Imaginative Poetry (a commentary)
It is not my nature to tell people how to write poetry, or try to teach them how to, what is right or wrong. I simply feel for the beginner who wants to write, just read it to enjoy, throw away what you don’t like, make life simply, and then write; and when you’ve learned how to enjoy it, study it, then write some more. Like learning how to operate a computer, play with it for six weeks or so, then get some lessons if you wish.
Having said that, I want to share my view, or opinion, and that is all it is, an opinion, on some poetry, I call it digging into it, and some may say it is less or more, it doesn’t matter to me, I’m not trying to impress.
Does a cloud need a reason to pass over your lawn? I mean, does it need a voice, or a plot, or insight, or theme, or for that matter, does it need socialistic,or humanistic roots, to pass over. No, I don’t think so, and neither does imaginative poetry. Sometimes I like what I call, uninhibited poetry [unregulated], something like Plath’s I suppose. But I always like effect, have an effect on, influence. That is the main ingredients—effect=result. How you get it is another story. I feel imaginative power is similar to the cloud theory, and can supersede all those socialistic views I mentioned about. Adjectives are wild in making the imagination create power in a poem.
Some folks have asked: what my style is. If you read my poetry, you might conclude to different opinions, but I don’t think I have one; I do have moods though. And if there is a system in moods, then it is the mood-system I adopted. It is easy for someone to say, he has good or bad poetry. Write it and see who reads it. The ones who have read some of my poetry, have studied it to a t and doting of the i’s, and coma and back again to the meaning of every word, only to write: this is not right, or this and that.
I don’t have time in life to write them personally, so be it, thanks for taking the time to evaluate, they must have felt it worth their time, and if anyone who is willing to give a bad or good poet time, he has influenced them in some way or another—and that is called effect. This is simply saying, do not, not write poetry because you feel you can’t write it. If you can sing, you can write poetry, and everybody can sing, some not as well as others, but the longer you sing, the more your voice will find the way to make the tunes better.
Showing posts with label Short Poems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Short Poems. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Monday, October 12, 2009
The Messiah
The Messiah
Advance notes: The Messiah original was published in the books, “On the Threshold of a Dream,” First Edition, 1988 (from the National Library of Poetry). The Messiah was also published in the book “Sirens” by the Dennis L. Siluk, 2004. And thus far has won two International awards (Editors’ Choice Award for 1988)) it was one of the 135-pome3s out of over 10,000 to be so honored.)) It graphic imagery must be felt, it is beyond description.
In addition to this poem being one of the author’s most favored, it has provoked the most controversy in the past. Written in November, of 1987, the controversy stared at once; some of the controversy was between Minnesota Christian Churches, but after reviewing it closer, and asking how the author got the descriptiveness within the poem, and his answer being “In a vision (1983),” the controversy stopped (right after the vision, the author had written down the panorama of the picture he kept in his mind). Thus the author simply tried—to the best ability—to describe the scene. The author also had stated at the time, “It was so bad I almost started vomiting and had to ask the Lord to stopped the scene, at which time He did.” #115 (11/1987)
(The poem: The Messiah)
Like pelts stretched from side-to side
On a wooden cross, undressed, alive—
The Messiah hung, like a wild beast:
Uncouth, uncrowned, no dignity.
De-boned—like fish—His body hung;
Lifeless, deformed: —in silent pain.
Dried blood upon His ransomed face,
Eyes decaying, hardly seen:
Pours hemorrhaging with a gloss of sweat—
Skin like mounds of inflamed tar
[like boils reflecting off dark shaded ice]
Deep distress around His soot-covered veins,
A mixture of Saliva, Dirt and shame;—
Ugly as sin, beyond recognition
[like open incisions of an autopsy].
Acquainted with grief, yes, oh Yes!
As the prophets foretold, long ago.
A new scene, we became redeemed!!
Spanish Version
(El Poema: El Mesías)
Como pieles estiradas de lado a—lado
Sobre una cruz de madera, desnudo, vivo—
El Mesías colgado, como una fiera:
Grosero, destronado, sin dignidad.
Deshuesado—como pescado—Su cuerpo colgado;
Sin vida, deforme: —en dolor silencioso.
