Alexander Coppedge

Rookie - 80 Points (June 25,1954 / Warrenton, North Carolina)

I Do - Poem by Alexander Coppedge

I want to be, in my life, something special.
What in this whole world, shall I try to be?
I, a lone worm, flip wiggling in trying strides.
A bird on a high watch, me, prey seeking.

I, a creeping turtle, popping head out mud.
A sidewinder twist slithering, me, in grass.
Me, big swimming fish, under the deep sea.
Hooked up weasel gnarled: aimed I to beat.

Only I hold vital have choice, in me, being.
Figure to be sought, to be, must be kind.
I see them wise, a chest holder, with virtues.
Them honest aimed heart: others can claim.

Choice of my being: not, so odd or strange.
Considering all selections: I to be, like me.
A thoughtful beloved caring happy person.
You cross me, waving with hi, and see.

Faith trusting to give, helper to breed hope.
I, wondering foreigner, passing you in rain.
My voice to be with blessed things clever.
A kind giver, I considered generous, indeed.

A speaker with divine words tranced chants.
I in intents must be esteemed in all degrees.
Beliefs views giving us riches and big gains.
I, as blood in human heart, healer working.

Peace I to give, repetitiously, awakening us.
I to be, something, perfect pitched in tone.
Meadows green, flourishing, we can graze.
I presenting, to all a table, crops reaped.

Mouth's treats flowing for us in fortunes.
Notes I will play amplifying love in sound.
Vision, I to give, leading out of darkness.
My truth bell ringing birth of wisdom.

Choice is ear catch I to play music, simply.
I to have a word to wipe tears with truth.
Me to be, being, beyond others opinions.
Intents is me becoming, fulfilling something.

I able to see, of those, most needed dreams.
Me becoming the greatest thing: all I can be.
I will pluck out progress for us upon a harp.
Strings bangs, I clang, sounding its twangs.

Song to sing, I with tap warming thoughts.
I, high stepping, marching among masses.
I to yield true need to be a beacon to guide.
My light out beaming, as bright, as the sun.

Being a winner, I leaving old denials.
Sightless shadows of my hate going behind.
I able to resurrect back people aimed to die.
Able I to be one to feed world hunger pain.

I and them, being one, coming in reasoning.
United together, joined combating enemies.
Against host without regards or love for us.
Leaders in a world that aims starves.

My fingers to be playing notes of freedom.
My fight to be with wild killing machine.
Vigorously, I am plucking, daily playing.
I for righteous liberties.

Topic(s) of this poem: goals, human condition

Form: Prose Poem

Poet's Notes about The Poem

My storage of written treasures and their delights

Comments about I Do by Alexander Coppedge

  • Freshman - 537 Points Mohabeer Beeharry (8/26/2013 8:47:00 AM)

    To write and to write with a message and a purpose is the greatness of a poet.
    There are both here. Congrats.i like it very much.

    Mohabeer Beeharry (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Monday, August 26, 2013

Poem Edited: Monday, October 12, 2015

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