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Featured Poetry: Week Starting Sunday, July 24, 2016

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 1     

I am the Pen

I am the pen 
that writes the song.
I am and the scribe
that you can easily bribe.

I write it as it is.
I write it true.

"Liar!"

I write about me
I'm right about you.

You sit there in your ink stained dress.


You sweat in the changing room.
you wrestle with the zip.
You look in the mirror
You pout your lip
The curtain opens to a silent applause.
What do you think?

"Skinny jeans and fat legs 
don't mix."

You are the geek 
You are "man about town!"

Your intention is good.

"It had a really nice hood"

You feed the machine 
Slavery, obscene.

With you mark 
you prance in the park
And next week
you will throw it all away 
and start the process 
all over again.

Prime colours 
Stop press!
Black is in!

“as black as dark matter ”

The newspaper rattles 
 its nonsensical natter.


I am the pen 
that inflates you mind.
I am the pen 
That tells you what ‘s in
and what's sound

Yesterday’s adverts
May well never have happened
O- pen your mind
See what you might find

I present to you 
the all new green
I-noodle trousers
made by slaves in
Victorian poor houses


You think you need this
I think you need that

It's in your basket

and so you
Buy! Buy! Buy!

And when you die
It’s bye! bye! bye!

Copyright © Tony Kirk | Year Posted 2015



Resonation

Resonation

no-one at first heard the tumult
the question to the arts,
take that
scythe rip that canvas crack that bronze
bust that marble
shatter it to shards

I heard the howl of a suffering soul
most recent in the line of bards…
no-one at first heard the cries
or played those tarot cards…

the prophecy was grim
gate-keepers of the holy shroud
did not acknowledge him
critics dismissed
professors critiqued

but she's' burst forth from the psyche and that collective conscience we all have though not ready for her resonated the soul

turning topsy turvy upside down blasted from with in
you old masters--
keepers of the kingdom blasted by a rebel yell
most foul
the Howl she barks a new tune with with syntax and symbols unacceptable
to all but a loon

we know it now we look out the horizon from the rim
She's here she's born
he bellowed the boon
And she anew will return again
I heard it once the howl of the suffering soul…

Copyright © Toni Orban | Year Posted 2015

Sad Love

Stocking soda....
Rising from the cellar
With an unfinished coda.
Poor, possessed fella.

Rising from the cellar.
Watching for her,
Poor, possessed fella.
The world a spinning blur.

Watching for her,
Elvis knees, gut fails.
The world a spinning blur.
Down the block she sails.

Elvis knees, gut fails,
Forever chasing light.
Down the block she sails.
A firefly in flight

Forever chasing light,
Until a darkness done.
A firefly in flight.
A madness on the run.

Until a darkness done,
With an unfinished coda.
A madness on the run,
Stocking soda....

Copyright © Tom Arnone | Year Posted 2016

Debt

And why this curse was placed on me
base of hallow lands
and why it fell with so much glee
from lace of someone's hands

to follow me from crib to grave
to gut me once and yet to taunt
to covet me into a slave
a ghost appears but not to haunt

to tell a tale this apparition
to show me pain without regret
to settle me, not the rendition
of a man that no one's met

for like the tree I'm in the forest
but unlike them, I can't be heard
and for my lot I should be sorest
because I've lived in the absurd

I scramble now from fear to sadness
looking for my days gone bye
and once they swore that I was the badness
as they told me not to cry

And in myself I still believe him
perched upon his safety net
but I have given more than one limb
I have paid his endless debt


Copyright © Timothy Barry | Year Posted 2016

Benjamin Franklin

Benjamin Franklin was known for many a-things
Longing for reality to spring from his dreams
On a wild stormy night made a discovery
A dastardly magic called electricity!

However I would bet highly you didn't know
Of Benji's hauntingly beautiful crystal show
Victorian lasses died and went to heaven
The glass armonica swooned even his brethren

Benjamin Franklin was certainly a legend
To live without his gifts is hard to imagine
I see him now and then if I'm super lucky
His noble face glued to artificial money

Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2013

Villanelle: The Dilemma of the Non-Violent - 28

Villanelle: The Dilemma of the Non-Violent- 28

These vain Little Men who strut on the World Stage
Come together again the twenty-first time
Can this polluted earth be saved at this stage

The World is yours mine must not be held hostage
By men who pout vapid irate words as mime
These vain Little Men who strut on the World Stage

Far more than kami-kaze terror carnage
Melting ice-cap Poles promise Fire Next Time
Can this polluted earth be saved at this stage

Watch how for profit wild fires worldwide rage
While leaders read ghosted-scripts to waste our time
These Little Men who strut on the World Stage

Earth’s shield pierced by lethal Sun’s rays wreak damage
Mutate living organisms make rot clime
Can this polluted earth be saved at this stage

Would such men who care only for polls image
Remember mighty empires last not a rhyme
These vain Little Men who strut on the World Stage
Can this polluted earth be saved at this stage

© T. Wignesan – Paris,  2015

Copyright © T Wignesan | Year Posted 2015

No Parents

I got a freeway view
Behind the curtains 
Piano sounds like broken glass
I can see the darkness from the bed
They keep banging away at the door
But I won't let them in
What I am is what I am
They want philosophy

Out by the freeway we drink beer
Under the halogen lights
Watching the trucks roll by
Wishing we could be Bobby McGee
Bandana and all
But we're just kids
Chucked in to deep
No place to sleep.

