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Long Poems
Long poem by Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Details
An Ode to Turkeys

An Ode to Turkeys

By Dane Smith-Johnsen

There was a time, year one thousand A.D

U.S. turkeys faced a brand new plight.

Usefulness seen.

Native American's hunting delight.

The white meat of a turkey is quite lean.

So much healthier than man knew before,

Nothing one ever could say,

In any way,

Would make Americans free turkeys anymore.

II

Thanksgiving comes and goes.

Wild turkey gobbling slows.

Ben Franklin watched their plight.

Nominated, though laughter did flare.

Turkeys beneath the moonlight

Were beautiful out there.

Ben suggested, turks as the nation's bird.

But eagles know, it was not so.

And turks in history endured this nations birth.

III

Although wild turkeys can run fast and fly,

Toms might in spring be found.

Fluffing, dancing around.

Caruncle and waddle shiny, bright red

Courting the hens, showing off, prancing, not dead.

Although turkeys fly strong,

The hunters by day kept watch in the fields.

Until, Old Tom, no more sang passion's song

And hens under bushes sat on eggs long.

When chicks hatched out and played their mother shields.

But on Thanksgiving Day...

Run away!

Note: Carolyn, thanks for the video suggestion. It is very funny. I decided to
post the link

here. The HISTORICAL one is found at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w1213z9KHNs

(TIME HEALS ALL: We do LOVE you, MOTHER ENGLAND... from you we were BORN.)

The HYSTERICAL one is found at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JnLyqBtU_F8

ENJOY the FUN!

Copyright Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Year Posted 2009

Long poem by William Masonis | Details

Hector

Poiseidon's waters roil and roar

All up and down the craggy coast;

Their winedark waves have brought the host

Of foreign men all drunk for glory,

For the sake of one man's vanity

They traveled to your alien shore

To write with blood and bone a story

Of the Gods' capriciousness towards men,

Of passion's triumph over sanity

Which they shall repeat: again, again.

The men will surge against your city walls

Ten long and doleful years;

As your children, born to violence, shriek, and widows' tears

Appeal to you, their hero Prince,

To drive them back to whence they came

As your father walks the palace halls,

As does his shade now, ever since -

Ever since you went out to face the foe

And pass to time your noble name,

Their legend and their martyr, hope and woe.

It would be asked by what Creed you chose to live

Before you fell to the Fates' perversity,

Before their undeserving Champion dragged you 'round the city.

"Honor the Gods", you said, cruel though they may be.

"Defend your Country", you said, though it be doomed.

"Love your Women", you said, as only they can give

Meaning to the madness from across the sea.

Your father forced to beg for your battered corpse; so many dead,

Their faces still now, 'neath the swaying plumes

Of shining helmets, others waiting in their stead.

"Honor the Gods

Defend your Country

Love your women."

- Oh you grey heads who start your wars for Pride,

Go ask Andromache's ghost

What it meant to her.