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Free Verse Places Poems | Free Verse Poems About Places

These Free Verse Places poems are examples of Free Verse poems about Places. These are the best examples of Free Verse Places poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

HER SOFT CANAL



The powder of white sand holds her flesh close to his musk pelvis as she gasps with the murmured waves trembling on the coast of a fragrant mouth against a manly tongue, and they lay on hidden grass in an old Ipanema cove where rippling strokes fondle the east and north of her sylph-like curves: amidst the liquid Brazilian dusk, her flowing hair sinks from the lapping of crest in rhythmic grinds; tanned fingers exploring a soft canal of a nymph's heightened pleasure… by the sea- bend, he pulls her creamy thighs like a driftwood sailing afloat upon each quivered abandon while they melt under balmy trees… without the need to speak. Justin Border's Make Love To Me In That Ancient Place 11/23/2014


Details | Free verse | |

Signs and Times

You say: Wrong place—wrong time,
Maybe: Wrong place—not right time,
Not right place—but wrong time?
I say: This's right place—right time, 
In times and places,
What is the time?
Where is the place
For right not wrong?
Is this like signs
Tearing up the scenery;
What about my mind?
Don't what? I can read the sign!
Oh—Signs of the time?
What’s wrong is not right,
Lord, I will sing this song!
Fight for what’s right 
Correct what's wrong!
In all times and places
Oh, salvation!
Please, be alright,
And make it—
On time!

~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~

© Joseph, October 11, 2008
© All Rights Reserved

~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~

Joseph S. Spence, Sr., is the author of "The Awakened One Poetics" (2009), which is 
published in seven different languages. He invented the Epulaeryu poetry form, which 
focuses on succulent cuisines and drinks. He is published in various forums, including the 
World Haiku Association; Poetinis Druskininku, Milwaukee Area College, Phoenix Magazine; 
Möbius Poetry, and Taj Mahal Review to name a few. Joseph is a Goodwill Ambassador for 
the state of Arkansas, USA, a college faculty, and a military veteran.

~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~



Details | Free verse | |

Beachworld

Silent in its violence, the sun
lays its ancient fire hand on the heat-scoured
concrete of the promenade,
the boxy seafront chalets tilting and creaking at angles,
the scorched, salt-stiffened gardens,
sand dunes, the screaming blue sea.
It is so difficult to accept a loss, a deprivation.
Innocence flaps its winding sheet behind me,

its mummy cloth of myth.
As from an isolated moon I see
the first cold breaker rush to engulf me:
an underwater undulance,
undercurrents of menace, of malice.
The sand-strewn strand stretches into infinity,
shimmering with the visions, the voices, the echoes,
the faceless departments of government and society.

I watch the insouciant people around me,
they possess a flatness, like blank paper.
They hump and lug plastic picnic paraphernalia,
ridiculously, all beach grime and blistered backs,
reduced to a red cindery glow.
Ice creams, scooped from the freezers
in trinkety seashore shops,
are clutched in sunburned hands.

They are spreading striped sunbathing mats,
snide and smiling slyly.
Is it a mirage, a delusion,
plucked from the desert-dry air?
The air snags in my throat: the flat summer stench
of warm wood, sun lotion, billowing cotton -
blank but expansive; the creaking, the flapping.
A strange wind howls and banters in my ear.

And the train shrieks through its station -
the station of my brain -
a riddled red abyss, poker-hot.
The sun is sinking:
a disc of fire, a blood clot.
Water floods the ridgy shallows,
eddying into treacherous pits.
The black gun muzzle of my mouth

flays the oxygen from the air.
My nerves a hive of wires suffering
the scarlet atrocities.
Pokers put out my eyes.
Squeezed by the forceps of agony
I see nothing, nothing
but a mirage of wavering dunes closing in
and the sea splintering; a multitude of glass glittering.


Details | Free verse | |

Sweet Suburbia

Driving down the street,
sweet suburbia exhales,
scents of butter pecans
and apple blossoms penetrate the wind,
but secrets hide behind this serene atmosphere.

Momma's passed out on the couch,
Jack's become her best friend.
She has numbed out the pain around her,
rejects the truth.

Bobby loves his gun,
he knows how to make it all come to an end.
One day he'll have the courage,
and take everyone else with him.

Suzy hides in her closet,
she doesn't want daddy to find her,
have his ways like he does.
She just wants to fade away and die.

Papa's working late,
thinking of his sweet desert,
no one knows the world he creates,
while he pushes reality away.

Mittens sits in the windowsill,
watches the strangers pass by,
his tail twitching back and forth,
the only thing that knows the truth behind the doors.

While the house silently cries,
the world will still drive by.
Smell the sweetness in the wind,
be hypnotized,
by a sweet suburban lie.


Details | Free verse | |

Afghan Journey

I want to wear a djellabas. Blackness engulfing me in its tentlike refuge veiled in gauze. Or a burkha of blue with a screen over my face to hide my eyes. I want to wear rope sandals down a dusty Afghan road on the warmest of days with the wind whistling through the Khyber Pass. I want to know the language, taste the food, gaze at the bearded men I pass who will not know I am looking at them. They are handsome and brave in Kabul. I want to hear the children reciting the Koran in their Pushtu cadence and play upon a tabir with a beat of peace.


Details | Free verse | |

Life Outback

Dawn too short and a baby sun
is grown to womanhood within an hour
and sends the Tablelands the sweeping gesture 
of her fiery arms.
Further out, explosions of dry Spinifex grass;
the distant desert's oily ticking bomb.
Black smoke rolls on the breeze
above the ribbon of the red blaze line.
The clanks of the metal mill man
draw life from the deep down artery,
the hot wind his assistant,
goads the blade into rotation.
Droughtmaster chews on churlish Mitchell grass
and salt bush watered by the moonlight dew.
Wandering, blinking in the dust
along the wire on the Forty Mile Fence.

Relentless women sigh in torpid dreams.
Moist fishtail ferns fan out around the tank,
soft drips; the hard water of little tears
on to the hallowed garden.
They grow like ragged wildflowers;
the sun burned clay plains men
far out in the fade of the red twilight. 


Details | Free verse | |

Court Green

Her shadowy cloud-cloaked figures are reaching,
clustering at the creaking bridge end,
waiting for me, beckoning silently,
fitting their footsteps to mine.
Russet rust dots the ground like blood spots -

maroon flakes flecking the quiet earth.
The gaping church mouth
has swallowed too many blood-soaked sunsets,
girning and regurgitating the red.
The Gothic spire of the yew keeps its churchyard vigil,

overshadowing the elm's distress -
troubled trees that bleed through the sigils of her desk.
Each ancient taproot sprawls to the grinning maw
of a corpse, kissing this quiet necropolis.
It is too still, too silent,

not a breath, a whisper, or a flicker.
On a green hill faraway narcissi raise white faces;
they nod and bob above an echo chamber of old cogs,
ancient wires snaking from walls,
ivy ropes strangling worn wooden doors,

softly rotting boards, shifting floors.
Slow sun on moss-smothered walls,
turning and churning amber and gold.
Her history haunts here, hanging like a pall.
Old memories snag between slats of sunlight;

vaporous spirits stirring, rising before me
like a heat haze in the sweltering, melting air.
Cubed cottages line the lane in spun sugar pastels.
What is that sickly odour throat-choking me
in the sultry air? Is it only the saccharine stench

of the lace-capped cow parsley? Cautiously I place each foot
amongst sodden sod clods dark as blood clots
and a snare of plant roots, the throttle-web nets
of Queen Anne's lace. Wending a winding pathway
through weed-choked abandoned allotments

shimmering green as the sea; the sun funnelling
its suffocating heat to me, the sick hawthorns
sweating a feverish odour of malady.
Bean flowers peer meanly from their cages of canes -
little hostile black eyes following me.

A murder of crows converges, blackening the hot blue -
bits of scorched paper soaring near the sun's searing inferno -
squawking souls immolating; a panicked flutter of sky cries.
And at the end of it all, this sinking into sunken soil
as the cloud-cloaked shadows lengthen to swallow me whole.





*Court Green is the name of the house where poets Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes lived in the village of North Tawton, Devon. The 'abandoned allotments' in North Tawton were the setting for Plath's poem 'The Bee Meeting'.


Details | Free verse | |

Reservoir of Dreams

Wrapped in fog, in a reservoir of dreams She has weathered each season, with a mystical scheme … On a wind-swept shelf, silently sleeping Where secrets are guarded and are hers for the keeping Looking out at the tide, where the white gulls are sweeping In her moldering courtyard, where quadrivial paths meld, Among ancient arches of an old Spanish style Names locked in history, many stories revealed Etched in the headstones, where angels have dwelled The cracked marble fountain with polished ligures, Above the church doorway, vines are withering, bare Aloft from the steeple, are the four watchful eyes Looking out to the sea, and the deep crimson tide Three vestige bells dangle from loft, overhead Their voices are quiet, with pericopes spoken Soft hymns of doves, fill the rafters, instead From crumbling ruins, bricks humbly laid There are shadows of saints...and moss covered jade A weeping old willow, with leaves crackling dry I drink with my ears, and listen with an eye Of all those who prayed, for those who passed by Unbelievable echoes, the tolling of the bells Making sense of the senseless, I can hear what it tells Giving voice to my feelings, and new hope to my eyes A peace in my heart, where the holy grail lies Are heard in the voice, in the church of blue tides
____________________________________________________________________ For The Contest Sponsored By Shadow Hamilton "Any Subject" Using Words: unbelievable, mystical, ligure, pericope, reservoir, quadrivial, 7/22/13


Details | Free verse | |

Where Castles Wash Away

Once more I'm dazzled by the glare
Reflections from a sea
The shimmering sand, the salty air
The windswept grass and trees
Restless eucalyptus leaves
So scattered in the wind
Like all my memories...where do they  begin?