Sangre seca sobre Su cara rescatada,
Ojos descompuestos, apenas vistos:
Vierten hemorragia con un lustre de sudor—
Piel como los montones de alquitrán inflamado
[como furúnculos relejando la sombra oscura del hielo]
Profunda angustia (dolor) alrededor de Sus venas cubiertas por hollín,
Una mezcla de Saliva, Suciedad y vergüenza; —
Feo como el pecado, más allá de reconocimiento
[como incisiones abiertas de una autopsia].
¡Enterado con pena, sí, oh Si!
Como los profetas pronosticaron, hace mucho.
¡¡Una nueva escena, nos hicimos redimidos!!
Advance notes: The Messiah original was published in the books, “On the Threshold of a Dream,” First Edition, 1988 (from the National Library of Poetry). The Messiah was also published in the book “Sirens” by the Dennis L. Siluk, 2004. And thus far has won two International awards (Editors’ Choice Award for 1988)) it was one of the 135-pome3s out of over 10,000 to be so honored.)) It graphic imagery must be felt, it is beyond description.
In addition to this poem being one of the author’s most favored, it has provoked the most controversy in the past. Written in November, of 1987, the controversy stared at once; some of the controversy was between Minnesota Christian Churches, but after reviewing it closer, and asking how the author got the descriptiveness within the poem, and his answer being “In a vision (1983),” the controversy stopped (right after the vision, the author had written down the panorama of the picture he kept in his mind). Thus the author simply tried—to the best ability—to describe the scene. The author also had stated at the time, “It was so bad I almost started vomiting and had to ask the Lord to stopped the scene, at which time He did.” #115 (11/1987)
(The poem: The Messiah)
Like pelts stretched from side-to side
On a wooden cross, undressed, alive—
The Messiah hung, like a wild beast:
Uncouth, uncrowned, no dignity.
De-boned—like fish—His body hung;
Lifeless, deformed: —in silent pain.
Dried blood upon His ransomed face,
Eyes decaying, hardly seen:
Pours hemorrhaging with a gloss of sweat—
Skin like mounds of inflamed tar
[like boils reflecting off dark shaded ice]
Deep distress around His soot-covered veins,
A mixture of Saliva, Dirt and shame;—
Ugly as sin, beyond recognition
[like open incisions of an autopsy].
Acquainted with grief, yes, oh Yes!
As the prophets foretold, long ago.
A new scene, we became redeemed!!
Spanish Version
(El Poema: El Mesías)
Como pieles estiradas de lado a—lado
Sobre una cruz de madera, desnudo, vivo—
El Mesías colgado, como una fiera:
Grosero, destronado, sin dignidad.
Deshuesado—como pescado—Su cuerpo colgado;
Sin vida, deforme: —en dolor silencioso.
Sangre seca sobre Su cara rescatada,
Ojos descompuestos, apenas vistos:
Vierten hemorragia con un lustre de sudor—
Piel como los montones de alquitrán inflamado
[como furúnculos relejando la sombra oscura del hielo]
Profunda angustia (dolor) alrededor de Sus venas cubiertas por hollín,
Una mezcla de Saliva, Suciedad y vergüenza; —
Feo como el pecado, más allá de reconocimiento
[como incisiones abiertas de una autopsia].
¡Enterado con pena, sí, oh Si!
Como los profetas pronosticaron, hace mucho.
¡¡Una nueva escena, nos hicimos redimidos!!
Pigeons at La Favorita Cafe
Faintly, a scene of effects unfolds, awakens the eyes
And is soon forgotten, as it dies: the pigeons prance
Around parked cars, by the Café Favorita’s tables
in Lima, Peru!
Then they take off in flight, some remain, and prance under cars,
Out of sight: as they move in and out (the café is boarding
the street in Miraflores).
They prance, prance: pecking at crumbs on the ground,
Slowly winged, unhastening (as zooming cars pass by).
I watch these pigeons melt into the scene
Sunday, October 11, 2009
The Rimac Rio
I sometimes wonder, if you are for real (My River);
I see you are worried and frightened.
I am sure,
neither one of us have anything to fear
but the element of time:
some call this death, death, death!…
Yet you river, coy as you may seem,
go on, and on, and on (strangely):
seemingly, without change….
I’ve noticed you’ve been suspicious of
many things,
especially me—.
In this respect, I have been watching thy.
I have been viewing the world,
and everyone’s havoc and fainted smiles,
on everyone’s lips….
