stairway to the stars
celestial light beckons me
no puddles overflow with tears
my life’s silent movie
reruns in my mind
not a loved one left behind
those I cherish
wait for me
lingering in paradise
below the Earth loses color
even the pyramids
to those still confined in the worldly realm
no legacy I leave
just a kiss that carries
rapidly vanishing memories
my final farewell
*Written September 4, 2014, by Carolyn Devonshire
For Guatami’s “The Poet II – Poetry Contest”
Theme: Leave you a kiss
Lost in a poets convention,
I can't recall every poem, I've read through the years
50518, unique comments I 'validate'---
Thank You For Sharing Your Happy and Sad tears
Since March 24, 2010 In the mist of every line,
I'm sending special hugs, for he/she that favorite me through the years
A praise to all poets mentioned and not mentioned
I will miss, the sweetest girl on this block LEONORA G.,
She treats me with love, adores my words and twisted poetry.
I will start with the soups famous October, 7th babies,
Frank and Kash, Debbie D, and myself, these lines belong to us,
Our best characteristic has everything to do with the mind
In our poetic hearts you'll find the symbol of justice and balance
This is not a song, it is not a poem, it's a free falling memo written with style
Back in March 2013, I said it then, I'll say it again
Andrea, you and only you are the Poet Queen
By the Queen, sits the Poet King of rhymes, Robert L. Hinshaw
Thank you both for never stepping on your loyal subjects
Carol B., & Linda Marie, no one can replace the hole you left inside
I will miss all the little poetry pups, who came and sat by my side
MAHIMA and Saanvi, and Sabrina, thank you for the encouragement
Phyllis, Joyce, Francine, Rhonda, Betty, sweet Karen A., and Catie,
Clap your hands for the lovely quiet soup ladies.
Okay, maybe not Karen A., and Catie, these ladies love speaking their minds:)
SARA K., a mentor to some, a Fairy Godmother in my book
I will miss her "Magic Pen like Wand" dearly.
Gail, thank you for spreading your wings, and teaching us how to fly.
Hopefully --wings are a nice gesture, --waving--
"One day I'll see you again, my friend."
Daver Austin, "Go ahead, make my day" thank you for the show
Now, you know why I referred to you as, "The Clint Eastwood of Poetry."
Russell Survey, encouraged my days and moods with his kind words
Scribe ML., where are you my friend?
Don't you know your BIGGEST FAN misses you!!!
Dr Ram, Bindu V, Litan D., Donna J, Shadow, Sandra A., Peter Durgan,
Giorgio V., Mystic Rose, BL Devnath and of course our Nette.
Thank you for being kind and rewinding and replying to every note.
Joseph M., Caleb S., Vincent F., Juliet L., Lucy Carrillo, Scott 37, Johnny R.,
Kelly D., thank you for the honor in always honoring my words
Roger Horsch meets Eileen Ghali, your smile, her smile always made me smile,
No matter how many miles apart, our smiles always met on the same page.
Jenish, Don J., S.Z. Kamoonpuri, Gideon, Gary, Austin E., and Jody M.,
Fatima N., Mark N., Aiyah B., Ralph F., Kathryn C., Elly, Ayesha A.,
Clay W., Erich, Syam, MIKKI, John B., Olusegun, *Sukmawati* Gwen,
Delysia H., Frederic P., Richard L., Brenda L., Keith, Debbie G.,
Thank you for painting the best IMAGERY
Michale Clarke, Charma C., Wayland B., Jancarl C., Carrie, and Harry,
M&M, Abdulhafeez, Michael B., Maria P. S., CHAN and Mandy T.
You are only the beginning of what makes this a good community
Arlid A., Dinda M., Silly Billy, Tim Ryerson, we go way back.
Ravindra, Kim M., Richard S., Honestly JT., Wade A., Dom-X.
The ingredients in your poems, makes the best soup remix
Joe M., Jack H., James H., James P., Tim B., Jon A. C., Allan K., Matthew A.
Deb Wilson, David S., David William, Thomas S., Cecilia M.
Keep that pen flowing for tomorrow needs poets like you.
Justin B., Laura B., your words will continue to be a part of me.
Owen Y., and John L., your visits, your friendship I will never forget
Yasmin and Carl F., hanging out with you on the soup was the best.