Those precious days, when I was young
Kites sailed in ocean skies
Where childhood days were fair and long
Sand castles grew in fantasy...
Lone barefoot walks, and hearts were free
Today I climb the winding path
That lingers with sweet aftermath

Such memories are mine
Of days beneath the sun
The joy that I still can find
Though days have come and gone

The gulls still sing their song
They circle round me, yet above
Reminding me of days so loved
Where castles made of sand were found
Until the waves came crashing down

This place I knew when summer came
Now warms my heart from winter's game
Where blooming lilacs danced a tune
And summer's end still comes too soon


Details | Free verse | |

HOSTEL, QUEBEC CITY, 1978



Pubescent class trip,
and I became enamored with impossibility
 
Vanishing verdigris yet cosseted 
the L’Auberge de la Paix,* a work-in-progress 

Floorboards slowed gawky treads with furrows.
Ten feet above, death-row cherubs 
surrendered frail wings, a plaster molting 
advanced by workmen too eager for the plucking
    
(the curse of romanticism 
is to perceive the imperceptible)

Home was a bungalow with suburb secrets, 
while the hostel’s curving staircase 
openly tattled on former hosts
and guests who had perfumed stale conversations
while carrying dance cards.
I could almost hear each half-note baluster 
and that treble clef handrail, so smooth, 
orchestrating encounters by the front door,
Bonne nuit, mon amour

Once, a Grande Maison owned by une l’artiste,
then, a hostel for students in the core of Quebec City,
the building charmed with its soft dishabille, 
stripped layers of faded wallpaper, pooling;
the pong of fresh paint and sanded wood
hustled the dame into the times
with ever-going modernization

Dorm rooms pouted

I was not interested in the tours
with their corpses of cannon balls,
toy soldiers arranged on miniature plains of Abraham,
narrow streets echoing with battle cries,
remnants of a lost sovereignty...  
the war of 1759
 
Why leave 
those thousand phantom pleasantries,
dusty sofas and freedom halls,
air hockey and air guitar,
new parlour games

Upstairs, bunk beds awaited roommates 
or daydreams
and creaked somewhat like nagging history 

But romance was a trompe l’oile, 
a fading fleur de lys,
and I can easily recall the coy throes 
of noisy pipes, closet confessions,
and giggling, blameless nights
when ghosts dusted every shifting wall,
altering even moonlight

 

* Written Aug 24, 2014

*The Peace Hostel, Quebec City
 31 rue Couillard, Latin Quarter, Quebec City

Grande Maison – estate
Une l’artiste – an artist


Details | Free verse | |

Still.

For this desire
to someday be accommodated,
we shall sit in front of the fire,
lodge chairs at angles akin to talking low,
honey cognac thick,
whispers even thicker,
and you will tell me life.

From the moment your memory begins
you will unravel the senses in dark licorice words
by crackling light.

We will throw lithium on the fire
and watch the shadows turn red
in our laughter

...just children, really, despite our age...

The night will wane as good nights always do,
and we'll sleep on and off in the chairs,
in the midst of the other's story.
It won't matter, as it all becomes a dream anyway
and we'll never tend the fire till it gives up it's coal.

At 5 am our voices will be hoarse
and our legs will be angry at us for pretzeling them,
so we will rise to make strong coffee.
You, grinding powder brown beans,
and me finding two perfect cups for hand holding,
brushing past you electric in the process.

After the brew, after our lives have been told, 
at the precise red photograph of sunrise,
we will sleep.

My head will fall sullen on your shoulder, 
angry at my inability to control my eyes to stay with you a moment more,
and this new world, which has spun at twice it's
normal speed since meeting you,

will suddenly, 
finally,
be still.


Details | Free verse | |

Grand Canyon

Some people are voices
On the edge of rocks
With steep slopes and cliffs.
Some people are echoes
At the bottom of walls
Carved by rushing waters.


Details | Free verse | |

Moments In Time

The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark

The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been 
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark. 


Details | Free verse | |

New York City's Greenwich Village

                                          Greenwich Village breathes,
                                       She inhales exhausted tepid air,
                                And exhales blustery winds of possibility.
                              The lady blows away the veils of dishonesty.

                                       Tangled streets strung together,
                                   Knotted masses of pearls and poetry,                  
                               Entwining marbled heroes,rounded arches, 
                                  Crucifixes,and snakes penned on skin.

                                  Artists, tourists, vagrants,and scholars,
                                   Know the calling of its siren song well.
                                   People living on the fringe of humanity,
                                    And those from the upper crust, fuse.

                                     The village is the one spot on earth
                                Where you can expose your primal desires,
                                     And explore their depths unfettered.
                                 She is a lovely harlot who lives to please .

                                   Musicians and thinkers engage in chess,
                             Neighbors line the benches of it's central park.
                                  Children run naked through its fountains.
                                  The poor and idol rich roam, anonymously.

                                    A reader of fortunes lays out his cards,
                                 Lovers tango,who knows which one leads?
                                 Perhaps all the seekers will find their way,
                                   And the leaders will learn how to see?

                           Lady Greenwich Village,the canvas of New York life,
                              Her face painted with brilliant spattered oils.
                                Each of us can add our own divine colors, 
                            Dripping and blending with individual uniqueness.



Details | Free verse | |

An affair with nature

Pass onto this thinking place
Pristine with luster and rhythmic textures
Bath in its heart-warming splendor
Here in this monolithic emerald patchwork
This relationship consoles your psyche
A pluck from here, a collection from there
A rack of tools and an now idle straw-hat 
From the loam to dust that stick upon your shoes
A place to conceal with an atmosphere 
Contiguous to the eyes embracing and rich
Time honored in its entirety
Carefully romanced by birds and creatures alike
I found you here in a home of comforts
Now your essence is complete 
Behold the gardens of light and sound 
As perfect as the gift given to man 
A portrait flowering a secrete of love
Its scenery influences your center 
Today and always 
A thinking place
With a reflecting pool  




Details | Free verse | |

Louisiana Bayou

Chilly late October;
early morning fog banks
the roadside, cloaks
a trickling bayou...
in the thickets of dense trees,
the wispy tufts 
top man-high
goldenrod, Queen Anne's lace,
dried-out thistle stalks...
A school bus, solitary,
yellow, slowly passes
on skinny black asphalt
where wet spots reflect
the newly risen sun.
Only rustles of high,
green cane fields and 
intermittent bird songs
interrupt pervasive quiet...
Timelessness, and solace --
calming, soothing --
a Louisiana bayou:
Bayou Sale.


Details | Free verse | |

Summer Perdition

A sheet of glass, this expanse of water.
How its tranquillity mocks my unrest.

Colourful beach balls and balloons
travel the park in diminutive hands.

Bodiless voices call in the sun
and bounce off these sizzling surfaces.

It is not surprising I wear cool clothing
and masquerade serenity.

Swollen laburnum pods harbour their horror -
wombs cradling their malignancies.

Such outward masks of innocence!
And the leaves of the willow

mournfully fish the water that stretches into distance
further than vision.

Blossom strews the ground like confetti.
A green leaf anchors in my hair.

*

At the station things roll into vision -
travelling paraphernalia, fluorescent strip lighting.

I ride the escalator unsteadily.
I am concealing the necessary:

cakes of soap, folded fabrics -
appurtenances of normality.

My respectable patent heels tap hollowly
over the cobbles, the cracked paving stones.

These old garden walls
wear thin skins of lichen now.

Sunlight winks on windowsills,
glittering white paint and ceramic bowls of plants.

Wallflowers scramble up the trellis,
shockingly yellow,

their pollen cloying the air.
Canvas chairs create a Neapolitan facade:

pastel stripes sitting on pink.
One paisley curtain is fluttering

from a high open window.
Already your tenuous grip lets go.

What throttling helplessness in the throat...
Frantic fingers sift and pick over

the desperate possibilities
contained in the musty depths of suitcases,

the shadows of cool stone cottages.
These walls retain the scent of bergamot,

reminiscent of relinquished summers,
the redolence lingering in the pastel decor.

*

There is no anchor in this terrible sea.
Counsellors bring the modest comforts of select words,

cultivated smiles and cups of tea.
They attempt to smother my fear.

Cheap chipped crockery
and scalding spirals of steam.

Rings encircle these defenceless fingers
that crawl over the tea trays like insects -

cold quoits, surgical silver.
Rubies and sapphires bear testimony to obscene betrayal.

In the hollow months an emptiness will tug at me
like dragging menstrual aches.

Young limbs lie useless and inert,
motionless under starched coverlets.

Something predatory prowls the floor.
A phantom protection is all I claw.


Details | Free verse | |

Memories etched in the sand

Sifting warm sand 
through my fingers,
shimmering fine grains 
glitter my palm.
Sand,
filled with life’s memories
of nut brown days
of summer.

A soft silk breeze 
formed dunes
with our dreams 
that summer
when we danced to the stars.
My heart laced yours
listening to the sea
undulating waves of emotion
as we kissed 
on the velvet strand.

I still hear
the rhythm of the ocean.
Waves tumbling in unison,
a sweeping sound 
gently caressing
as we lay silently 
listening to sand
shifting over stone
to the faint chiming
of seashells.

My first love
a sea salted embrace
on a breast of sand.
The memories
forever held
in the sand
in glitter on my hand.