“Well,” I said, “they have over looked me;
but I am nothing anybody would wish.”
This
little game they and I, I and you play…
play, is almost laughable, as we both hide
from the truth, or at least
dare not acknowledge it.
I suppose, —I suppose,
I am glad I have nothing of value
other than my life.
And have you for my tranquility;
yet, I have learned:
no matter how often a man’s soul is
tranquil, Calm. serene:
a culprit will be hiding in the valley
thus, make no mistake…;
pride comes before destruction
yet still, none will
bow their knees…
it is the beast within thee… !
I feel like a stranger
in a world of strange beings,
all of us thrown together
in some kind of fading mystery.
The moment occupies but an once
of time…we, we, we are…
are all preoccupied, obsessed with time…
time, time, a rivers rhyme;
I see even the river bleeds helplessly,
that is perhaps, a weakness it
does not wish for me to see.
The river just gave me one of its
most terrible looks—;
it summons me, as if I was on its hook.
“Undress and come in,” it says;
then, “shut up, get dressed!”
It is confused like so many of us;
it is fabricating something.
“I don’t know what you are talking
about,” I say to the river.
“Treason,” it replies: barks back at me.
“I have no idea what you are talking about,”
I say, almost plead.
But the river does not bend, kneel for
anybody.
I leap to my feet and the waves of the
river grab me… seize me: several hands
around me….
“Take him underneath the water,
drawn him,” I hear the Rimac say, then
comes the words: “a spy, spy, spy..!”
but I think: I have nothing, nothing
But my life!…
I figured, this was the end to it all:
Time…as I know it to be (and it soon will be).
But I have learned you must trust somebody,
it’s simply healthy; for the river, well,
it will find somebody more suitable than I, I
suppose; and in time, it will also die: why?
The river can no longer tell the wolf from the
sheep; it only sees mans greed.
I see you are worried and frightened.
I am sure,
neither one of us have anything to fear
but the element of time:
some call this death, death, death!…
Yet you river, coy as you may seem,
go on, and on, and on (strangely):
seemingly, without change….
I’ve noticed you’ve been suspicious of
many things,
especially me—.
In this respect, I have been watching thy.
I have been viewing the world,
and everyone’s havoc and fainted smiles,
on everyone’s lips….
“Well,” I said, “they have over looked me;
but I am nothing anybody would wish.”
This
little game they and I, I and you play…
play, is almost laughable, as we both hide
from the truth, or at least
dare not acknowledge it.
I suppose, —I suppose,
I am glad I have nothing of value
other than my life.
And have you for my tranquility;
yet, I have learned:
no matter how often a man’s soul is
tranquil, Calm. serene:
a culprit will be hiding in the valley
thus, make no mistake…;
pride comes before destruction
yet still, none will
bow their knees…
it is the beast within thee… !
I feel like a stranger
in a world of strange beings,
all of us thrown together
in some kind of fading mystery.
The moment occupies but an once
of time…we, we, we are…
are all preoccupied, obsessed with time…
time, time, a rivers rhyme;
I see even the river bleeds helplessly,
that is perhaps, a weakness it
does not wish for me to see.
The river just gave me one of its
most terrible looks—;
it summons me, as if I was on its hook.
“Undress and come in,” it says;
then, “shut up, get dressed!”
It is confused like so many of us;
it is fabricating something.
“I don’t know what you are talking
about,” I say to the river.
“Treason,” it replies: barks back at me.
“I have no idea what you are talking about,”
I say, almost plead.
But the river does not bend, kneel for
anybody.
I leap to my feet and the waves of the
river grab me… seize me: several hands
around me….
“Take him underneath the water,
drawn him,” I hear the Rimac say, then
comes the words: “a spy, spy, spy..!”
but I think: I have nothing, nothing
But my life!…
I figured, this was the end to it all:
Time…as I know it to be (and it soon will be).
But I have learned you must trust somebody,
it’s simply healthy; for the river, well,
it will find somebody more suitable than I, I
suppose; and in time, it will also die: why?
The river can no longer tell the wolf from the
sheep; it only sees mans greed.
My First Published Poem
The good news is that you don't have to spend many years studying the craft (although it does help); you don't have to go to some fancy school or listen to some college professor babble on and on. We are going to tell you right now, right here how anyone -that's right, even you- can learn to write the sweetest, most inspiring love poetry ever.