No parents.
No life.
Just in life to deep.

Copyright © Stephen Kilmer | Year Posted 2015

Mornings in July

Mornings In July


Mornings in July are oblivious.
They know nothing about the newspaper headlines
Or the relentless crashing of ocean waves
Under a pissed off crescent moon.
They see nothing. They hear nothing. They feel nothing.
Mornings in July are incognizant about everything.
Except for the ever silent bruising rise of the sun.
But they haven’t heard the orgasmic screams of a billion lovers
Seeking mindless sanity on a darkling pillow.
And they haven’t seen the struggling caterpillar
Spin its bloody violent cocoon.
They could care or less if you breathe or sweat.
They ceased to be concerned
When the big wrecking ball of Earthly existence
Came crashing into the big neon Psyche
Six thousand years ago.
Mornings in July know nothing, absolutely nothing.
Except for the ever silent bruising rise of the sun.

Copyright © stark hunter | Year Posted 2013

to the ku klux klan Part 1

To all of the grandest of wizards of the ku klux klan
as well as to all of your members be they woman or man.
To all hate groups worldwide and through out America's great land.
Prepare for your own extinction. It will be delivered by your own hand.
With great risk of offending The Neanderthal, 
you're all much like they were and like they you will fall.
Neanderthals didn't have the ability to learn any new knowledge.
If they were with us today, I doubt you'd see many in college.
You lack that same ability to open up your mind and learn.
Your ignorance has damned many of your children to death and/or prison, 
never again to return.
Your convictions breed hatred, stupidity, ignorance and worse.
I truly understand. It's your hereditary curse.
You keep alive the concepts of hatred and racism
by passing this stupidity on to your innocent children,
but in time all of your children will one day leave your nest
and make some very brave decisions not in your best interest.
They'll learn that the concept of race is not only morally divisively strong,
it's a concept that has been scientifically proven wrong.

To continue click NEXT for to the ku klux klan Part 2

Copyright © SillyBilly theKidster | Year Posted 2009

Raggedy Weeds

                                                       Raggedy Weeds Poem
                                                            

   Here is my poem on weeds, not the kind you smoke. 

Raggedy Weeds ?

Have you ever really looked at a weed
Not at all like the beautiful flowers from seed
Angrily, we pull them from our gardens
How dare they take over without even a“pardon”

Petunias, Zinnias, Daises, Roses as red as a flame
Weeds, have you ever bothered to know their name
Tall ones, short ones, all shapes, and sizes
Not at all like our lovely plants that win prizes

Walking across the field on an autumn day
A rainbow of color glistened along the way
On closer view, it was grasses and weeds
Not beautiful flowers from seeds

Should I dismiss their beauty seen from afar
Scraggly looking up close their splendor did mar
No, look in and out of the weeds, butterflies flutter
Silently, no sounds do they utter

Alighting on raggedy stems with tiny flowers
Their sweet nectar they love to devour
Some of the weeds are mashed down
What is this that runs the weeds to the ground

A home for rabbits, snakes, possums, and coons
Usually, only seen under the light of a full moon
Could it be that weeds survive 
To give honey to bumble bees for their hives

To provide animals food, protection, and a home
To enable them on this earth to still roam
There are some destructive weeds that are concerning
Realistically, we have to be discerning

Weeds neither work nor toil
Still God finds a place for them in the soil
Some weeds should be pulled indeed
There are others that provide a need
                                                
So today or tomorrow, really look at a shaggy weed      
Try not to compare it to a beautiful flower from seed
Seek the delicate flower among the raggedy leaves before you moan
You may discover a purpose and beauty all it's own 

Copyright © Shirley Rebstock | Year Posted 2015

Motionless is Deceptive

The frost is in my toes, 
                                         riming the up tilted boulders,
and twinkling the night sky, 
                                                  like a cold breath blown
and whooshing clear off the plateau into the arms
of the universe. 
                              Ah, standing still is spinning
all axis in step to be motion free except the heated
breath of the stars condensing and exploding.
Just diamonds or dewdrops, 
                                                   a taste of eternity
swallowed. 
                     Analyzed. 
                                        Understood. 
                                                                 And gone.
Me scrunching down, counting the meter
until full exposure. 
                                  Listening for the mating cries
of crickets absent in the last dying down of autumn.
I hold onto my self, then. 
                                               Great big hug and release.
Fall into the tumble of earth churned rock.
                                                                             No one
but me
                   to see  the castaway burning through
to my side. Call them meteorite, spore, seed planted
for tomorrow traveling the empty spaces of time
wondering when, how, where the tick tick tick
of radiation
                      changes our bodies and our minds.
To be melted down, patted onto others, cataclysmic
blown and find a way to solidify, decorate
                                                                             and blaze.

Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper | Year Posted 2012

Cozy

Im going to lay down for a while
Will you cuddle with me?
Face to face, soulful smiles
Eyes connected, looking deep

I touch your hair and face
Your hand upon my chest
Marvel at this sacred space
As we touch and stare and rest

Warm hand on my tummy
Penetrates my whole body
Filled with feelings oh so yummy
Safe, secure, adored, carefree 

As we lay in comfort sleepy
Wrapped in arms soft and tight
Without a word you read me
We close our eyes for the night

Copyright © SCOTT HARRIS | Year Posted 2014

The Hurt

Hurt, disappointment, shame
It hurts just to reflect on your name
Why do you do the shameful things
Bringing down our family name

You are very ill
I know the agony that you face each day
Surely upsets you in every way
But there is help if you will depend on God

He loves you and will protect you
Covering you with his love

Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2009

My Garden


I attend to my garden each day,
   though a tedious task, it is true.
With the seeds of ambition, I pray
   it will flourish for me and for you.

Do you know how it prospers my dears?
   With the sunshine of radiant love,
and the moisture of falling wet tears,
   intermittently splashed from above.

And by nurturing it with the swell
   of bright hope for each new shining day;
the faith fetched from my deepest dark well,
   it will grow in a glorious way.

Then by weeding it daily, it should
   give new seedlings room needed to grow.
Quick removing unwanted dead wood,
   left uncluttered its beauty will show

As my blooms open wide in the sun,
   all their colors will blend bright and dim.
I’ll caress them so gently, each one,
   and breathe deeply the fragrance within

Through the Summer, my garden will spread
   filling spaces so barren before,
and not fearing the Winter ahead
   it will flourish and thrive even more.

Now I know with the coming of Fall
   my old garden will soon fade away.
But through Winter sleep wait for the call
   to awake on another Spring day.


Sandra M. Haight

~1st Place~
Contest: Screwed VIII
Sponsor: Rob Carmack
Judged: 12/03/2015

~N/A~
Contest: Anapest Trimeter
Sponsor: Pendleton Arkwright
Judged” 12/31/2014



Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2014

SPRING'S LOVELINESS TOUCHES

Loveliness of scenes ethereal
Overwhelms in my garden so
Verdant in vivacious life’s rev
Enticing elegance makes love
Luscious camellia so beautiful
Inciting white petals so chichi 
Now bloom at me and beckon
Exquisite touches of pleasure
Suffuse me in wonder glorious
Spring you are most sensuous!


(written 2/16/2016)

Copyright © San Woo | Year Posted 2016

Tiger's Wood

Tiger was a young golfer quite good
But didn't shoot as straight as he should
    He'd stray out of bounds
    While making his rounds
Because he couldn't master his wood

March 23, 2013

Copyright © Roy Jerden | Year Posted 2013

Summer In Winter

winter's muffled voice
summer hangs on forever
thirsting for snowflakes 

Copyright © Robyn Campbell | Year Posted 2015

Flight Of Joy

If
I could
only fly
among the clouds
I'd soar light and free
leaving the earth behind
and with it my earthly woe.
I'd dance across the Heavenscape
to angelic serenades, so sweet,
and in my joyous flight I would find peace.

Copyright © Robin L. Gass | Year Posted 2008

The Ideal Air Force Wife

An Ode To Vera Selena (Osburn) Hinshaw

It takes a very special lady to be an ideal Air Force wife,
To face the many challenges and vicissitudes of Air Force life.

Even though it meant moving every few years to a different place,
You became a seasoned veteran as we moved from base to base.

You made a house a home whether in the states or foreign lands.
I marveled at your flexibility and left things in your capable hands.

When moving through the ranks and Lord knows at times money was tight,
But you worked marvels with hamburger meat and taters much to my delight!

You understood when I was called to duty and missed family celebrations,
But you pressed on, nurturing the girls and kept busy with various organizations.

As we advanced in rank you met social obligations with pride and grace.
You taught Sunday School and Girl Scouts leaving each base a better place!

You supported me and helped me earn each stripe I wore upon my sleeve,
Plus the various commendations and medals I was honored to receive.

Honey, thanks for standing by me - these accolades are well deserved.
The girls and I are very proud of you, since you also faithfully served!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2015 All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2015

About , Those Angel Eyes

About , Those Angel Eyes

Silently basking in your soft and gentle light
  living deep within your natural glow
Your precious lips tell all a man needs to know 
  as heaven you cast into the starlight night 


That night across the room I first saw those loving eyes
  there hope cast into my soul winning your hand and heart
Thoughts of bliss and life that should never see us part
  I swore an oath to win you should it take a thousand tries


By your loving side, softly resting in your gentle shade
  stars faded to your light as the moon sought your love
Angels dancing in rhythm singing glory from far above
  pale against steamy nights and the hot love we made
  

Your soul and spirit were to seed my desperate cries 
  for your loving kisses and touch to ever so die for
Love sent me play for , yes to even beg much more 
  for paradise resting in the light of those angel eyes

Robert L.  05-08-2014

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2014



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