Details | Free verse | |

Amazement

I stand in voiceless, transfixed gaze
Where once two towers pierced the sky 
And through a fog of stinging tears
I'm still amazed that through the years
Emotion's grip, still chokes a phrase

A day, so many years ago
We traveled up to see the stars
From high upon a rising spire
Not knowing then what we have learned
How fragile life will bend and curve
And take away in one brief day
A voice of reason, never heard

I'm back again, and through the pain
I read the names, now carved like graves
Where water streams three thousand tears
Where years can't wash away the pain
Where bitter comes the taste of rain
Yet, reverently, the voice is clear
Of hope and pride, where life begins

Raw photographs have not been blurred
In spite of where my heart was plunged
Into the darkest dungeon known
And still the blackest smoke has turned
Into amazement where I've grown
To treasure good before it's gone


________________________________________________________________

  2/19/13


Details | Free verse | |

In The Land 'O Green

Sun declines, beneath the emerald rim
And I'll be headin' home...
to a cottage in the moor lands 
with a fire to warm me' bones

The kettle of beans are boilin'
and some coals will bake me scones
I will rest my weary shoulders
And be glad for what I've seen

I've witnessed bracken turn so reddin'
like a wildfire on the mountain
And wee nanny goats on hillsides,
too many now, for countin'

Heather waves in summer breezes...
Granite stones, and bogs of grass,
water gleams like shining glass
and harshness blows for but a reason
to turn around the seasons
Thar' be wavin' sails upon the blue
And leafy shamrocks on the green 
Where rugged shores, and seagulls cry,
and pink skies capture me

Friendly folks be bearin' ruddy cheeks,
There's a colleen, fair thee lass
Who will tip our mug at village pub, 
And we'll make a toast to Patrick's kin
and order one more glass

Let me always sink me' Irish eyes  
upon the rugged land
Upon the skies, upon the streams, 
where druid legends live
Upon the grand home of the clan, 
where many roots began

Where the ole' pale moon at nightfall, 
scatters me memories all a'glowing
Of fair thee rose of old Tralee,
over garden trellis growin' 

Charming valleys, greener hillsides,
fill thee heart of all 'me clan
Pick ye' a shamrock.... look for gold, 
shake yer' hands with leprechauns
Kiss a Blarney stone in sweet Killarny, 
come to all that's home to me
Where names of O'Reily, or McDougal sprung
and the color green began

________________________________________________


Details | Free verse | |

Fluoroscope Eyes

Shimmer glowing
     twinkling water
             softly flowing
                   New moon casting shadows
                         Penumbras shifting
                              Lakeside silence
                                     Silver dances
                                            Placid....Tranquil
                                                 Liquid shine of peace

   Why do I sit agitated?
     Eyes drawn inward
           Naked soul 
         stripped down
 Barren like the winter trees
     A skeleton of myself
 Solitude surrounding me
    Like a heavy snow
     a January Shroud

A billion stars are upward
    whispering your name
       Chanting with their twinkles
           of my eternal longing
               Their brilliance mocking
                  Reminding me of distance
                       and my infernal sorrow

The moon casts an eerie glow
Across the rocky cliffs
taunting me with loneliness
The place beside me empty

I close my eyes
          Lashes slightly damp
                      My hair falls forward
                               I take a deep breath in
                  and I conjure you

      I see you there 
      in ghostly form
You wrap me in your arms
     Suddenly the stars 
       cease taunting
the moon glows a sweet hue
    and i feel warm seep in
    you smile softly at me
     you seem so very real

My aching heart is full
Your sexy smile stirs me
   I feel such peace
you whisper words
   that cause a laugh....

Is this happiness?

If I open my eyes 
you will disappear
      like a puff of smoke
Like the phantom you are
So I keep them 
            squeezed shut
tightly, heart pounding
        and I smile

A Mona Lisa smile
          all the mystery 
              of woman and love
                   and the infinite universe
             resting on my face

How long can I sit here
         I wonder.....
before my eyes must open?


Details | Free verse | |

Jamaica IsLands

Sun blazed;
Crystal clear
Skies, sparkle
Diamonds of
True beauty bliss...

Jamaica Islands
Exports with "JAH LOVE",
NO DISCRIMINATION.

SO Break-Out the tanning-oil
and beach towel kick-off 
your shoes, let your
Hair down N' hang- loose...
For awhile.

Take A swim to refresh 
Your mind and feel relaxed
Sand tickling your toes.

Peacefully and Enjoy Life:
For "JAMAICA ISLANDS IS;
HERE TO STAY...." WE ARE
ALL ONE BIG FAM AT JAMAICA 
ISLANDS!!!"

Written By:
SWEET N' SOUR= CARMA

06-24-12


A Tribute to a great poet n' writer:
RICHARD PALMER        THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT
                                        SOUP " FAM" TO THE END....

Entered in contest Letting your hair down
Sponsored by: Yasmin Khan


Details | Free verse | |

The dying red giant

It stands alone
in a field of loneliness and neglect
the bright red paint has faded into a murky brown
a strict reminder from mother natures pounding fury through the years
once housing a families treasures
now only stores their forgotten tears

The door hangs lazily from its missing bolts
its hinges silent and perfectly rusted
as children we played inside its sturdy walls
now, it cant be trusted

It stands alone
the barn...
surrounded by a field of weeds and decay
tired and broken
it waits for its eventual collapse
a once bright red smile has faded
its loneliness has no purpose
not anymore


Details | Free verse | |

Twinkle Twinkling Lights

Twinkle twinkling lights beyond beyond my house. . . out to where the mountains meet low and blackened clouds. Twilight time in January all is bathed in gray. No rainbowed hues dance hither to tag this winter's day. Out to where the lights across the valley towns are a myriad of fireflies that flicker flicker round . . . their circle ever grows as evenfall grows thicker. People settle in. The temperature will drop. Night . . . and soon more lightning bugs will join in the throng, absorbing all the warmth of all the others' twinkle twinkling lights. (The city of Pleasant Grove and surrounding Utah Valley cities in January from twilight to night.) For Deb's Contest: City Lights Poetry Contest


Details | Free verse | |

Train, Alone

I wail lonely
in your distances
as endless trestles travel I

Know

I was here I was
present
on your horizons,
present in your town

Come, ride with me
Come, keep me 
from obsolescence, keep me
alive

Without you
Within me
I am meaningless,
blind

For how can I see, and, yes,
Who can I show,

If  not you... if not you... if not you 


Details | Free verse | |

EULOGY FOR THE ELDON GALLERY, WATERLOO


Once a place that sold cultivated pigment, the shop has become a catacomb,
Windows entombed by cardboard boxes, deprived of the merest hint of life and
I wonder if the gallery owner had intended a display of irony or focused rage. 

Gone, the watercolour weeping chartreuse, its soft backdrop of midnight blue,
And the oil on wood with knife strokes applied so thickly, it almost moved, 
Charcoal sketches of thunderstorms hitting the shores of Port Elgin, greys loud. 

Dark now the halls that had sheltered dreamscapes, art of all disciplines and sizes,
Squeezing themselves into corners and elbowing each other for my attention.
I ache for that one perfect dove that called to me from an azure sky, the one who 

knew my name, but I did not have the funds to take him home to my little cage.
He deserved a rectory or a view that would at least provide a kind of sanctuary.
Oh, how his wings had beat against pulse points and one of his feathers tickled

out a memory of a robin that had flown towards a cloudless sky, but instead had 
collided with a picture window; the contact point marred by a red, sickle shaped 
smear, and my grandmother had carefully wrapped the corpse in yesterday’s news.

I had trudged out to the garbage can, unseen, found the poor thing in its shroud, 
Snuck out to the garden and buried it amongst tall phlox and florid snap dragons,
I’d succumbed to tears, wrenched by a world where beauty is fragile and disposable.

Today people walk along the street, wearing blinders, holding devices that fail to
signal that something living and real slowly starved to death, atrophied, and I watch
a happy child point to a puddle, but her mother fails to see the large coin it holds.

I recall a portrait that had enraptured like a sun shower, reminiscent of light and rain, 
A girl traipsing waves, almost overtaken, her footsteps disappearing under foam…
And I silently apologize to those artists unmet, the ones who continue to meet panes. 







*Please click on the About my Poem link to see a picture of what inspired this poem... It has been closed for a while, but today, I walked past it and remembered the lovely art that I had once appreciated, yet was never able to afford. 


Details | Free verse | |

Stretch Marks

A foot of water
Barely blurs them
The pinkish bruises
Spanned like hands
Across my hips

I press my fingers to them
Try to align them with the crooked broken lines
That tear across my body

They are violet roads
On a map that is me
Starting pale at the backs of my knees
Stretch to meet the butterflies
That touch and leave
And touch and leave
The tall tall grass

And they gently circle my breasts
Where I fold the grass
Beneath my back
Find eyes that aren't mine
And kiss
Kiss 
Kiss

And they wrap tight around my thighs
Leaving dark deep grooves
Somewhere dead
And new
Where his face is suddenly old to me

And I wash it from my skin
Wash it away
Away
Away


Details | Free verse | |

River One

I stand, 
the sun so bright it almost pulls me upwards and towards it. 
Out of my now empty shoes, and merging with my eyes. 
The shades of my vision, from burning white...down, 
down
to the moist, scatter of colors in the rocks below. 
They roll and twist in the push of the water. 
In...around...out...
I want to spread my fingers to catch them as they shimmer in the sunlight. 
Gobble up those golden dreams, 
flickers of truth.
Like my thoughts, 
almost too quick for me to catch, 
before they roll back into the darkness.