I am sometimes reminded of the first "real" poem I ever wrote. I was nine years old and it went something like this:
One last little rose
How lonely you must be
One last little rose
What will become of thee
All alone, All alone
So sad you must be
Little rose, little rose
Won't you come and visit me?
As you can tell, I was still learning a lot about poetry. And even though it may not be the best poem ever, it has some great potential. I think one reason people seem to like it even today is because while it may have been written by a child, it has rhythm and it has rhyme. It has almost a sing-song feel to it and it rolls off the tongue. This is a very important thing in poetry.
I will talk more about rhyme and rhythm later and every poem does not have to rhyme but there should be a rhythm and flow to it. Another thing that was good about this simple little poem is that it has feeling. There are so many different things that go into writing poetry - especially love poetry, to really make it good.
I am sometimes reminded of the first "real" poem I ever wrote. I was nine years old and it went something like this:
One last little rose
How lonely you must be
One last little rose
What will become of thee
All alone, All alone
So sad you must be
Little rose, little rose
Won't you come and visit me?
As you can tell, I was still learning a lot about poetry. And even though it may not be the best poem ever, it has some great potential. I think one reason people seem to like it even today is because while it may have been written by a child, it has rhythm and it has rhyme. It has almost a sing-song feel to it and it rolls off the tongue. This is a very important thing in poetry.
I will talk more about rhyme and rhythm later and every poem does not have to rhyme but there should be a rhythm and flow to it. Another thing that was good about this simple little poem is that it has feeling. There are so many different things that go into writing poetry - especially love poetry, to really make it good.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Minnesota Winter Crows
Minnesota Winter Crows
[A Minnesota Poem] in Haiku form
The long, long wave of winter
Creeps, slowly creeps back
From where it came from
It had burst around us, this
This Merry spell—died
It has not, not yet…
But lifted its gray, bleak clouds—
It most surely has!
Less lovely…yes, perhaps;
Then comes early spring: crows
In their bleak, black—flight
Looking feverish…!
Notes: here is a four stanza Haiku, on the ending of winter in Minnesota, in 2007. Minnesota is known for its winters going out like a lion, and so it has proven so in the month of March, of 2007, when this poem was written. It would seem winter would simply stop, and spring would come in, but it never happens that way. Even the crows have a period of time to readjust to the new season, for the winter has helped them grow thin and lean, and has helped the humans in Minnesota to grow fat, because they hibernate in the house somewhat. Then in spring the crows grow fat, and the humans start growing lean, they get out of the house as soon as possible—and then there is no end to their activities.
Commentary on Winter Storms: Winter storms are simply a part of the culture, a fact of life, or so it would seem in Minnesota; I was born there, in St. Paul, and have witnessed many of them. Severe winter storms go back as far as weather reporting goes, to perhaps, Nov 10, 1835, when a severe storm caused 19shipwrecks on Great Lakes, 254 sailor’s died´. And then on Nov 8, 1870 the first winter storm warning was issued by the U.S. Army Signal Corps. On March 14-15, 1941 terrible blizzard in western counties, 85-mph winds at Grand Forks, 75 mph winds at Duluth. In 1996, we had three blizzards, and in 1997, we had five blizzards. The total seasonal snow fall, is between 90 and 120 inches.
[A Minnesota Poem] in Haiku form
The long, long wave of winter
Creeps, slowly creeps back
From where it came from
It had burst around us, this
This Merry spell—died
It has not, not yet…
But lifted its gray, bleak clouds—
It most surely has!
Less lovely…yes, perhaps;
Then comes early spring: crows
In their bleak, black—flight
Looking feverish…!
Notes: here is a four stanza Haiku, on the ending of winter in Minnesota, in 2007. Minnesota is known for its winters going out like a lion, and so it has proven so in the month of March, of 2007, when this poem was written. It would seem winter would simply stop, and spring would come in, but it never happens that way. Even the crows have a period of time to readjust to the new season, for the winter has helped them grow thin and lean, and has helped the humans in Minnesota to grow fat, because they hibernate in the house somewhat. Then in spring the crows grow fat, and the humans start growing lean, they get out of the house as soon as possible—and then there is no end to their activities.
