JULIA JOHNSON'S IDEAS & WRITINGS & WEBSITE

I enjoy Poetry ! Here are some excellent Poets and Poetess!

I want to share their works with all of you!

Sweet Mother and Father
I miss you both so much,
Just one more I Love you,
Or your soft gentle touch.
We knew it all when you were here,
How I wished you were still near.
We Had our Little spats,
I know we were all brats,
but now those days are gone,
and I feel so all alone.
I miss you more everyday
So one day soon I will be on my way.

 

 

ONE  MORE  TIME

Let me bloom just one more time,
before the winds of winter blow,
a lovely blossom so sublime
that freezing won't erase the glow
when hearts are sad.

Let me reach up to the skies
on stem now bare of leaves
ne'er giving up because time flies,
another dies, or someone grieves
for what they had.

Let me color my dull world,
and make another's path more bright
with a vigor there unfurled
to improve a poor man's plight
and make him glad,

....just one more time....

 

© Betty Stone
photo October in Macken Park
framed at Photobucket.com

Answers of life

 

Leave me alone sometimes,

I wish to be alone in the dark.

I want to contemplate my life,

Without any one tearing me apart.

 

I need to write these thoughts in silence.

I need to see how far I need to go,

To realize how far I have come.

 

It’s not my wish to push anyone away,

I just cant hear the voices in my head,

With all these opinions in my face.

 

Its not lonely in here, I have my thoughts to keep me awake.

I am not cold in here, knowing your all waiting keeps me warm.

And I am not going insane, just taking time for me,

So don’t fear for our future because I am quiet, I will break

The silence eventually.

 

We all need time to think, I am just taking mine.

So alone I sit in quiet retreat, patiently taking my time.

To cleanse my mind of the chaos, the world has left behind.

 

I will emerge new, like a child. Only not so defenseless,

With the memories inside.

Passion, love, and hope renewed. Ready to continue on with life.

 

I am here, I have not gone, I will be ready soon to carry on.

So leave me be, and you will see, this journey within has set me free.

 

To love,

To understand,

To focus

And demand, that everyone take some time,

To go within, and discover their own,

Answers of life.

 

                                                                       -Fackerell 2008

 

From: My Inner Light A Journey in Poetry

By Author: Stephen Edward Fackerell

http://myinnerlight.synthasite.com

 

THE MASTERPIECE

With crayons in hand and paper beneath
The young girl creates her beautiful masterpiece

With blotches of yellow, black, blue, and red all over the place
With scraggily hair, eyes that don’t match and an oblong face
A sky that is purple and grass that is brown
A nose colored so red, it would be better suited for a clown

The child draws with nothing but her imagination around
It is a gift for her father, to turn his frown upside down

Without the ability to spell, there are three x’s and three o’s for Daddy to see
A token of her love and appreciation this great masterpiece will be

The child does not worry that she cannot spell or draw straight lines
She does not care if her composition is lacking and is she appears color blind

Her art is her gift and she knows it will make Daddy smile
Times have been hard, he’s lost job and been out of work for awhile

She didn’t feel pressured to be perfect, or worried she might not succeed
She only wanted to show Daddy that he is all she will ever need

He sits at a table swallowed by bills,
His head hangs low and is very still

She takes her picture to him and holds it out with great care
“Daddy, I made this for you” she says with a wide eyed stare

Like a fire lit in his eyes, he takes her gift and to his surprise
After looking at this picture he suddenly began to cry
In that moment there was something that he realized
He may have bills, he may struggles, but God gave him something that money could never buy
He held the picture to his heart, and Daddy finally smiled

J
www.JacobIsrael.org

The Author of THE CALLING

Soul Food Restaurant

When you frequent your favorite soul food spot,

Along with your faithful friends;

What you'll eat any given day,

On your tastes are quite varied,

And the menu may read like this:

For breakfast:Country Ham and Eggs,

With Biscuits and Cheese Grits,

For Lunch:Neckbones, Catfish,

Smothered Chicken,

Pork Chops and Pigs feet,

Everything looks so delicious,

And these are just the meats.