Details | Free verse | |

The Universal Man

I shall live and die By my own accord Only my God may judge me To him I've proved my worth I am still here fighting It matters not what for On my ship of righteousness Headed for waters unexplored The clear night sky will darken And the clouds seem ominous I take heed to the sure signs From them I won't digress They are in the way of my dreams And hopes that fill my sails Like the wind from my heaven Keeps my skin tough as nails Evil comes to tempt me I am not immune Sometimes I play the hero Other times I'm just a fool Either way the choice is mine I make it with my free will For that's the gift he gave me And for what I fight for still The government is coming To bring a chaos they call order The line has been drawn Between two sides there is a border I feel myself being torn To choose a fate in stone Let this be a lesson Why I wander on my own Minds can be controlled I see it every day The weak wills fall like dominos That lie littering my way An obstacle before me I iron will it to the end And when the devil comes to dance with me I have already started to transcend into everything around I am the universal man my true form I shall disguise I am hiding it from this great Satan they say will come for my demise I know he will find me maybe he already has in a long gone nightmare that my soul he stole at last if I remember correctly I can't say I recall ever escaping his grip or did it ever touch me at all?


Details | Free verse | |

A walk with me

Waves crash the rocks in ecstasy
as I pass the archway 
to the sea.
Onwards to the village, 
busy cafes,
the aroma of coffee brewing,
as a power of teens gather, texting.
 
I venture down 
a chestnut lined road
under a canopy 
of Copper Beech
where bright shafts of sun
illuminate a lane of lavender 
a sea of perfume
wafts the air.
 
Climbing an incline, 
hills in view,
the distant sobbing
of water sounds
a trickling brook emerges
ambling through magenta heather
and thorny gorse.

I reach a stile, 
entrance to the woods
where a carpet 
of frosted red cyclamen 
bleeds down to a deep dark glen.
A chicory lake lies there, frozen
as a mist uncurls between reeds.
  
The granite hills,
 soft with snow,
luminous against a whale grey sky.
A copse of pine trees
surround a curving river
where trout pout, bubbling.
 
At the fold of day, 
returning hom
The pale sun sinks the horizon
as stars tremble
into a velvet night




Details | Free verse | |

Beinn Nibheis - Scene 1

I sit and pause, looking at the sky blue ceiling above me. White vapour cotton wool clouds
gently float like water lilies on an upside down pond. My humble seat, an igneous rock
from the Devonian period. A glaciation past has moulded this comfort to rest this weary
climber. I am in fortunate delight as this skyscraper of old can turn nasty with nature.
These marvels can unite and lure unsuspected hikers, and draw them into a weather world
they have never known. The gulley's and faces of this quite wonderful Munro hide
challenges and dangers for all who dare climb. Many have been lost as they become
disorientated, as natures weather closes in.

The ascent route to the summit on a day like today is quite wonderful. The beauty of the
glens, with their sporadic mix of andesite and basaltic lava mountains, rival many a range
on our fine planet. Many colours explode on the surrounding canvas. Greens and beige's,
greys mingling with red granite masses. Screes are in evidence, a sign of the range ageing
as natures seasons take their toll. Plant life carpets the slopes, where grasses of sorts
mingle with the purple and white heather. Ferns from a prehistoric age fan out catching
the breeze, like Sea´ ferns´ in the ocean.

As i climbed, at various intervals i would close my eyes and listen to the calls of the
wild. The sporadic bleating of sheep, as if echoing through the glens. Crows and their
hooded cousins fly sorties looking for carrion of such. Suddenly they scatter, as royalty
makes a welcomed appearance. As majestic as the King of the mountains can be, a Golden
Eagle glides on the thermals. His subjects looking on from a distance, for fear of
angering him. Rabbits, lizards and even sheep and lambs, bow down in whatever chambers of
safety allows them. As graceful as he arrived, he leaves. Slowly but slowly, the lookouts
of the species declare their haven a safe zone.

This climb has certainly given me a thirst, as the thinned mountain air leaves me tired.
Nearby a small stream offers a weary climber a much needed tonic. This pure fresh
translucent chemical substance quenches my crave, with a gentle splash over my sun beaten
face, i feel refreshed to a point.




http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/scotland-3.php


Details | Free verse | |

City of Shadows

A lonesome boat in the harbor rocks insanity.
Big waves of the black sea roll across the white sands
that fade into darkness for eternity.
Far from the life giving drops of rain are predators
in the city of shadows.
Feelings from the last solem breezes blow.
As the evening sun fades slowly into the night,
the pavement glistens like cracked glass
from the earlier evening rain.
A lack of silence remains.
In the city of shadows,
screaming voices creep in the corner of your mind.
Visions of the garden where the flowers died.
The dark alley reveals the emptiness of peace within your soul,
and death reveals the cold, cold truth way beneath the black crumbled earth.
Slapped with a strike of lightning,
disrupting the fall of silence where secrets crawl to hide,
in the foxholes of one's mind.
In the city of shadows, bewildered minds tick with the time of the clock.
Breath by breath falls perfectly out of place,
and darkness opens a new gate.
Tunes of the violin slowly fade away.
A new awakening to blindness,
in the city of shadows.


Details | Free verse | |

Roller Coaster

This never-ending roller coaster
makes life unpredictable, even to myself
The ups and downs take me from high to low
in a matter of minutes and hours
Twists and loops send my mind into a whirlwind
as it leaves my body numb
Dark tunnels seem cold and lonely
but I make it through in no time at all
Things start to slow down and I think the ride is over
only to speed past the exit 
Each time I pass, the scenery changes 
and new events take place, leaving me choices I least expect
On occasion, the brakes come to a screeching halt
but this is only for a second
I then find myself no longer moving forward
but riding in reverse, gripping my harness even tighter
Eyes closed, my biggest fear is not the places I've never gone
but the places I've already been


Details | Free verse | |

in absolute darkness

Do you know what its like to be 
in absolute darkness?
I do. 
And I want to be back
on a foggy night
where winter doesn't fall too far
the only thing you can see 
is a distant street light
yellow and gold
glowing from the distance
the wet leaves that fell from the trees 
fill the night 
with a dewy smell
darkness. 
I turn the key
bright headlights
flood the road
one line, two lines, 
they all combine
into a white blur keeping me 
from crossing into the abyss
I could drive forever 
alone. 
I want to be gone again
back to my home.


Details | Free verse | |

That Slow Green Burn

Fire at the edge of the world.
Eyes deep within the shoreless forest sea,
Witnesses of the most ancient ways
Watch smoke rising from the approaching front
Of treeless, naked land
Stripped bare by blind ambition,
Quietly await the end.

Five thousand acres a day
The last great garden drifts into the skies
To join the circling storms that once nourished it.

The fires lick and crawl their way
Into its green heart.

Fire is eating the soul of the world
Reducing the face of its childhood to ash;
- Behold here the sorrow of Eden's last relic
Becoming the charnel-house of Creation.


Details | Free verse | |

Comfy As Old Shoes...

There are places in one's life
That are as comfortable as an old shoe
Where one can feel so much at ease
Never tongue tied, nor a need to speak
Where perhaps the walls are worn and dusty
But acceptance fills the air
Where a mind can curl and rest it's feet
And a soul can breath and be complete
There are places in one's life
That are as comfortable as an old shoe
I have a place that's right for me...
And I hope that you do too....


Details | Free verse | |

The Purest Music

    One fine day as I was traversing the green,
in the last throes of Autumns'  twilight.
I sat upon a flat stone,
overlooking a trilling brook,
to ponder the meaning of life.
As I sat ,and thought,
the soft chimes of music,
from the water spirits,
lulled me into a dream state.
Some where in  that liquid crystal,
stubborn stones are worn smooth,
by the passage of time.
Elsewhere the fluidous mercury,
rushes toward a cleft ,
a water fall.
Bringing forth melodies,
never to be reproduced ,
by mere human hands.
As my lids grow heavy,
I'm awakened by the flash of silver,
denizens ,  
silhouetted by the last rays of the setting sun..
With regret its time to leave,
as I turn to go ,
a misty rainbow is captured ,
by the fading beams of light.
I smile, at peace,
the promise ,
the sun will once again ,
eclipse the horizon.


Details | Free verse | |

World

Close your eyes to see the world . .  and open your heart to feel it.


Details | Free verse | |

Mountain Poem

I love sky I love trees
and sometimes I can feel the breeze.
I feel like I can fly
With the wind pushing my hair back so lightly the trees are waving
My hair is swaying so is yours as we glide together
as we watch the sunset go bye
and once again I can feel the breeze
the mountains are high
so so high
they are so high
see them see them
yes
to protect me as I walk across the lake
I love the lake
it is so big big big big
I love big
do you like big?
I like the mountains
do you?
they are so straight like a statue do you think?
the mountains are high in the sky
I love to just watch the sunset go bye
so quiet and slow like the clouds I soar through the sky
I love soaring through the sky


Details | Free verse | |

Georgia Muse

I went to Georgia without my bonjo in my hand I knew it would be great after I landed and took a stand I told them my name and they asked, "What's your fame?" I reached for my muse and turned it loose like a goose They straightened their ties and said “O’ me, O’ my!” “We made a mistake about this poetic rhyming guy!” Someone handed me a bonjo and they all joined the tango My muse had its way and we had a wonderful stay As we departed for home they started to sing, “Hurry back poet, may your muse give you wings!”


Details | Free verse | |

Nightmares

Take my hand
Come with me
Cross over
To the darker side of my mind
The place where,
All my hatred hides
Show of strengths
Release from behind my eyes
War with the things 
I know not to do
Kill all who stand in my way
As I lye down to awaken another day


Details | Free verse | |

Beinn Nibheis - Scene 2

Gravity enters my thoughts, what ever goes up has to come down. As i start my descent from
the summit of this giant of the Grampians. My journey down is so different to the ascent.
Clouds build for the evening mass. The breeze has magically transformed into a cutting
wind, as the tallest of ferns whistle a goodbye.

