You left 1884 behind,
1961 came you misused it
1972, you were doomed
1990, it seemed like joy but no
2016 your people smiled in their death
see the homeless, fatherless,
widows now bury their husbands,
heads rolling in roads that are gutters
People roasted like fish
yet it never mattered to you,
only drinks and women did
See the troubles your children face,
many bellies are swollen,
yet these bellies can't talk,
they fear execution
When shall you correct these
bad legacies?
The desert has visited the grass field
And the hungry mourners are fleeing
Into the hands of death.
With bowed heads and fervent prayer
we shed our tears with broken hearts
in memory of those no longer here,
those memories are now set far apart.
Names listed on the TV screen
the familiar ones heard from another century,
Benedict and Barbara Walters,
other famous names upon the altar,
Unfamiliar names are forgotten yet last
pushed back into our past
the heroes, saints, and sinners once cast;
these then there are the names often unheard,
familiar but unknown to the public lives interred
by family, friends, and the dearly beloved
who revealed the truths in life discovered
by the children and pictures that remain
and we take stock of all we've lost and all we've gained,
holding on tight to their legacies and their names.
Your eyes speak loud
So loud it buzzes beyond the ears could hear
Remember to call my name
When thy heart received a gift of pain
Never think twice
Never hesitate
For I'll be here as long as I live
Far beyond afterlife
Just call my name
Say it softly as I linger through thee
Our hist'ry books are filled with famous names
Brave men who sacrificed and persevered
Some men reach greatness simply playing games
While some find courage, challenging what's feared
To be remembered after one has died
A light that shines through centuries of dark
We hope our children bear our name with pride
Though vain, we'd like to think we've left a mark
But lofty legacies are built by fate
And usually evade the common man
One barren generation cleans the slate
Time unimpressed, forgets our short life span
For me, I've fostered trees instead of peers
I'm told, some species live a thousand years...
by Daniel Turner
A Myriad of loving voices echo through my memories
Ghosts of those who touched my soul
And gifted me their legacies
Along the way there has been reckless peril on my stormy seas
There was but one who Salvaged me
Who saved me from my misery
Anchored me and kept me safe
and now at last I get to taste
The comfort of a warm embrace
For now I live without disgrace
September 30th 2019
Story of my life contest
Sponsor : Silent One
Take a moment, if you will
to ponder the situation of government at will.
Representatives of the people they claim
yet, individual indiscretions gain greater fame.
Racist ramblings dress a deep inner rage
rise to the surface from pasts poorly displayed.
Whiteout and black face strayed
openly upon the political stage.
Sexual innuendo and exploitations
feign threat and menace of illegal immigration.
Tax dollars that can never satisfy
the budgetary ingredients of a mince pie,
build a wall, large and stout
keep everyone in and the others out.
Gone is the give and take
lessons lost of passed mistakes.
What price does the future hold
for democratic legacies of old?
Open eyes, how do we boldly go
to the freedom for the republic we know?
Playing football earned me a concussion
Basketball tore the cartilage in my knee
Running cross-country sprained me my ankle
While boxing knocked the sense out of me
Throwing a curveball ruined my elbow
Swimming lap after lap did 'fix' my shoulder
My erratic golf swing left my back in a knot
And I've arthritis everywhere, now I've grown older
...for Hart Crane
Halls of steel and concrete,
massive Cyclopean towers
of immodesty where moguls
bask in gross extravagance.
Children in neglect,
souls with haggard faces,
ekeing out their livelihoods
with hopes and modest means.
Measures of prosperity;
the rich man pads his pockets while
the poor man haunts his tenement,
struggling to smile.
Ghosts in my mind, I feel your influence
And value your life and legacy.
I hear your voice through the years
And feel regret that you have gone,
That time and death separate us.
I see the need to perpetuate
Those beginnings which you held dear,
To collect the fragments of your dreams
And carry them forward with my own
So that the meaning of your life remains.
He's one of the ones that went and came back.
a wounded warrior, father, brother, son,
Self-made men all, part and parcel of
the American Dream; one of the ones.
One of the ones who barely came back,
our saviors, soldiers, seamen, sons,
Quiet men, full of untold tales;
a bold and lucky man, one of the ones.
One of the ones, relics, scared, but fearless;
part and parcel of the Big Ones,
with their purple hearts in hidden chests,
they've lived the nightmare, one of the ones.
A legacy left to wives, daughters and sons,
A living legacy, one of the best ones.
Halls of steel and concrete,
massive Cyclopean towers
of immodesty where moguls
bask in gross extravagance.
Children in neglect,
souls with haggard faces,
ekeing out their livelihoods
with hopes and modest means.
Versions of prosperity;
the rich man pads his pockets while
the poor man haunts his tenement,
struggling to smile.
one heart
meets another
two
becomes one
Soon,
two beget
one
grows
to see
two
as if
one
Forever
a part
of each
remains
bonded
in him
or her
'til
that heart
meets
another...
Inside
my head
the living
and the dead
faces
voices
places
of my past
being
breathing
there in my
reality
vibrant
remembered
yesteryears
abound
vivid
sounds
surround
in cameo
Leave legacies of love and light,
fame and fortune is not worth the fight.
-Adeleke Adeite.
Pick up the picture,
Half are gone,
Deceased and gone,
I wish-
I could bring those eras back,
The eras of beloved ladies living,
True ladies of legacies,
Left us all behind,
Now onward we press.
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