Cherl Dunn, and Colleen Bono, SandyIvy, I will miss everything about you,
Mostly I will miss your friendship and the way you took care of me.
Poet and sister Skat, keep rocking what I can't....
Copy paste your love, welcome in the new.
Show Edwina, Robin, Sam B., and all the NEW POETS they belong
Last but not least-- Behind every mess, they are the best
--Craig Cornish and Cyndi McMillan
What have you done, I admit without you this place would have been no fun.
Thank you for the spin, making every penny worth our paid premium memberships
Before I forget,
I want to take this time to reminisce and add two old friends to my hot list.
Nikko and Chris A..... My first POETRY SOUP FRIENDS.
I will never forget you, and all the fun moments we had,
Back when the soup was not like this:)
Chris, can you ever forgive me, I never stepped up to say "I was Sorry!"
As you know my kindness is my weakness
Now it's time to be strong and move on
If one day I return, then you know, I fell off the wagon
And, into arms and luring fingers of Team Poetry Soup
The Poet Destroyer
When my final shadows cling on desperately
Where I fight formidable battles
to merely hold the light
I send you loving vibrations
and soul sustenance
Deep from the cathedral
of one heart to another
where today no choirs sing
nor symphonies play
Yet it is here where we meet
in spiritual solace
here to surrender
and exchange inestimable treasures
like unopened letters
Galaxies are stretched
over chronicles of shared history
Nebula birthing stars
will be exposed
in forth-coming conversations
bringing short-lived fulfillment to you
Hungry to feast
now will be the time
to approve your blood art vision
and with my own haunting surrender
as dappled shades ink stain your chest
I will reside with you and share, mesmerised
pens - by branding
as this will be your written reams to me
your artist's pallet or brushed canvas
no need for words
and yet creating
mysterious magical moments
Bitter-sweet the music
that dances taut guitar strings
but now blood approved
please go kick your heel up
return to your laughter
and ride on the breeze
for not all are lost
for I am with you always
to love, listen and comfort as one
with you in me and I in you
Tonight,motionless is my sleep
without a thought of you passing my mind
And if the wafting wind breathes softly its zephyr breeze
upon the pearl blush of my cheek
I will not remember you
Like the rattling sound of crickets
on the first branch of Spring
you had come and gone
Now your shadow
blocks the silver of my moon,no more
Like a woodpecker in its last sonata
you stole our music
but I am learning how to dance
without your song
scattered in silence on autumn's sidewalk
Fluttering snowflakes covered my hair
with false proposals and winter frost
Your summer footprints have been washed out
I lay in solitude,I lay in solitude
yet still not lost,No,still not lost
Here I am now, a mourning swan yet still a swan
which pirouettes on a glass stream
There He comes now, splash in calm beauty
Fresh face reflecting upon my dream
Tonight,motionless is my sleep
and if the wafting wind breathes softly its zephyr breeze
upon the pearl blush of my cheek
I will not remember you
Inspired by Elton John's song- 'The One'
there is something about the cuddle of mist
that washes the pain of love's farewell
like a damp of healing elixir,
so softly touching my navel
to ignite back the glaze
within my marrow;
and breaths sing with playful twilight
about fresh enchantment blessed...
now i greet the flowering of joy
with unopened gifts,
knowing goodbye is a beautiful wound
as one star plays night keeper of reflective hours
humming a new tune, dainty yet unknown,
that in the solace born from ache and joy,
i welcome it all-- the fire, wonder, and sighs.
Any Poem #5 Contest: Nathan A.
I want to love you,
But how can I, when you... you treat me like this!?
No more! No more! No more!
I loved you once and have for always.
But no more will I love you for who you have become, but for who you
My love, I love you but this is my farewell.
His rheumy eyes film over and he brushes away a tear
with the age-spotted back of his hand.
He watches himself as a young man –
handsome, vigorous, full of joie de vivre.
The members of his orchestra now arthritic.
Or ashes long since scattered into oblivion,
like the beautiful soprano in the film.
But for the duration of the archive footage
they are all young again.
The film ends and their philharmonic youth
is silent memory once more.
He struggles to press rewind but his gnarled finger
presses fast-forward by mistake.
He thinks that time has been on fast-forward
and wishes he could find the rewind control for his life.