The vegetables you might enjoy,

Includes greens, squash, and black-eyed peas;

Or you might want fried corn and pinto beans,

Along with macaroni and cheese.

Whatever it is that you decide,

It's sure to hit the spot,

It'll comes delivered to your booth,

Fresh and piping hot.

Be prepared to sit a spell,

"Cause you won't want to move;

For you will have dined most sumptuously,

As your clean plate will prove. 

By:Author Patricia Neely-Dorsey

from her book: Reflections Of A Mississippi Magnolia A Life In Poems

By Publisher:GrantHouse

 

     Who Is He

 

        He walks through the park and watches the children at play,

        He wants to speak to them but He knows He must not, 

        For they are taught to not speak to strangers.

 

        He goes to the market and sees all the people,

        He tries to speak to them but, no one has the time to listen.

     He goes to the church to speak to the pastor;

     but the pastor doesn't want to hear what He has to say,

     for He is not a member of the church. 

     He goes to His friends, who know and love Him;

     they don't want to listen any more,

     for they have heard it all before.

 

        There was a time long ago that He called to the children,

        and they were not afraid to run to Him and listen to His words. 

        The people would come by the hundreds taking the time to hear  

        Him speak, never growing tired of His word.

 

        The religious leaders would sit and listen to Him for hours,  

        in wonder; they wanted to learn the truth.

        His friends would ask Him questions,

        never tiring of the Words He spoke.       

      

       What happened to the years between then and now?

     Why aren’t we trying to be more like Him;

     He is still a part of us.

     He is still trying to speak.

     It is us that must keep trying to remind the world of His love.

        By Maryann Nooner 1991/ Of Maryann's Reviews

        www.freewebs.com/mzmo0333

 

 

 

 

From Afar

From afar I noticed you,

The color of your hair, the strength in your face.

Up close I was the one...

Who truly saw you. A great father and friend. An honest and caring man.

Beauty they say is in the eye of the beholder, to me you were the most handsome man I had ever seen.

From afar I wanted to be your friend.

We'd have long talks, sharing our dreams and thoughts.

Send e-mails and calls.

Up close I was the one...

Who you said Hi to, or gave a polite how are you?

From afar I prayed for you.

For strength, guidance, happiness, and love.

Up close I was the one...

Who shed silent tears for you, because I knew the pain you had gone through.

From afar I longed for someone like you.

A man who was strong and true.

Up close I was the one...

You looked straight through.

From afar, I've tried to get you out of my heart and my head.

The stronger I beg God to take the thoughts away,

the stronger they become and the longer you stay.

Up close I was the one...

Who you never knew.

Poetry by author: Melinda Kaye

Who wote "The Road Back"

www.freewebs.com/melindakaye

www.freewebs.com/poetrybymk

 

(Submitted by Joan a fellow gamer from England)

Patterns of life
Oct 21, 2006 | 7:33AM

 

 

GO VISIT YOUR MA’MA

By: Lawrence Carver Author of Silver Mission One

www1.freewebs.com/larrycarver/

 

What shall I do; my wife’s out of town.

So happy inside; I feel like a clown.

A week by myself; it’s been a long time.

Just for a while; my life is all mine.

First day she was gone; had dishes to do.

The dog was inside; cleaned up some poo.

Second day I’m ready; to have me some fun.

Forgot I can’t leave; till laundry is done.

Third day was here; waiting for me.

The dog’s in again; mopped up some pee.

The fourth day came; it went in a flash.

Had to get groceries; I’m all out of cash.

Day five I can’t wait; go fishing all day.

More dishes and dusting; no time to play.

Day six I’m so tired; I just want to sleep.

It’s fun just to lie here; counting the sheep.

The whole week is gone; more cleaning to do.

How does she do it; chores and kids too?

A lesson was learned; I know that I’m sure.

The next time she leaves; I’m going with her.

 

 

THE RIVER

Author Sara Tufail & Kiran’s

 

Below the mountain, along the hill side;
There was a river flowing swift and wide
Air stopped it, and begged to not to go
but the river replied, "Sorry! But I have to flow
may be deep in the dark ocean is my End
but I have to meet my lonely ocean friend"

 

The Little Fat Rat

There in the corner
Sitting on a mat
Was tiny little creature
A little fat rat.
He jumped when I spoke
'cause I startled him so
If only he knew
How I wished he would go.
So I lay out some cheese
In a circle of traps
And then when he comes
There'll be no more gaps.
I lay in bed listening
For a snap or a pop
But all I hear is an "eek" sound
And then it all stopped.
Walking softly to the kitchen
To gaze at my game
A tear runs down my cheek
I'll never be the same.

Penny D. Owen

  

Authored: A Love That Never Dies

www.pennydowens.tripod.com

Copyright ©2007  Penny  Foster

Heroes Die

By: A. W. Nutter

Authored: Daddy's Game & Shimmer

www.freewebs.com/abcedit

 

You stormed into my life as quickly as lightning piercing a darkened sky. 

My aggressor cowered in your presence, the filth pouring from his mouth as he started spinning his lies.

 

You shoved him away from me as you knelt by my side.

Working at the knots trying to set me free, you diverted your look but I saw the anger on your face, it was something you couldn’t hide. 

 

Lifting me gently you cradled my small form against your chest.

I moaned out in pain, you relaxed your grip sitting me on the edge of my bed to rest.

 

You looked at the redness of my ribs and how I had difficulty breathing; I watched the tears cascade over your cheeks as you started crying.

Turning away from me you attacked him, and beat him until I was sure he was dieing.

 

You pulled a shirt over my head and we left in a hurry never stopping to look back.

It was the last time I remember being in that painful little shack.

 

We drove through the night and you spoke to me often, stopping only for gas before we proceeded.

When I never answered, you would stroke my hair, you seemed to understand, love was what I needed.

 

You left me with a woman that raised me as her own, a woman who was patient, who gave me time allowing me to heal.

It didn’t take long for me to know the pain I had endured in life was gone and the warmth of her loving arms was all I would ever feel.

 

I wish you had stayed and never left me, but you never returned after rescuing me that night.

I was too young and frightened to say thank you for saving me but now that I’m older I need to make it right.

 

She told me your name and I set out to find the man that had risked his life for a complete stranger.

There were so many questions I wanted to ask you, but mostly I needed to know why?  Why would you try to rescue me and put your own life in danger?

 

My hands were trembling as I pushed open the gate, went up the sidewalk and knocked on your door.

A little old lady stood in front of me on the porch. When I introduced myself I had to catch her as she slumped toward the floor.

 

Without saying a word she took me by the hand and walked with me down the street past a small church, pointing to a graveyard she said this is where he’s buried.

 I felt my knees going weak, now it was me needing to be carried.

 

When you left I was so small, in pain and so full of fear.

 I never forgot you and I stopped by to thank you after all these years.

 

Standing by your grave I could not hold my grief any longer as the tears fell freely from my eyes.

My hero was gone, why did you have to die?

 

Driving home I pulled my car over and screamed profanities toward God’s face.

What I received in return was his never ending grace.

A calmness washed over me as God made me realize.

My hero wasn’t gone he was standing by my Saviors side;

I caught a glimpse of you in his warm embrace.

 

Allegiance

 

Christians long ago,

Brought to a persecutor throne,

They where told that their lives would be spared,

If only they would renounce,

The name of Christ

 

Each one chose to die,

They became martyrs,

Their lives given to the cause,

To bring Jesus to the lost,

 

I could hear them say,

As they begin to die,

I pledge my allegiance to the Son,

Jesus Christ my Redeemer,

The precious Lamb of God,

The One who died for you and I,

 

Time has come and Time has gone,

Years of Time will pass by,

But His Name will live for all time,

We are living in the end,

It is time that we will have to pay the cost,

We will all have to stand for the Cross,

And Renounce this World,

Laying up treasures,

Where rust nor moth corrupt them

 

So one by one let us stand,

Let your Allegiance ring,

For the Lord our Savior Our King,

He died so we could have life,

Will you stand no matter the sacrifice?