The melting snows still show their march, small waterfalls run into fast flowing burns.
Lambs now hug close to their mothers, its as if they know nightfall is upon them. The
quietness of the glens are a memory now as modern mans noise appears from the distance.
The local mountaineer team are on the ascent on a training exercise. These unpaid
volunteers put their own safety in danger to save others who are in danger. The orangy
glow of street lights confirm my descent is complete. I head back home, tired, weary from
my day on the highest mountain in my homeland. But so alive in the joys and sights that it
allowed me to share on this day. 




http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/scotland-3.php


Details | Free verse | |

Open 24-Hours

chaotic uprising of humanity
milling throngs
in their intellectual stupor
search endlessly
for beans ...
and stuff.

murky faces
masking minds
that compete for favors.
races crash in harmony
of wanton pick-up desires
as love ceases to exist.

blaring music
battles pinball machines
to rankle dope shattered nerves.
coffee blotches
tables and chairs of putrid green.
the floor rises up with
suffocating scents.

open twenty-four hours a day
welcoming  night souls.
The Hot Dog Palace
a farcical palace
where hot dogs are terrifying
and the Man
can maintain
his scrutiny
of
creation.


Details | Free verse | |

lessons from that summer

i.
Evil sleeps in an orchard
not far from here.
The apples sweat him out.
Dressed as god, the Sun
watches and nods.
He bleeds for them
out of his own mouth.


A god's mask
means protection.
But in time,
he will suck them dry.


And autumn will fall.
Postures will fall.
Pulses will fall,
like pills,
like poison.



ii.
A cloud forest
signals the first 
of the shadows.


Summer is nocturnal.


A buttery Moon 
leaves the world 
warm and breathing.


The trees stir, 
the stars hiccup,
and Nighttime climbs onto the birdbath
where it tells you all its tricks.



iii.
Evil blinks from a tree
where the apple skulls
intrude.
The garden combs you
through its arteries,
scooping
your midsummer grave. 


A beautiful accident
closes in on itself.


And then a light like milk.
And then the whistling.



iv.
Summer whistles in the dark:
The sound of Evil kneeling
to the imagination
undoing him. 


A deadly glow 
becoming
a romance 
on the white fences.


Nighttime draws dust 
away from your shoulders,
translates Summer sound
and says, 


You are your own harvest.


Your madness is only there
when you want it to be.


Details | Free verse | |

With Your Pen Tonight

Paint me my dream with your pen tonight,
my special place, where everything is right.
Velvet so soft for bare feet to tread,
pillows of clouds for my weary head.
Champagne falls to swim, and bath,
my house of stars, that will never fade.
A pathway so safe, to stroll each day,
a golden moon to guide my way.
Love songs playing, in the distance so faint,
this is the dream for your pen to paint.


Details | Free verse | |

Relaxing on the Beach

Oh, the taste of sweet mangoes 
While relaxing on a Caribbean beach.
Such a refreshing way to watch the sun 
Setting on the blue and calm horizon.

This sweet mango is such an appetizer 
Preparing the pallet for the main course.
Stimulating one’s stomach for a feast 
With visions of the coming dish, 
The main flavor of the day.

Oh, I like tasty mangoes 
The setting sun, and 
Caribbean beaches.


Details | Free verse | |

CINDERELLA MISSING HER SHOE

Adorably cute
in my hand-tailored suit...
searching for my Cinderella missing her shoe;
among the prettiest faces, someone will stand out
with eyes that are somewhat blue...
and running into a handsomer guy,
it won't discourage her from finding her delight...
hiding behind others without the perfect alibi! 


Come out of the loud crowd,
beautiful one...show every apparent charm:
the delicacy of your womanly gesture;
and I'll reach out in kindness,
to subdue the fears of your first encounter!
Come out of the dim shadows,
incredible one, and accept my dance...
a request from my eager lips;
think of where we'd be tomorrow indeed,
when everyone has left and we ecstatically breath!


All the glamorous girls on the dance floor,
drinking heavily and laughing hysterically,
can't be compared to you; and what I'm looking for
is not just another amazing beauty,
but that certain winkle of shyness and more ingenuity!
Be that Cinderella missing her shoe, looking straight at me;
letting me gently slip it on,
so that this tender moment can become reality...
before our memorable, romantic night is gone,
and we'll remember nothing more than fantasy!



Details | Free verse | |

Gum in a N.Y Subway

Retired sweetness paints
a tiled mosaic of
unpredictable patterns.

Black, brown shapes
spatter the 
grey concrete of 
an underground kingdom.

The fresh ones burn
pink and seafoam 
green against
this steely blue 
and yellow lined world.

The stickiness clings
onto shining 
out of spectrum, 
before becoming
another dot
in dark masses.


Details | Free verse | |

The Arizona Heat ---Tagged!!!

The heat of summer makes her brain gelatin
The Arizona sun turns her into a skeleton
Time and space she does not put to waste
Really, this poet lady is one of great taste

Iced tea and lemonade in the Arizona sunlight
Create an atmosphere for her that’s just right
Ink just drying on her newly crafted poem
Always ready to rate on the pole of totem

Tall she stands with stature in poet's land
Only doing right waving her magic wand
Leading other poets to higher heights
Lovely readings are on her poetic site

Everyone should look in her poetic bag
What? Jill Martin, you are now tagged!



Comments:  Okay Jill, I was tagged by Tamiviolet Manchas.  As a result, I have to 
pass the tag along.   Your name is on the top of the list.  Your poetry is just 
wonderful!  Now, you must find a poet whose poetry you enjoy reading, and tag 
that poet with a poem.  Man, this is so much fun!  Chau!



Details | Free verse | |

Moving

Moving is hard
it's heart wrenching
and miserable
packing is hard
ending a life
and beginning a new one
is confusing and seems to be 
without hope
leaving friends
and sometimes family
feels as if your heart is being torn in two
gone are all familiarities 
and anything 
that ever gave security
taking on the new
turning your back on old 
yet never forgetting it
building new relationships

to those who are moving,
don't blame those who moved you
the cup is half full
not half empty
new people await to greet you
in your "new world"
embrace them
and life will go on



Details | Free verse | |

Caught in the Rain

It came with a flash upon my back
Caught off guard, suspenders hanging
Madly rushing to find a place so safe

From around the bend with a honk
“Hey watch your steps” was a shout
Horn blowing while in passing 
One disgruntled taxi driver glaring
Newspaper umbrella in ruins

Noisy rumbling above from a subway
Heading down the track, clank, clank, clank
Brown dog barking, woof, woof, looking back

Shelter at last, finally found a spot
The rain came down with a heavy shout 
Caught shirtless and without shoes
Now sipping coffee listening the blues 
Feeling brand new tasting some stew


Details | Free verse | |

His Testament (Sedoka)

Joseph His servant
Enslaved by those in the dark
A female falsely accused
Delivered by God
Displayed a heart of pure gold
True testament of God’s love


Comments:   One does not have to look too far in today's society to find a modern 
day Joseph. The Sedoka is an unrhymed poem made up of two three-line 
poems called a katauta with the following syllable counts: 5/7/7, 5/7/7.  A Sedoka, 
pair of katauta as a single poem, may address the same subject from differing 
perspectives.  The katauta is an unrhymed three-line poem with the following 
syllable counts: 5/7/7.  This Sedoka highlights Joseph, God’s noble servant and 
dreamer


Details | Free verse | |

Never Go Back

Walking through the streets of my home town 
Reaching for the  Memories of days long passed
Seeing nothing of what I once knew 
Accepting the fact 
That I can never go back
To the time when doors remained unlocked
And no one ever knocked
When a whole section of town converged on one home
A death in the family brought neighbors to your door
There was a sense of community and 
Dignity was not a status symbol
Wednesday's the miner rested
In the afternoon possibly at a local bar
While clothes lines decorated back yards
Clorox making it new again
Found a quarter equals five on the pinball unless
She was there
Making three and two cokes a better selection
Baseball glove dangling from the handlebars and 
there was no charge for dreams
The park beckoned the wild bunch with a pack of Luckies
Never thinking twelve was too young
And not knowing
The tragedy of progress
Those days when friendships bonded a town
Anger only lasted until the fight was finished
There was a game tomorrow night 
Winner and loser going to see it together
And the only real enemy was
                            TIME.


Details | Free verse | |

Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow

Into the wilderness you chose to walk,
away from safety to a world so distraught.
Nothing you took, but a worried mind,
leaving me a mission, you I will find.
The flock you have chosen, they wonder in grief,
everyone of them the same I believe.
How many years must someone bleed,
before they realize, they must break free.
Destruction, and pain is all you know,
can't you see, I love you so.
You call them friends but they are not,
their hearts are empty, their souls full of rot.
How could they do this, no remorse within,
call them your enemy, not your friend.
Another day I'll take my search,
into your wilderness full of hurt.
Until the day, I walk no more,
my search for you continues,
just like the day before.


Details | Free verse | |

Isabel

Sautéed scallops on the skirts of Italy
Debutantes of a chardonnay shimmy 
Mediterranean terraces of broached stars
Gucci wallets moonlighting baroque hearts
Manolo Blahnik legs lavishly luring
High heel sculptures of effusive Etruscan art
Olive ties stirring perfumed Sicilian thighs
Inhaling fragrant glasses of jasmine jet eyes
Rosy secrets saturating burning blotted lips
Fiery fertile plumes of Pompeii's fresco kiss
Vesuvian silence preening suave sable hair
Folded napkins of toasted Venetian affairs 


Details | Free verse | |

Mrs. Hershey's Garden

In her garden, with the humid scent of every rose
looking over amusement's risk and welcoming desire
I wish to find myself with you.
Singing shoulders, with your hand upon me in the sun
breaking peace like bread at lunch with butterflies
and water sprays springing up in smiles.
Cat tails blowing, laying down to kiss the ground
with sweet nasturtium on their lips in red and coral yellow
while we open our eyes wider.
In her garden, with the herbs she seldom trampled
sneaking shade amongst the trees while rabbit eyes alert
the world to paradise discovered.
In her garden.


Details | Free verse | |

Home Is Where the Heart Is Stilled

Abandoned places,where
perhaps memories linger,
with wisps of wafting moments,
aware, somehow, even of  the now,
Though long forgotten by all others,
One wonders why, and surely how,
Such strong vibrations of the past,
Seem to time, to have taken a bow...

Gutted building, windows broken,
Creaking, leaking floor,
Last stepped on by the living,
So many, many years before...

Where lives were lived, and
deaths have come in their way,
To others, in a time gone by,
Who here saw their last sad day,
Tears were cried,hearts
were smashed,
Love withered, its flame 
reduced to ash...

Is this a mysterious black hole of time??
A singularity, of now and here...
Where time is not so limpid...
And death is always near,
And fear can swim in the unknown,
The fear of time's mysterious cloud...
As ticks, as tocks, somehow go forever by, 
so mysteriously, and seemingly, oh so loud...

What was the last calendar's  year hung?
The last phone call received,
And who had been the one rung??

Ghost House,
Ghost House,
Scary, time
abandoned place,
Secure in forgotten
nothingness,
And with time, 
you've lost the race.


Details | Free verse | |

Give Him Your Heart


Someday, I believe
And only me, that truly knows
There in the New Jerusalem, I’ll live
Happily, with my Lord
I will not feel 
The sorrow and pain
That I’ve in this world
For my Father promised me
The true life
The happiness
The right 
To sing him praises 
Among the blest, in his throne 
Would you like to live in my Father’s house?
If you do, then, come and follow me
I will show you his love
And the Father will open the gate
If, you’ll give him your heart

 


Details | Free verse | |

Oasis

Oasis

The cup of kisses
Poured from lips
Such savage beauty
Must fight for breath
Its grave the body
Relinquished
Rides hurricane winds
Of coiled fascination
The images of everything

The tangles of thought
Are ribbons of the sky
Cloud born vaults
Lightening the blindness of souls
Dancing in the hail of caresses
With thunder roaring
Catching smiles
In the echo’s of names

Speak then
Of all that is done
To know this spot lit love
A performer of movements
In the ballet of lives

Imagine where the silence seems
Full
Raging to the resonance of a scream
Thinking of places behind the doors
Of dreams


The binding sun of eyes
Call to the desert
In a dust storm of years
The oasis of sex
Wetting a blessing with tears
Clutched in the sand held palms
All is known
All is shown

Conceive then to know
All places been
To fathom the thought in a phantom
Is all that it seems
To stand in a world
With so much more in
With never enough of a never ending
Wandering over the oceans
Of souls

Through space there is nothing more clear
The shinning face of the known
Between right and wrong
And all the lies and truths shown

It’s just a little curious to discover who
When all the struggle clears away
Nothing to think of
Except how to spend a day

So feast your eyes constantly
On all the beauty
No need to fight or remember
Just free to wander
Free to be free
The invisible gate 
The invisible key
Just walk through
And be

( what will it be like for you
   when I am me
   do you think that you know )



 


Details | Free verse | |

Silently Still

Hidden spirits motherland,
    destructions chosen horror.
Decayed barren grounds,
   ravaged territories dilapidation.
Debris leftover magnetic fields,
   crawls nuclear poisons contamination.


Ruins

           graphics

                          stand

           strongly

obscure.


Details | Free verse | |

Generic Minds

generic minds listen to generic music
have generic thoughts that are unknowingly abusive
watch generic things talk about generic things
gee this generic *****is spreading like a disease
better get your flu shot 
thats what they said to me
a suicidal vaccine 
a subliminal killing spree
its contagious and the outrageous
thing about it is that the people are blind in an eye
that they didn't even know they had
it's sickening to watch these clueless civilians 
inside the looking glass
with nightmares of being free
without a key to their mind
for it is trapped in the frequency
in the illusion of time
bathed in our universe
killing all that refuse to see
those that admit to hypocracy
or see the message in hip hop
how cant you see
the message in the lyrics that
bring adolescents to their knees
from bullet wounds conflicting their flesh
contradicting that they're the best
but the songs keep telling them that they dont need no rest
that they dont wanna go home
that they should ride alone
with the gat as their only companion
and so the only path they choose is the one that they're told
until they grow old and hope turns to a window pane
inside a window pane, until all they feel is pain
they realize that the music itself is ashamed
so whats to look up to
when you cant even speak when you cant even walk because you look so bleak
your eyes are sunken from the tv you're infested with the dee zees
now its too late to turn around and live for your conscious
so when youre screaming oh please
close your eyes and bring your mind to life
open your eyes for the first time
and never wonder why
since the answer this entire time
has been inside
and you better find it before you die
you dont want your soul to be in a pool with all the others
a buncha brothers missing their mothers
but only seeing strangers
only feeling the haters
wishing they would have used their minds when they had them
and now its too late,
now it's time for another new born fate to grab them


Details | Free verse | |

What really makes a house a home

House
Cat
Home.

Peter Dome.Copyright.2012.


Details | Free verse | |

Criminals- Part 1- Fiction

The morning arrived quickly
like some destined death at sunrise
this means its time to go
Across town to our morning job
waiting for us like the patient spider

I swear to you I didn't see him 
standing there at first
cloaked behind an umbrella of darkness
his eyes layed upon me like great weight 
on my shoulders; feeling his motives knowing 
what comes next.

We got him first
the guard I mean 
the latest stun g-- helps
he fell face first unto the damped
concrete.
We got away.


Copyright 2009 By Diiamond Rich


Details | Free verse | |

My Love---a very special original Japanese poem

Contractual agreements with publisher caused DELETION


Details | Free verse | |

Gorbals

The stench of urban decay winds thick 
and rank through squalid, narrow
streets christened with booze and urine,
permeating decades of neglect.

A drunken derelict slurs enthusiastic 
amens in hopeful penance at a rabid 
street-corner prophet spitting frothy 
travesties of religious dogma and warning 
of the divine wrath of a burlesque god.  

A conspicuous tourist clutches her handbag 
nervously as she skirts the entrance of a graffitied
alleyway and pretends to ignore the wolf-whistles
of a nearby band of loitering malcontents.

Her pace quickens at the sound of footsteps
and raucous laughter closing in behind her
while desperately seeking safety and the 
illusive walking bridge leading to the protective
haven of St. George's bustling square.  


Details | Free verse | |

A Stranger

Who am i?
Where am i?
Only a stranger in this little world. 
With no country, no home.
With all this confusion, with my head spinning around
Trying to accept the fact that I am a part of this.
But no matter how hard I tried. 
The truth is I can’t fit in here
Who am i?
Where am i?
Only a stranger who is trying hard to fit it.
My Anger needs a reason to blame it on
I will not try to fit in no more
I don’t care, why should I?
I don’t look like you, I’m not the same.
Who am i? 
Where am i?
Only a stranger who is trying to fit in.
I’m happy, Yet a little sad
But, My heart just cannot accept the fact that I became some1 New
My name says so
But my face says no
Who am i?
Where am i?
Only a stranger who is trying to fit in. 
No matter how I tried, No matter how hard I did
I’m not a part of here, I’m not a part of this
My home is where my heart belongs
I can’t change this fact 
In this country, I’m only a stranger 
So why wouldn’t you take me back home.
No matter how well I fit,
My heart will have it’s hole.
A hole that never will be refilled
Till you take me back home. 


Details | Free verse | |

Tropical Paradise

Alligators bask lazily on tree limbs overhanging the meandering rivers Gentle manatees playfully rise above the water line to catch a breath Such a delight to see these threatened mammals rebounding Palms and Live Oaks stand as sentries on the river banks Casting tropical silhouettes against the orange orb as it succumbs below pink clouds Across the peninsula on the Atlantic coast, seagulls huddle together Winter winds ruffle their feathers as they scavenge for food Even in cold weather, “snowbirds” flock to our shores Retirees leave their footprints on our white sands Each day, their prints are washed away as the tide thrusts its wet arms *Entry for Brian's Imagery contest


Details | Free verse | |

The Boardwalk

The Boardwalk

Whistles, jeers
Unrelenting young men
Ladies in swimsuits sigh while passing by

Screams from the Wild Mouse
Creaking ominously against summer skies
What happens if it fails to make that turn?

Spinning wheels, colorful trophies
“Step right up and try your luck!”
“Come on, Dad, it’s just a buck.”

Children’s laughter
Fun House draws a youthful audience
Mom and Dad slurp snow cones outside

Buzzing overhead
Plane with trailer invites diners:
“Sample succulent fare at Oyster Pad”

Honking trams
Make room for commuters
Who heckle pedestrians

Pounding surf
Lovers entwine beneath the wooden planks
Whispering promises of eternal affection

Cooing pigeons
Stalk the waffle stand
Wings flutter when bounty’s found

Yawning toddlers
Mothers cradle in their arms
Dads wearily tote huge, stuffed bears


* for the Sounds of Summer challenge


Details | Free verse | |

Mini Dubai

Two sparrows kiss,sitting
On a high bough of the tamarind.
 
Like a tamarind seed, my town, nicknamed 'Mini Dubai',
Had burgeoned and branched on the bank of  Kanoli canal.

Now the silvered canal sprawls on its death-bed.