Commentary on Winter Storms: Winter storms are simply a part of the culture, a fact of life, or so it would seem in Minnesota; I was born there, in St. Paul, and have witnessed many of them. Severe winter storms go back as far as weather reporting goes, to perhaps, Nov 10, 1835, when a severe storm caused 19shipwrecks on Great Lakes, 254 sailor’s died´. And then on Nov 8, 1870 the first winter storm warning was issued by the U.S. Army Signal Corps. On March 14-15, 1941 terrible blizzard in western counties, 85-mph winds at Grand Forks, 75 mph winds at Duluth. In 1996, we had three blizzards, and in 1997, we had five blizzards. The total seasonal snow fall, is between 90 and 120 inches.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Rotten Apples
It is only wise to be with people you love
To share in, part of your life, it pleases the soul,
It will please the soul more staying close to them,
For the soul wishes it is long and longs for it.
I have perceived this to be true, true enough,
To be surrounded by breathing and laughing flesh
That holds me as enough, to be who I am.
Yet so often we choice less, and less we get. There
Is nothing greater than touch, and the soft call
Of ones name. I've known so many curved necks
Folks, who listen and hope, pause and joke, freely
Bring depression onto others with their gutters.
It is the knees, the joints that convey curiously
And make a man or woman stay, with a rotten
Apple, as if it was duty-thus passes the days,
And more days and more days, until you're dead.
The body knows when it has had enough, enough
Corruptness, defilement; it expresses the accounts,
On the face, in the heart, in the limbs, hips and wrists,
In the walk, in the knees, it bends one like cotton.
It's all in the rotten apples, I hope you know, the rotten
Apples you chose to be with, love, live, grow, and endure.
You see, quality does not strike even through the sweet talk,
The cotton, it gives the souls of another perfect harmony-
It just doesn't render to them, their wills, for long; if one does
It is her or she, whom become the sick ones, the beguile
To share in, part of your life, it pleases the soul,
It will please the soul more staying close to them,
For the soul wishes it is long and longs for it.
I have perceived this to be true, true enough,
To be surrounded by breathing and laughing flesh
That holds me as enough, to be who I am.
Yet so often we choice less, and less we get. There
Is nothing greater than touch, and the soft call
Of ones name. I've known so many curved necks
Folks, who listen and hope, pause and joke, freely
Bring depression onto others with their gutters.
It is the knees, the joints that convey curiously
And make a man or woman stay, with a rotten
Apple, as if it was duty-thus passes the days,
And more days and more days, until you're dead.
The body knows when it has had enough, enough
Corruptness, defilement; it expresses the accounts,
On the face, in the heart, in the limbs, hips and wrists,
In the walk, in the knees, it bends one like cotton.
It's all in the rotten apples, I hope you know, the rotten
Apples you chose to be with, love, live, grow, and endure.
You see, quality does not strike even through the sweet talk,
The cotton, it gives the souls of another perfect harmony-
It just doesn't render to them, their wills, for long; if one does
It is her or she, whom become the sick ones, the beguile
The Cake Poem
Red, yellow, orange green and blue—
Balloons on a cake,
Candy covered mushrooms
(Red and white):
The cake sits in a window display
Waiting for the right child
To see and say:
“I wish it was my birthday!”
Balloons on a cake,
Candy covered mushrooms
(Red and white):
The cake sits in a window display
Waiting for the right child
To see and say:
“I wish it was my birthday!”
Historical Events Poem
I
July 4, 1187, Knights Templers fought one of the
Bloodiest crusade's battles at the Horns of Hattin.
In the hot desert sun they found no water to quench
Their thirst. Saladin's men completely enclosed
The crusaders sealing their fate. Saladin spared none
Except for their Grand Master. Saladin said to
King Guy, "Have no fear. It is not the custom of kings
To kill kings," after giving him a drink of water.
Thirst brought their failure-defeated.
II
Battle of Ankara, July 20, 1402,
Fought around Cubuk, Anakara.
Sultan Bayazed I, faced Timur
The conqueror, Ruler of Timurid
Empire Turku-Mongol forces.
Battle raged at Catal Hill, in Cubuk Valley.
Timur diverted the water supply to off-stream
Reservoir leaving Sultan Bayazed's army
Thirsty. Sultan Baized escaped into mountains
Timur pursued, captured Bayazed-defeated.
III
Battle of Maychew, March 31, 1936,
Northern Front Second Italo-Abyssinian War.