With a sigh, he presses play and fades away,
watching his immortal youth.
free in a moment
but everyone wants it
a single second
oh so pleasant
now its gone
life rages on
here's the war
join the corps
there's the pain
that keeps us sane
the toll of death
taking every last breath
the innocence of youth
the freest of any moment
leaving now just the truth
maturity is your atonement
A legend dwells in the polar biosphere of isolation,
In the frigid nomadic country of Siberia,
Within the forests of mighty Russia, this is the realm
Of the Manimal.
It waits in the night, lurking amongst the shadows
Of the mountains, hear its primeval screams,
Echoing through the deep valleys river bed, its
Soundings shock waves, causes an avalanche,
That slams against the rocky hillsides for miles around.
It is a warnings decree, dare not enter into this
Baron waste land of ice and snow, for it belongs
To the unseen, the beast.
Alone canvas tent does stand, as a
Testaments memorial, for nine brave souls,
Oh for their youthful hearts, whom believed
That they were bullet proof, do you remember
Those days, my friend.
Experienced hikers, natives to this harsh environment,
Prepared for calamity sake, except for the wild man,
The stalker whom followed behind them in the darkness.
Farther and farther, did these children of the remote go,
Into the forbidden zone of the unknown, hearing
In the distance braking branches, and low growling's
The Manimal awaits thee, step forward to greet him,
And shake the clawed hands of death itself,
Glimpse his primate fangs, dripping with drools
Anticipation, for a raw fleshes feast.
For this is a creature of instinctual desires, and you've
Entered into his hunting grounds, humanity is now
On the menu.
You've should have known better my young friends,
Are we not of higher intelligence, nay in this icy
Jungle of the Manimal, for here he rains supreme, the highest
Predator on the food chain.
Torn apart, and left buried alive, this is a truthful legend,
On why, mankind should leave his curiosity at home.
Nine went into the wild lands of Siberia,
And none came out alive.
Alone canvas tent does so stand, as a memorial
Unto them, in this frigid land of ice and snow,
In the Polar Biosphere of mighty Russia, as the
Echoing screams of the beast, called the Manimal,
Awaits amongst the mountains shadows, hungry for
His next meals encounter.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Dedicated to the nine brave.
In the garden of forbidden mysticism, grows thus sorrows
Black rose bush, deeply rooted are the vines of incantations
Dark spells of discontent, drawing it's evil powers of the
Supernatural from the crimson soil.
Plucked are these ebony blossoms, by the hand of death
Himself, the Grim Reaper, and tenderly he places them upon the
Unmarked graves of the living, but only a single bloom.
Nay in Salem's orchard, did these darkened petals fall,
Blowing in the breeze of misfortune,
Castings’ leaving’s of the innocent a shunned, so unjustly
Accused and misjudged.
But strung on the blood lines of truth, do so ring
The bells of vengeance rage, echoing in the far distance,
Hear their ethereal voices of the forsaken, crying out why?
For every evergreen leaf, is the representation of inheritances
Legacy to those of the forgotten and betrayed.
Dipped in red ink is the mighty quilt pen, of the dark
Hooded Inquisitor, behold a dead man's list of names,
Burnt offerings sacrificed on the alter of a corrupt pulpit.
Written on fleshes supple parchment scroll, and sanctified by
The greed of deceit.
Oh woe to thee whom bares the witches mark, for in Salem
Thou’ art doomed, by the serpent's fork tongue of innocence,
Nay suffer the little children, but here they are the wolves set
Amongst the lambs of the innocent.
Beware their howl by day or night, for in fierceness's bite
It has no equal, and if thy name they call, your life has
Been forsaken one in all, but the lord hears you the voices of
Salem, and thus sends his servant unto thee.
Guilt's judgment is superficial, the verdict has already been so written,
Before the jury even comes within the court room, and the gavels
Heavily leaden hammer is struck.
Blown wide open are these church doors, and a hooded man
Thus so enters, cursing those within, and giving each one a single
Ebony rose, the Grim Reaper so speaks, I'll see you soon, in my kingdom
Of damnation's sorrow.
Turning from when'st he came, to the victim residing upon the stand,
Towards the heavens look child of light for thee I have no black ebony
But instead a white rose shall the angels on high, will give unto
Thee, and will you then know God's everlasting peace
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN