Tiny Mountain
The year was 1972
Tiny Mountain had a lot to do.
He volunteered to be in the Vietnam War,
He was only 17 years young,
his adventure had just begun.
He rescued 600 Marines who where Prisoner's of War,
He was a brave soul for the war took it's toll.
He shot 18 " canons on a US Battleship,
to scare the Vietnamese to give up without a quip.
The Vietnamese waved their white flags and
let his ship come to shore,
to get the rest of the Prisoner's of War.
There was a lot of tunnels underground,
Tiny Mountain didn't go, he left without a sound.
He was too big to rescue POW under there,
there was cities with stores everywhere.
Like the subway system in NYC,
it was totally different not glittery.
Now Tiny Mountain made it back,
he made it without an attack.
Thanks Tiny Mountain for rescuing our POW's,
We the people of US of A and POW's Thank you.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on August 17,2011
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Tiny Mountain
The year was 1972
Tiny Mountain had a lot to do.
He volunteered to be in the Vietnam War,
He was only 17 years young,
his adventure had just begun.
He rescued 600 Marines who where Prisoner’s of War,
He was a brave soul for the war took it’s toll.
He shot 18 “ cannons on a US Battleship,
to scare the Vietnamese to give up without a quip.
The Vietnamese waved their white flags and
let his ship come to shore,
to get the rest of the Prisoner’s of War.
There was a lot of tunnels underground,
Tiny Mountain didn’t go, he left without a sound.
He was too big to rescue POW under there,
there was cities with stores everywhere.
Like the subway system in NYC,
it was totally different not glittery.
Now Tiny Mountain made it back,
he made it without an attack.
Thanks Tiny Mountain for rescuing our POW’s,
We the people of US of A and POW’s Thank you.
Written by Christina Sunrise on August 17,2011 at 4: 19pm.
www.purplepoems.com www.christinasunrise.com
www.puppitlady.com
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tiny Mountain
The year was 1972
Tiny Mountain had a lot to do.
He volunteered to be in the Vietnam War,
He was only 17 years young,
his adventure had just begun.
He rescued 600 Marines who where Prisoner’s of War,
He was a brave soul for the war took it’s toll.
He shot 18 “ canons on a US Battleship,
to scare the Vietnamese to give up without a quip.
The Vietnamese waved their white flags and
let his ship come to shore,
to get the rest of the Prisoner’s of War.
There was a lot of tunnels underground,
Tiny Mountain didn’t go, he left without a sound.
He was too big to rescue POW under there,
there was cities with stores everywhere.
Like the subway system in NYC,
it was totally different not glittery.
Now Tiny Mountain made it back,
he made it without an attack.
Thanks Tiny Mountain for rescuing our POW’s,
We the people of US of A and POW’s Thank you.
Written by Christina Sunrise on August 17,2011
www.purplepoems.com www.christinasunrise.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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A mountain is composed of tiny grains of earth. The ocean is made up of tiny drops of water. Even so, life is but an endless series of little details, actions, speeches, and thoughts. And the consequences whether good or bad of even the least of them are far-reaching.
Valentine's Day
Oh! I wish I were a tiny browny bird from out the south,
Settled among the alder-holts, and twittering by the stream;
I would put my tiny tail down, and put up my tiny mouth,
And sing my tiny life away in one melodious dream.
I would sing about the blossoms, and the sunshine and the sky,
And the tiny wife I mean to have in such a cosy nest;
And if some one came and shot me dead, why then I could but die,
With my tiny life and tiny song just ended at their best.
poem by Charles Kingsley
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Prisoner Of Love
In your book of broken hearts
You had my name now the story starts
Well never be the same again I know
Im a victim of circumstance
Im the one that got the second chance
One chance...thats all I need, and I wont let go
Now youve got to understand Im ready
I wont be denied
This lonely heart must be satisfied
You lie waiting far across the sea
Wild horses could never stop me
The highest mountain aint high enough
Im coming back, gonna take you prisoner of love
Calling all dreamers, every heart broken fool
Doing what I can...but, love is cruel
The highest mountain aint high enough
I wont give up, gonna take you prisoner of love
You took the magic of the silver screen
Youve got the look, that dreams are made of
Ill do anything to make my dreams come true
Now turn this city upside down
I comb the streets of every lonely town
Ill never rest, Im a man possessed
I need love from you
I know youve got it there and I want it
I wont be denied
Your lonely heart will be satisfied
You lie waiting far across the sea
Wild horses could never stop me
The highest mountain aint high enough
Im coming back, gonna take you prisoner of love
Calling all dreamers, every heart broken fool
Doing what I can but love is cruel
The highest mountain aint high enough
I wont give up, gonna take you prisoner of love
Calling all dreamers, every heart broken fool
Doing what I can but love is cruel
The highest mountain aint high enough
Im coming back, gonna take you prisoner of love
Baby, Ill be sailing far across the sea
Wild horses could never stop me
The highest mountain aint high enough
I wont give up, gonna take you prisoner of love
Im coming back gonna take you prisoner of love
Im coming back, Im coming back
I wont give up, gonna take you prisoner of love
I get to your love
Im coming back, gonna take you prisoner of love
Take you prisioner of love
I wont give up, I wont give up, gonna take you prisoner of love
Im coming back, gonna take you prisoner of love
song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heart is tiny, Hopes are high
Heart is tiny, Hopes are high
On top of the world, wants to fly.
Wants to surf, in mid of the ocean;
Wants to climb, Highest the mountain;
Always willing, to touch the sky.
Heart is tiny, Hopes are high
Wants to shine, like a bright star;
Wants to race in, the worlds' best car;
Lighter as feather, wants to glide.
Heart is tiny, Hopes are high
All things happen, On its commands;
Every thing comes to, When it demands;
Whole beauty of world, wants in eyes.
Heart is tiny, Hopes are high
Better if it does some good deed
Helps the poor and who are in need
Accepts the truth and denies the lies.
Heart is tiny, Hopes are high
- S.D. Tiwari
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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There Once Was A Tiny Girl
there once
was a tiny girl
who grew up
in this world
there once
was a tiny girl
who cried herself to sleep
every night
there once
was a tiny girl
who wore the same dress
every day
there once
was a tiny girl
who wouldn't go out
and play
there once
was a tiny girl
who would bleed and have bruises
from head to toe
there once
was a tiny girl
who begged
daddy, please no more
there once
was a tiny girl
who the angels
heard her prayer
they came down
and took her
to a better place
where that tiny girl
found love
instead of hate
by: crystal sonier
age: 15
poem by Natalia Anna Joelie
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Tiny Drop
Waste of Tiny, Tiny Water Drops.
Always Trigger my Conscious Thoughts.
A Tiny Water Drop can make a Sapling Laugh
Tiny, Tiny water Drops can get you sweet Pod.
Tiny, Tiny Water Drops can make a Plant to Stand
As a Tree, This can give Shelter to a Lot.
Because of Waste of Tiny, Tiny water Drops
Many lives have become short.
So try to save even tiny water Drop, Which will
Get you Heartily Laugh.
poem by Narendra Kuppan
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Little Guns
Tiny people, with little guns
Little armies march, to little drums
What do they want?
What do they want?
Tiny soldiers, with little guns
Little tanks, no bigger than your thumb
They want you
Little people, with tiny brains
Little bullets flowing, in their veins
What do they want?
What do they want?
Tiny people with little guns
Little armies march, to little drums
They want you, you
You, you, you, you
Little airplanes, with tiny bombs
Little squadrons, dropping thimbles of napalm
They want you
What do they want?
What do they want?
Tiny people, with little guns
Little armies march, to little drums
You, you
You, you, you, you
Tiny people, little guns
Tiny people, little guns
Tiny people, little guns
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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King Of The Mountain
Come on
Im gonna climb the mountain
Im gonna hit the top
I wanna go where nobodys ever been
Im never gonna stop
Im gonna reign, Im gonna shine
Im gonna beat the ground
Im gonna shoot through the night like a shot gun
Im gonna get on down, I wanna get on down
Im the king of the mountain, Im the king of the mountain
Listen, dont try to save my soul from destruction
Im never gonna fall
Dont try to give me a piece of the action
Im gonna take it all
All the kings horses, all the kings men
Were gettin crazy again and again
Make up your mind, its time we get goin
Were gonna get on down, were gonna get on down
Im the king of the mountain, Im the king of the mountain
Im the king of the mountain, Im the king of the mountain
Yeah, now
Oh, yeah, king of the mountain
Say it, king of the mountain
Im the king of the mountain, Im the king of the mountain, yeah
Im the king of the mountain
And the winner takes it all, lets go, lets go, lets go
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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St. Helens
This volcanic mountain stands in great majesty
Pregnant with knowledge o'er time
Upon the threshold of birthing baskests of lava filled knowledge
Todays Pilgrims take on its steep climb;
Longing for answers of its history
Of this planet and perhaps e'en beyond
At the base of this most gand mountain
The Pilgrims kneel in awe of what has been found;
Cavernous caves formed o'er the years
Tiny echos of the pilgrims voices are heard
Nearby-birds in a nest-make for the best
Flying 'neath the mountain are the Bluebirds;
In the space surrounding this mountain
Multiple eulogies are played in the thin air
But with nary a casket only knowledge filled lava baskets
Words of knowledge of the mountain now lay bare;
Mount Saint Helens
In Remembrance of Her Eruption in 1980
And how many of my aunts and uncles
Had to move further away because of the
Volcanic ash and debris in the air.