Busy pedestrians walk down
An ancient bridge, built by the British.
As the traffic light has lost its eye balls,
A potbellied police man dances and controls.
Jalopies groan, and modern cars whiz.
A long whistle:an ambulance with the wounded
And a van with the wedding party, halt side by side,
As the southern and the northern hemispheres  
Of emotions meet at a single point ,by chance.

The nostalgic smell of the canal sops in the sizzling tang from a cafeteria.

Among the concrete buildings that seethe under the tanning rays,
The splurging women whirl in the hurry wind.The stink of sweat
And the aroma of the Arabian perfumes choke the air in shops,
Where, sometimes, the chicanery peek through the glassed.
To the government offices nearby, the applications drafted in blood 
And salt, scurry only to get the obsequies in the waste baskets. 
The sots creep like snakes in the yard of Sandra Bar

A crow sits on an electric post and watches all below with a smile of wisdom.



Details | Free verse | |

The Swimming Pool

The scene is a bit too bright, and the
Water is a bit too tart. Slightly acidic,
But mostly enticing, it feels good to him.

With measured step 
He walks up - jumps - 
And falls in.

Plunging deeper he tries to see 
But the chlorine burns his eyes,
A rhythmic exhale eases the pressure on his ears
But he can’t breathe and is afraid his heart
Will beat out of his chest.

Acquiescing to his pain, he faintly hears a voice beckoning him towards the wall, 
Finally reaching the bottom he pushes off the floor,
Frantically kicking towards the surface.

Swallowing his first gulp of air, his back stings as the wind renders an aftershock of motion,
But he happily pulls toward the ladder;
Eager to climb up and plunge again. 



Details | Free verse | |

Let us walk together

Let us walk together
to a garden of flowers
beneath a clear
blue sky of spring weather

we will when we get there my love
while away time
sitting under cool shades
of sinuously swaying trees
as we listen to the mellifluous
harm of nectar sucking bees

and the enchanting songs
of flower birds and watch
as butterflies of all glorious
colors grace the place

and when we are deeply satisfied	
I will pick for you the flower
most admired by bees,
flower birds and butterflies
                                                
and we shall walk back home 
dreaming of love 
which does not wither 
as time grows old
with a vivid picture
of a never aging flower garden 
painted on our minds  


Details | Free verse | |

Barrier Island

What weighs down this sandy wisp
between a bay and ocean
is not a causeway, not the press
of footed towers, nor the tread
of bare and browning bathers
on its narrow, wet, khaki-colored beaches --
It is the weight of air, cloudless, clear
but heavy air -- blue in the depths --
that arches overhead;
and it is the sizzle of minor surf
along the island's edges,
dampening sand, to stick upon the sea
like a licked stamp upon a letter.
The men, roads, and condos all may seem
to wrest control from nature and its weather;
but, we, who've spent some years here,
know better.


Details | Free verse | |

Her Minute of Fame

She walks out from the crowd,
looking at so many unknown faces.
As the sky begins to darken,
the lights brighten up the sky.

She is anticipating what is to come.
her name bounces off of the speakers,
she is ready to sing,
a tradition passed on age to age.

The crowd stands,
the flag unfurls,
and everyone begins to join in,
but she is heard above them all.

Words trail from her voice,
an echo in the background,
don't get off beat,
just one more note to breathe through.

The crowd begins to go out of control,
they anticipate the end,
she is building excitment inside her soul,
and the final word explodes from her chest.

Her heart begins to settle,
the crowd quiets down,
she has completed her minute of fame,
now the game must go on.


Details | Free verse | |

Elysian fields

There are these gifts from the Lord here where I stand   
Down the rivers edge with pebbles and dreams
Where the morning sun lay basking so sweet
Silver flickering springtime bugs
Flushing waters over submissive gems
Leaching carpets of moss find cozy roots
And those squeaking limbs rub in the breeze 
My shoes are soaked in this boggy soil -
But nuisance or not this feeling  lingers  
This place where I foot and stumble- 
Has changed with season 
But each change intrigues me so 
I’ve longed for the new birth to pioneer its self 
Oh joyful robins you’re a welcoming visitor-
And you shall create your nest for fledglings to come
This beauty I see in everything inspires me
Past the hallowed trunk and the particle pale fields 
My bench invites my to tell my tales


Details | Free verse | |

Scent of torso and song of bees

swells of honeysuckle waft
coy and semisweet
on a lazy southern breeze
reminding me somehow of home
though i’m not sure where that is
(my journey stumbles my toes)
as the tulips spring from parched sleep

solemn coils slink like whispers
in the tangle of forest musings
sorrow fuels
the way i remember
but cannot forget

its empty
when the cherry blossoms simmer
like stale sky
and blank verses
ink dries permanent
indelible
careless words can pinch
harsh like bitter wine
sting like scorpion tails
and black widow shadow
nostalgia twines like moonshine
wrecked upon my spine
as the wind blows my vertebrae
cracking my thorax empty

beauty spills
as tears trickle
down my tow chains
dark pulaski rains

still honeysuckle
coy and semisweet
swirls the air in this space
reminding me
there is no place like home
though i never really had one…


Details | Free verse | |

THE WITCHES' BALLET

In late October the reddest moon didn't change its phase,
it remained in the same spot to watch the witches' ballet;
the loud music matched the mood of the mystical night: tambourines
and flutes frantically played; sneers, jeers, giggles of the ugliest witches
mixed with the goblins' roars while they danced around a huge, hot fire.


I smelled a foul odor, the wild dogs feasted on a bloody oar,
" Leave some for us, or we'll turn you into bats! "
the hunched witch snarled with menacing eyes,
but they roared and threatened her with sharp teeth,
then Olga began to speak Latin words to cast  
a spell on them and before it worked, they fled.


Glad that they had left, she dragged the dead animal
and hung it on a long rod to roast on the sparking fire;
hungry witches continued to dance with forks and knives 
in their hands, anxiously waiting for their Halloween treat.  



Written by Andrew Crisci
for Russel Sivey's contest,
" The Ultimate Halloween Contest "
10/5/ 2012


Details | Free verse | |

Rat A - Tat- Tat

Rat a - Tat - Tat; Rat a - Tat- Tat the drums did roll and beat the men in their uniforms how they stood so tall and trim and neat, by ranks and files and squads they stood with weapons, packs and flags the flower of our nation's youth did march to the drummers' beat. Rat a - Tat - Tat; Rat a - Tat- Tat off to the wars they marched with waves goodbye, and speeches of pride they marched away while their loved ones cried. Rat a - Tat - Tat; Rat a - Tat- Tat While one could question the wisdom of war no one could doubt the soldier's scars, war after war they were sent... and bravely wherever sent - they went. Rat a - Tat - Tat; Rat a - Tat- Tat The drums did roll and beat the men in their uniforms how they stood so tall and trim and neat, and off to the wars they marched to the sound of the drummers' beat. Rat a - Tat - Tat; Rat a - Tat- Tat In battles they won to keep us free but not without a price for victory. They returned from places with names so strange but some returned to a different beat, with a slow roll, slow march - mournful and sad they brought our loved ones home again. To a grateful nation they gave their all without a whimper or complaint they saw it all and returned from places far away battered and scarred - but free. Rat a - Tat - Tat; Rat a - Tat- Tat Soon the sound of drums were heard and leaders did call again... with struts and speeches that sounded so grand off our youth were sent with a band Rat a - Tat - Tat; Rat a - Tat- Tat. Dedicated in loving memory to all who served.


Details | Free verse | |

Dunnotar

Dunnotar, protector of Scotland's honors,
how crippled you have become
but for Cromwell's rage and purpose.

Give the governor's lady your papers,
for all is not lost in your courts!

Through besieging forces
she will smuggle them out
in a place no gentleman dare search.

And your treasure is safe in her keeping,
until the crown of oppression is crushed
and the Viscountess assumes her duty

reviving your former glory;
resurrecting your rightful status
as you have done for Scotland,

preserving what has no price.


Details | Free verse | |

spilled ink on a perfect verse

This isn't the time to run away

Nor is it the time to hide

they say "use your whole heart

and take a dive"

 

I forgot the past  while I  lay in your arms

you partially held me

became my blanket for the meantime

I swam in you and you in I

threw caution to the wind

I didn't think that eventually I'd cry

well I knew I would eventually cry but my brain

and my heart hadn't made it that far yet.

 

I forgot about the boundaries

and entered unchartered territory

I went places that I shouldn't have gone

because I desired you more than anything

you occupied places in my heart that

should have been left alone

but I unlocked the door for you

and here you'll stay forever

 

I still get shivers when I hear your voice

And your energy makes me feel like I'm a boss

you see the thing that attracted me the most

is that you picked me up when I was lost.

I fell into you even though I knew the cost.

Now my heart will always be thirsty for you.

Like damaged hair it became porous.

 

I don't blame you though. And surprisingly

enough I don't even blame me.

We saw a chance to steal a goal

but ended up stealing things we couldn't keep.

For a moment I owned the property,

even if in secret. But the bank took you back

and put foreclosure on my feelings.

 

Now I'm left scrambling here and there.

I gotta roll my sleeves down and brush off

these lingering feelings. This isn't going to be easy because

 I will still be me and you will still be you. Its like trying to get

away from a walking advertisement as big as the ones in times

sqaure advertising someone whose perfect for you.

 

But that reality is unreal so I put one foot in frount of  me

and slowly start to move.....




Details | Free verse | |

Conspiracy: Who Killed The Easter Bunny

A crowded table, all suspended in shock 
The sound of the shot dimming to a ‘knock’
Only silence, except for the marching clock
The weapon still smoking; an anonymous glock
WHO KILLED THE EASTER BUNNY?

Loud cries arise from the elongated table,
Jack Frost is shocked, the Tooth Fairy unable
To speak whilst Santa is checking the stable
For clues on the erstwhile maidservant Mable
WHO KILLED THE EASTER BUNNY?