Haile Selassie send message to wife
Empress Menen Asfaw, "Soldiers dead,
Wounded, enemy also injured, 20,000 battle
Weary, thirsty survivors." Emperor's thirsty
Army marched to Lake Ashangi. Water of Lake
Ashangi was sprayed with deadly chemicals
By the Italian Royal Air Force, poisoned.
Emperor's thirsty army-defeated.
IV
Battle of Medina, August 18, 1813,
20 miles south of San Antonio, Texas.
Gutierrez-Magee Republican Forces
Fought the Mexican War of Independence
Against Spanish Gen. José Olivarez de Toledo,
And Dubois Spanish Royalist Army led by
Gen. Joaquín de Arredondo. Republicans, hot,
Thirsty, tired, broke ranks and ran-defeated.
V
Conquest of Egypt, summer 1798, invaded
and occupied by Napoleon's army. French
Troops landed at Alexandria. Marched, tired,
And thirsty to Cairo. Beset by Bedouin
Irregular fighters. Towns and villages
Leading to Cairo turned violently deadly
Against occupiers. August 1799, Bonaparte
abandoned Egypt, left his troops-defeated.
VI
Bataan Death March 1942,
78,000 U.S. and Philippine soldiers
Surrendered to Japanese. March more
Than 65 miles to prison camps in
Scorching heat of Philippine's jungle.
Fifteen thousand died en route
Thirsty and had no water. Most
Devastating time of conflict during
World War II-captured.
VII
Battle of Monmouth, June 28, 1778,
Heroine Mary Ludwig Hayes, was
Nicknamed "Molly Pitcher."
Fought at Valley Forge beside
Her husband William Hayes, a gunner.
Legendary-she cooled hot guns,
And bathe parched throats.
Across bullet-swept ground
Her striped skirt fluttered.
Brought pitcher after pitcher of
Cooled spring water to exhausted
Thirsty soldiers. Towns named
"Molly Pitcher Spring."-Survivalist!
July 4, 1187, Knights Templers fought one of the
Bloodiest crusade's battles at the Horns of Hattin.
In the hot desert sun they found no water to quench
Their thirst. Saladin's men completely enclosed
The crusaders sealing their fate. Saladin spared none
Except for their Grand Master. Saladin said to
King Guy, "Have no fear. It is not the custom of kings
To kill kings," after giving him a drink of water.
Thirst brought their failure-defeated.
II
Battle of Ankara, July 20, 1402,
Fought around Cubuk, Anakara.
Sultan Bayazed I, faced Timur
The conqueror, Ruler of Timurid
Empire Turku-Mongol forces.
Battle raged at Catal Hill, in Cubuk Valley.
Timur diverted the water supply to off-stream
Reservoir leaving Sultan Bayazed's army
Thirsty. Sultan Baized escaped into mountains
Timur pursued, captured Bayazed-defeated.
III
Battle of Maychew, March 31, 1936,
Northern Front Second Italo-Abyssinian War.
Haile Selassie send message to wife
Empress Menen Asfaw, "Soldiers dead,
Wounded, enemy also injured, 20,000 battle
Weary, thirsty survivors." Emperor's thirsty
Army marched to Lake Ashangi. Water of Lake
Ashangi was sprayed with deadly chemicals
By the Italian Royal Air Force, poisoned.
Emperor's thirsty army-defeated.
IV
Battle of Medina, August 18, 1813,
20 miles south of San Antonio, Texas.
Gutierrez-Magee Republican Forces
Fought the Mexican War of Independence
Against Spanish Gen. José Olivarez de Toledo,
And Dubois Spanish Royalist Army led by
Gen. Joaquín de Arredondo. Republicans, hot,
Thirsty, tired, broke ranks and ran-defeated.
V
Conquest of Egypt, summer 1798, invaded
and occupied by Napoleon's army. French
Troops landed at Alexandria. Marched, tired,
And thirsty to Cairo. Beset by Bedouin
Irregular fighters. Towns and villages
Leading to Cairo turned violently deadly
Against occupiers. August 1799, Bonaparte
abandoned Egypt, left his troops-defeated.
VI
Bataan Death March 1942,
78,000 U.S. and Philippine soldiers
Surrendered to Japanese. March more
Than 65 miles to prison camps in
Scorching heat of Philippine's jungle.
Fifteen thousand died en route
Thirsty and had no water. Most
Devastating time of conflict during
World War II-captured.
VII
Battle of Monmouth, June 28, 1778,
Heroine Mary Ludwig Hayes, was
Nicknamed "Molly Pitcher."
Fought at Valley Forge beside
Her husband William Hayes, a gunner.
Legendary-she cooled hot guns,
And bathe parched throats.
Across bullet-swept ground
Her striped skirt fluttered.
Brought pitcher after pitcher of
Cooled spring water to exhausted
Thirsty soldiers. Towns named
"Molly Pitcher Spring."-Survivalist!
Protection Poem
Protection Poem
They are homeless and emotionally helpless:
Some have been put out by family members
For reasons unknown and in anger;
Living from day to day in the moment they move
Assimilating and living in a different culture
In a new world, preyed on for adventure.
Reality on a different world's stage they adopt
They may be seen in alley ways
Also on side streets looking for food others have dropped.
One must wonder-
"Do their families care about them?"
If so, "Then why are they
Out there living in such a condition like that?"
Smoking cigarette butts found on sidewalks
They show how things go to waste,
Eating food out of garbage cans they bring to our realization
What we throw away is soothing to their taste.
They wear what others gave them for clothing,
At times they eat what passersby put in their hands as food
While wintertime finds them aching and adjusting.
Unfortunately, there are times when they are
Harassed by unreasonable people,
Some beaten and wounded by frustrated young adults
Filled with emotional hate as an example.
Some have been subjected to crimes of hate
By those who are mean-spirited;
Yet, some have been beaten and killed
For no apparent reason as attackers are acquitted.
Our nation's capital has now launched a quest
To protect the homeless and helpless:
Those who are homeless should not be victims.
Hate crime legislation are is in process to protect this class;
Discrimination laws are now being passed-
To defend and protect the welfare of the homeless at last.
Researchers have stated that crimes against the homeless
Committed by individuals are baseless.
Excitement and sports related events are what hater's states.
Hater oppressing the homeless are in the range of twenty-five
Years old and below, who gives to their friends high-fives.
The homeless have been beaten by mean people two and a half times
More than any other group, and also chased-which is a crime.
The homeless will now be in a protected group and class
Hooray to the quest for protecting humanity at last!
Now the homeless and helpless can have some ease
Hopefully, while living in peace!
They are homeless and emotionally helpless:
Some have been put out by family members
For reasons unknown and in anger;
Living from day to day in the moment they move
Assimilating and living in a different culture
In a new world, preyed on for adventure.
Reality on a different world's stage they adopt
They may be seen in alley ways
Also on side streets looking for food others have dropped.
One must wonder-
"Do their families care about them?"
If so, "Then why are they
Out there living in such a condition like that?"
Smoking cigarette butts found on sidewalks
They show how things go to waste,
Eating food out of garbage cans they bring to our realization
What we throw away is soothing to their taste.
They wear what others gave them for clothing,
At times they eat what passersby put in their hands as food
While wintertime finds them aching and adjusting.
Unfortunately, there are times when they are
Harassed by unreasonable people,
Some beaten and wounded by frustrated young adults
Filled with emotional hate as an example.
Some have been subjected to crimes of hate
By those who are mean-spirited;
Yet, some have been beaten and killed
For no apparent reason as attackers are acquitted.
Our nation's capital has now launched a quest
To protect the homeless and helpless:
Those who are homeless should not be victims.
Hate crime legislation are is in process to protect this class;
Discrimination laws are now being passed-
To defend and protect the welfare of the homeless at last.
Researchers have stated that crimes against the homeless
Committed by individuals are baseless.
Excitement and sports related events are what hater's states.
Hater oppressing the homeless are in the range of twenty-five
Years old and below, who gives to their friends high-fives.
The homeless have been beaten by mean people two and a half times
More than any other group, and also chased-which is a crime.
The homeless will now be in a protected group and class
Hooray to the quest for protecting humanity at last!
Now the homeless and helpless can have some ease
Hopefully, while living in peace!
Is it Easy to Write a Poem
A friend of mine recently asked me, "How do you manage to write such beautiful poems? I can't imagine myself writing a poem." My response was "No, it's not difficult! It's just as easy as writing anything else."