poem by Theodora Onken
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A little Flower
A flower grew out of the ground
A tiny flower from the dirt
A tiny living soul from underground
A baby crawling from the dirt
A little innocence of wild color
A tiny spark of hope
A tiny pleasure free of charge
A flower that i called my own
A little baby ran towards it
A tiny flower crushed beneath the feet
A little human innocence
A little bliss destroyed by ignorance
A little flower dead on the ground
A little baby jumping up and down
And only me from my own window, witnessed the death of my own flower beneath the feet of blissful child without idea of his first crime...
poem by Dmitriy Kokarev
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Waves
I saw a tiny God
Sitting
Under a bright blue umbrella
That had white tassels
And forked ribs of gold.
Below him His little world
Lay open to the sun.
The shadow of His hat
Lay upon a city.
When he stretched forth His hand
A lake became a dark tremble.
When he kicked up His foot
It became night in the mountain passes.
But thou art small!
There are gods far greater than thou.
They rise and fall,
The tumbling gods of the sea.
Can thy heart heave such sighs,
Such hollow savage cries,
Such windy breath,
Such groaning death?
And can thy arm enfold
The old,
The cold,
The changeless dreadful places
Where the herds
Of horned sea-monsters
And the screaming birds
Gather together?
From those silent men
That lie in the pen
Of our pearly prisons,
Canst thou hunt thy prey?
Like us canst thou stay
Awaiting thine hour,
And then rise like a tower
And crash and shatter?
There are neither trees nor bushes
In my country,
Said the tiny God.
But there are streams
And waterfalls
And mountain-peaks
Covered with lovely weed.
There are little shores and safe harbours,
Caves for cool and plains for sun and wind.
Lovely is the sound of the rivers,
Lovely the flashing brightness
Of the lovely peaks.
I am content.
But Thy kingdom is small,
Said the God of the Sea.
Thy kingdom shall fall;
I shall not let thee be.
Thou art proud!
With a loud
Pealing of laughter,
He rose and covered
The tiny God's land
With the tip of his hand,
With the curl of his fingers:
And after--
The tiny God
Began to cry
poem by Katherine Mansfield
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Anna Nicole
Anna Nicole
was a very young soul.
This lifetime
she didn't want
to get old.
She did not
incarnate here a lot,
So she made a pact
to speed it up.
Now she has the simple
life on the other side,
no more gossip mags
ruining her name
with pride.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on April 12,2011
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Atlantic City
On a bus I did ride,
to the NJ Seaside.
Ten years earlier I was also there,
with my aunts with golden curly white hair.
That's when Trump made a splash,
offering old lady a lot of cash.
Madonna was on her Blonde Ambition tour,
dominating all of the world.
Now Great Aunt Mary and Aunt Joanie,
did go with me,
to Trump's casino in Atlantic City.
Gambling nickels was their bet,
I did not gamble-had to pay the rent.
Tiny little red notebook I did buy,
writing stories by oceanside.
Writing on trains and subways too,
all stories still there, there's quite a few.
Now in 2000 I when I went there again
visited Long Island to see my friends.
Went to Javits Convention Ctr in NYC
saw licensed characters who were cute and silly.
Yes this was the year I missed my plane,
Year before Twin Towers fell in sadness and pain.
Would visit NYC again and again,
everything has really changed.
The National September 11 Memorial & Museum
will open up this year,
residents will remember friends so dear.
Now my Great Aunt passed away,
will have to visit the boardwalk once again.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on May 23,2011
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Mountain Woman
They lived together in a dirty old shack
At the edge of the black rocky mountain
And they drank mountain dew and they lived on the food
That they grew at the side of the mountain
Shes a mountain woman, hes her mountain man
They [? ] down the valley
Shes a mountain woman, hes her mountain man
Uneducated but theyre happy
Mountain woman couldnt read nor write
But she knew good from evil, she know wrong from right
When the government tried to buy her water rights
Her intuition was her only guide
Shes a mountain woman, hes her mountain man
They [? ] by the valley
Shes a mountain woman, hes her mountain man
Uneducated but theyre happy
Spend my life with my mountain woman
Were uneducated by were happy
The civil servant used compulsory purchase
To acquire the [? ] for the nation
Theyll dig up the land, theyre gonna make a dam
And build a hydroelectric power station
And now she lives on the 33rd floor
Of a man-made concrete mountain
She got an elevator and refrigerator
And an automobile to run around in
Fast talkin lawyers from the government
Went and beat proud mountain woman down
Hey mountain woman, take your mountain man
They took your land and flood your valley
Spend my life with my mountain woman
Theyre uneducated by theyre happy
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waves Of Light
Indian guy blows light in my eyes,
It was glowing—totally mezmorized.
He says everything has a glowing aura
That he can see,
When he walks among the plants and the trees.
We are made of fast moving light,
we can’t see it in dark or night.
He says there is no karma to go through,
that we should just go with the flow and have fun too.
He lives in Vegas and travels the USA,
He was made fun of in India so he doesn’t go there today.
People don’t believe what they can’t see, so they don't conceive.
I will hopefully see Indian guru again,
have many more questions without end.
Written by Suzae Chevalier August 22,2011
www.purplepoems.com www.puppetpoems.com
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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The Other
I sit at this tiny table
and wait
as I have before
for you to make
excuses to get
away;
to steal the tiny time
you have with me.
I know I should go,
break away
and leave
but I don't.
I sip my coffee
swirling in the cup
mixing my milk
and your strong brew.
Perhaps one day
there will be a me and you
but today-right now
there is only me.
I feel you at my side
suddenly
your face
comes over me
and once again
there is the peace
you offer
each time we meet.
That is the drug
which overpowers
each time
I
the other woman;
and we
reach across
the tiny table
re-joined
in tiny time
the tiny space
we allow ourselves
to enjoy
rarely,
this other me
that other you.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Big and tiny creatures
Big and tiny creatures, are so unique each one,
But they're so amazing each one, out in the noon day sun;
For example, look at the spider, and the web she doth make,
So clever and wonderful, and the time she doth take.
Big and tiny creatures, I am amazed each one I see,
Look at the pigmy possum, trying to hide in a tree;
It's color goes in with the background scene,
But he will cover his steps to hide where he's been.
Big and tiny creatures, do you like the tall giraffe?
To think his neck is so tall, his length is longer than a raft;
Then there's the whale, out in the huge sea,
Moaning and groaning to his mate, amazing do you agree?
Big and tiny creatures, like the tiny crab, or the large hippo,
What about the large elephant, and the tiny ant on the go;
Each one has a job to do, yet both care for their young,
They travel far, travel wide, busy in the hot sun.
Big and tiny creatures, colors some so pretty,
Such as the butterfly, and the flamingo, agree;
Then there is the snakes, and the parrots too,
We should thank God for each one, where thanks is due.
poem by Margaret Haig
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Conquer Your Mountain!
Behold your mountain, mark it well,
This challenge and this quest
And then with prophecy foretell,
One day you will be blessed...
It's just one mountain, nothing more,
Unconquered for a time,
Until the day God lets you soar,
Triumphant and sublime...
With preparations well in hand,
Your journey thus begins,
It's paramount such things are planned,
Because the air soon thins...
The cold must be endured, brave soul
And fear must be cast out,
Such that your faith maintains control
And dominates your doubt!
Consider how Mankind was made,
How God made Adam first
And then from him, one rib was laid,
Such that new life emerged...
From what you are, God takes a part,
Then gives a hundredfold,
So when you give, give from the heart,
New blessings to behold...
Your mountain can be conquered, friend,
It's up to you to try,
For when you win, then at the end,
Your hand will touch the sky...
And God's hand, too, from Heaven's throne
Will reach to your hand there...
To share with you that joy unknown,
The answer to your prayer!
Denis Martindale, copyright, December 2011.
The Christian poem is based on GOD TV's vision for 2012
which was explained in their December 2011 newsletter.
Just after the poem was done, I saw a TV show with titles
that ended with the famous Paramount Studios mountain,
so the poem was changed to include a reference to it.
GOD TV on Sky and Freesat and Virgin Media.
Website: god-dot-tv
poem by Denis Martindale
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