Embrace the Cross of Christ,

Let us pledge our love to him,

 

Here will be my words in the final days,

Let us stand and speak out loud,

I pledge my allegiance to the Lamb,

With my whole heart and soul,

With everything that I know,

I will offer all that I am,

For the Son of God, Our precious lamb,

His sacrifice for us all shines through,

At the Cross is where I first knew,

His love endures forever more,

I will die for what I believe,

Jesus Christ is my Savior

 

To die is to live,

So if I must die for my Jesus,

I will give freely,

I will never renounce the name of Christ,

All the world hear me,

I pledge my Allegiance To Jesus Christ

 

By Tabitha Robin

Authored: The Burning Bush & Soulful Ink &

The Linking Stone: A New Beginning

www.tabitha-robin.com

Gasp

By Gonnabeanauthor/Sophia E.

I lay awake on my bed

Contemplating the day asunder

My eyes, at last, flutter closed

And a trance I go under

 

My breathing is coaxed to long inhales and exhales

I am still conscious but not really awake

Colors float beneath my eyelids

The next world I enter is fake.

 

Darkness, everywhere darkness

I am a person watching myself from behind a curtain

I know this dream and yet,

I await the fear that will come for certain

 

My feet are bare

My breath, hands, and body are cool

It is a cream-colored, spiral staircase I step onto

I know what is to happen, but I continue, a fool.

 

My foot lightly reaches the third step and it comes

A sudden force against my back

Have I tripped or been shoved?

Into the black depths it is courage I lack

 

A gasp erupts into the air

My torso heaving for oxygen in the night

I am awake now, in the comfort of my bed,

All is over, no more reason for fright

 

I lay my head back onto my pillow

My breathing relaxing, becoming the same

I have to admit to the night, I am timid

For that dream to arrive again, still not tame.

--
Sophie
http://www.freewebs.com/gonnabeanauthor
http://gonnabeanauthor.livejournal.com/

The soldier squared his shoulders and said,
"No, Lord, I guess I ain't.
Because those of us who carry guns,
Can't always be a saint.
I've had to work most Sundays,
And at times my talk was tough.
And sometimes I've been violent,
Because the world is awfully rough.
But, I never took a penny,
That wasn't mine to keep...
Though I worked a lot of overtime,
When the bills got just too steep.
And I never passed a cry for help,
Though at times I shook with fear.
And sometimes, God, forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.
I know I don't deserve a place,
Among the people here
They never wanted me around,
Except to calm their fears.

If you've a place for me here, Lord,
It needn't be so grand.
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't, I'll understand.

There was a silence all around the throne,
Where the saints had often trod.
As the soldier waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God

"Step forward now, you soldier,
You've borne your burdens well.
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in Hell."

 

Aqua

 

I am preoccupied with thoughts of water, trails of tears forever stained on faces.

Of ominous seas in forbidden places, watery sheets cascading over rocky ledges. Thunderous waters rampaging over towering ravines, returning cloudy mist ascending to places where waters were once displaced.

Frozen waters stilled by absence of time, blue liquid to sight, invisible to light, transparent undertow of earth's gravity.

Waters rolling along or waters still, waters below or waters above, on secretive travels we know not.

I wonder of the voyage of drops of rain, venturing on journeys no two the same.

 

I am preoccupied with thoughts of water, of salted tears, crying away life’s fears.

Of waters mineral laden, the essences of all life, waters docile, waters ravaging wild.

Waters traveled, waters never subjugated, spring waters emerging from below  mountains sparkling and pure waters, contradictions to laws of gravity waters, the giver of life waters, waters cradle and carry you through life, destroyers of life waters.

Waters singular in concept, twofold in purpose, multifarious re duality.

And what of the tears I’ve cried, are they not the same waters I am preoccupied with? The essence of life, can I not cry me a river, or the rivers cry for me? The very tears of man perpetually cried since the existence of Terra Firma.

I cry Aqua.

 

Poem by Wesley Allen Mack

© 2007 All Rights Reserved.