Many people would say it is very difficult to write poetry, but is writing anything an article, a paragraph or a book not difficult for most people? But most of us do write paragraphs about how we feel, what we do, then why do most of find writing poetry the most difficult thing in the world? You wouldn't believe but there are people who are terrified of writing letters because they think they are not good at it, while most of us can write letters quite naturally. So trust me writing poetry is not difficult at all. You just need to keep a few things in mind.
First of all, try to write about something you truly believe in or feel. Writing facts is easier done when writing articles or news reports. But when it comes to poetry it needs to be handled in a much more sophisticated manner. Poetry needs the personal touch. Poetry comes alive only when it is written with feelings.
Secondly, if you are very imaginative, think of a situation, put yourself into it and try to feel it while you are visualizing it. There you get your poem.
Thirdly, you need to pay a little attention on the rhythm of the poem, a poem should flow. It's a good practice to keep slightly rhyming words in the end of a line or start a line in the similar fashion. The rhyming words help you get the flow of the poem.
Lastly and most importantly, you need to share your poems with your friends or loved ones for two reasons, first and the most obvious reason: yes as more people will read it you will get good feedback, positive, negative which is always good to improve upon next time you write a poem. And second reason being by sharing your poem you are sharing your feelings, your love with the other person. Imagine what better gift can you give to a loved one than writing a poem about how they make you feel.
So give it a try, next time you need to convey your feelings to someone...
Many people would say it is very difficult to write poetry, but is writing anything an article, a paragraph or a book not difficult for most people? But most of us do write paragraphs about how we feel, what we do, then why do most of find writing poetry the most difficult thing in the world? You wouldn't believe but there are people who are terrified of writing letters because they think they are not good at it, while most of us can write letters quite naturally. So trust me writing poetry is not difficult at all. You just need to keep a few things in mind.
First of all, try to write about something you truly believe in or feel. Writing facts is easier done when writing articles or news reports. But when it comes to poetry it needs to be handled in a much more sophisticated manner. Poetry needs the personal touch. Poetry comes alive only when it is written with feelings.
Secondly, if you are very imaginative, think of a situation, put yourself into it and try to feel it while you are visualizing it. There you get your poem.
Thirdly, you need to pay a little attention on the rhythm of the poem, a poem should flow. It's a good practice to keep slightly rhyming words in the end of a line or start a line in the similar fashion. The rhyming words help you get the flow of the poem.
Lastly and most importantly, you need to share your poems with your friends or loved ones for two reasons, first and the most obvious reason: yes as more people will read it you will get good feedback, positive, negative which is always good to improve upon next time you write a poem. And second reason being by sharing your poem you are sharing your feelings, your love with the other person. Imagine what better gift can you give to a loved one than writing a poem about how they make you feel.
So give it a try, next time you need to convey your feelings to someone...
Ideas For Writing a Romantic Love Poem
Writing a romantic Love Poem is a great way to show someone you are dating or married to how much you care about them. If you're stuck on finding the right words to say to express how you feel, these creative ideas might give you a little inspiration.
Write Acrostic Poetry: Acrostic poetry is when you take a word and a phrase and write it vertically down a page. Then you write a phrase that begins with the letter. You can use the person's name or you can write out a phrase such as I Love You. Using that phrase as an example, you could write "I is for the inspiration you give to me, L is for the love you show, etc. " until you write a line for each letter in the initial phrase.
Write a Concrete Poem: Concrete poetry is unique in the way that it makes a shape for the subject of what you are writing about. For example, you could draw the shape of a heart, and then fill it with your words. You could also do this for the shape of lips for a kiss or even in the shape of something that is special to you both, such as a baseball if your first date was at a baseball game.
Things I Adore About You: Another thing you could do is make a list of all the things you like about your partner and adore about them. From how they make you laugh or to how they always listen to you, it shouldn't be too hard to think of 10-15 things and then assemble it into a romantic gift to share with them.
A Description of Them: Show your partner how much you know about them by writing something that describes the things they do and like. For example, you could write: "Lover of cats and horses, a painter and musician, with beautiful blue eyes...etc."
An Adaption of a Love Song: If you have a favorite song about relationships, another thing you can do is always adapt from that and make it personalized or unique to you and your partner's relationship. For example, you might use the rhyming pattern of the song and then substitute your own words to show your partner how you feel.
The options are endless when it comes to writing something special for your partner. With a little creativity and a few ideas to get you started, it can be a meaningful way to express your true feelings for any special moment or occasion.
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