They searched for hours, called in C.S.I,
Panic set in, would the children all cry?
Sandman confirmed the bunny had died
Batman suspected somebody had lied
WHO KILLED THE EASTER BUNNY?

Guests were quizzed, interrogations began
The mystery unfolded when Santa Claus ran,
Grabbing the pies, he tried escaping in a van
But was stopped in his tracks by superman
SANTA KILLED THE EASTER BUNNY!


Details | Free verse | |

Shantytown

Rising sun out of the east,
Falls on the early morning on Riverside,
A shantytown just yonder of Laiser Hill,
A posh estate under Ngong Hills, 
And there on shanty Riverside,
They wake up like they always do,
It is another day that may brim with trouble,
Still it is another day nonetheless,
And so they hurry along like they always do,
They might earn a dollar or less today,
And just barely feed the little mouths tonight,
But at high noon high the little mouths will wait,
Maybe the noon high will go down easy today,
Let their hungry tongues patiently wait,
Till Mummy, maybe Daddy comes home,
With that dollar or less for tonight, 
If not it will be just like like last night, 
Little tummies grumbling in the night,
Little limbs trembling in the cold,
That is life in shantytown.


Details | Free verse | |

Grand Canyon - Arizona, USA

When something is:

So big you can't comprehend

So beautiful there are no words to say

So impressive you feel you stand on holy ground

So perfect people journey worldwide just to gaze upon its grandeur

So endless the river will forever change it

So colorful each day with the rising and setting of the sun

So often tried but never conquered

So old it will forever be this way

So we know we are small and without Him really nothing at all

So designed by God, a natural wonder


©Donna Jones


Details | Free verse | |

A summer sigh

The lush of the land lies as velvet moss green carpet
The river rushing its morning wash
rumbling as it spins twisting and turning its tidal path
over the chance carried stones to the seas
Where the coastal sands of time are met
Meeting waves pulled by undercurrents
Finding rocks, kale, seaweed and moss covered
Just as the hair of cherubs faces foamed
Then gently adorned with shell and mollusk jewels
and salty sea air crusts crystal formations alongside
In come the tides bringing with them oceanic treasures
Driftwoods, wreckage, salvage, 
that have crashed and bashed the cliffs along the way
To finally rest ashore and be renewed
To become beach combers delights
Trinkets gifts or items for the home


Details | Free verse | |

In A Hotel Room

to whoever finds this

time has unwound since I first checked in, clock hands creep backwards replaying each hour
the mind's wraiths tiptoe on satin-soft feet
I hear the hotel's heartbeat
                                                                                                                  something
                                                          
something moves within these walls, whispers behind floral decor, voices skitter
the TV witters like senility, air  s s n a k e s s  like smoke, static hissing in my ears
the bedside bible glitters blank    w   o   r   d   l   e   s   s    p   a   g   e   s
my mind is fuzzy as the tinny TV
how many hours have passed?
now a twilight of sapphires sifts, drifts into the room
pale figures are filtering, slithering belly-deep through gloom

trapped the walls squeezing the key in the lock screeching frantic fingers scratching
for some way out, the dead phone doesn't connect except
to shrill with bad news and more bad news, ice trickles of chill diagnoses
fear seeping like condensation shrieks echoing in the walls
                                                                                              the room

the room is a galleon, tempest-tossed
                                                              the bed

the bed is a starched white wasteland, first cold then hot cold hot, Siberia to Sahara
how many have shivered and sweated in this bed? how many are dead?
the crushing heart attacks, sudden strokes, sad suicides
six storeys down to the waiting street through the window's snide slide

what's the song? you can check out any time you like (but never leave)
escape is draping a noose around me, there's no reprieve

I'm checking out it's time to leave


Details | Free verse | |

Junlado Maiden

Beneath sullied cloth, hastily covered
chain of seashells nestled
soundless, threads of an old story.
Your eyes, beneath lashes that catch
snow—I see the deep blue
sea of Junlado, 
waves shining grey before the setting sun.
What are you doing here in the frozen north?
You came from seashores
cherry blossoms raining upon 
your brown upturned face
dreaming of another world, you beautiful fool.
There is no other world when we
all suffer beneath endless winter. 
Pity, a sweet face lined and streaked;
I watch it as you pour wine.
I, merely a wanderer
in rags, as we all are.
But I am strong, dear child.
Let me not see those purest tears
forming, unforming within
sinless eyes—
what are you doing here?
Go back
Go back to your land. 
Swim, there, forget, in the bluegrey 
Let joyful pearls make pure a salty sea.
We all suffer, but
you
at least 
deserve to go back.


Details | Free verse | |

MY HONESTY CAUSED A MESS

If I had lied like everyone else who achieved their goal,
I could have spared myself an useless headache,
and it seems late to realize that my honesty caused a mess!
There was a table for two sweethearts
in the finest restaurant, my first date supposed to have been perfect
with all the enthusiasm and the sorrounding athmophere:
a boutique of roses and scented candles! 


The girl's name was Amenda with big eyes of sapphire,
the boy's name was Andrew a little outspoken but funny;
everything went smoothly, the food was superb and the waiter
with an Italian accent was humorous and helpful,
but happened next is something nobody would believe.


Amenda had too much wine and started to talk non-sense
asking me, " What kind of work do you do?" 
I promptly replied, " I am a chief ! " and boasting with pride,
silly words flowed from my mouth, " You should see me
in my uniform...everybody loves it! "  Amenda with angry eyes
yelled, " Everybody...including the dumb blonde
and the red headed who order food just to see you? "
I jolted as if in a powerful earthquake, " How do you know that? "
But she with a malignant glance exploded, " I saw them
flirting with you while they waited for their order! "  


" Oh, pretty boy, you brought me here to listen to your aspiration,
I must be stupid enough to believe everything you say? "
I stood up, pushing back my seat and swore, " I never intented to lie,
Amanda...I am sorry for getting you upset, and if my honest caused a mess,
I apologize with all sincerity. " Ah, you even mention the word sincerity:
here's you reward, fool! " And splashing a glass of wine all over my sharp suit,
she left...while the crowd started to laugh, thinking it was a movie scene.  


Here's my deepest reflection on telling little, white lies,
" Guys, on your first date...don't say what you actually do for a living,
invent a profession that brings in tons of money, like a surgeon or attorney;
go ahead and have fun, and the more excited you get her,
the more she'll believe you...who wants to be a loser on his first date? "


Details | Free verse | |

Hapi Godess of the Nile

From cradle to grave the sun baked
the skin leather, un-oiled
and rain did not fall
for Isis with held her tears.
From the bloody care of womb
children popped like bread from
the oven of women, the urns of life, 
earthen were their colors
ocher, saffron, and 
some as black as basalt, rich…
with a Nubian glow.
How the small ones squeal
at the wadi’s edge.
How the toes of man and beast
dance at the skirt of mother Nile, 
sensuous, rippling with the wind,
or placid in the doldrums of summer sun.


Details | Free verse | |

Bao - Yu

<                                         Bao - Yu
                                        precious jade
                                    your angelic font 
                                  cast mirrored images
                                      off stilled pond


                                  orchids in woven hair
                                  garments of satin and lace
                                  you lying in fetal position
                                  upon granite's stone
                                  tell me heavenly Goddess


                                  Why Do You Look So Sad  ?




Written By Katherine Stella

For Rambling Poet's
Reflection Contest 

G.L. ALL

Name Of This Poem 
Is Entitled
Bao -Yu


Details | Free verse | |

The Fountain Garden

Amid the flowers ever blooming, ever fragrant,
Amid the stone pathways edged with brick,
Amid the gravel I peacefully walk over, 
Hearing the slight crunch beneath my feet,
Here lies color upon color of hanging baskets and garden trims.
Here lie bushes of color to draw me in.
Cooler air and peaceful, beauty surrounds me like a cocoon.
And amid this a fountain of gentle beauty I do not wish to leave soon.
A fountain that totally greets my senses.
The running of water, the bubbling and tumbling over stone.
I feel the peaceful sounds deep and close inside.
A bench begs me- “Stop. Rest your weary soul. Feel the peaceful sound.”
Here the songs of birds do greet me as they eat from feeders above and
Drink from the fountains below.
Their colored plumage and delicate flight adding to the beauty bestowed.
Other fountains with gurgling water entice me from place to place.
What beautiful shapes and designs do I anticipate to be next?
Beside what peaceful flow of water will I next seek my rest?
I linger and forget my travails as I mentally rest.
In this shadowed and cool garden I linger to hear sounds and see sights 
Never to forget.
As I continue the journey an occasional bench begs my senses- to stop again.
Feel the peace. See what is here.
Some fountains have hidden treasures to espy.
Statuary nymphs and frogs peak quietly from gentle foliage nearby.
I beg to know what animals traverse here in peace within this world.
My mind begs me to write words to describe such delights.
I am enveloped in a feast before, behind, and surrounding my senses.
A trellis begs my attention in lush smells sent to my nose.
A trellis of color and unusual design to add to my prose.
A water sprite beckons my indulgence to notice her again.
Finally the tumbling of water sends me forward to a new treat,
Begging of my senses the new treasures for to eat.
Each a joy to behold. Each adding to my wish to never leave.
Eventually the world will again bend me to my knees.
But a moment I have gained of beauty to behold.
A memory to take in my sojourn, as my life unfolds.
Memories that can bring me back to this peaceful place in my mind.
Though only a moment, I have gained something precious to behold.
I now carry within a pocket of my mind- a memory to bring me back to
The Fountain Garden.

CSEastman  


Details | Free verse | |

Interim

This fertile womb lies still in wait.
Void of motion, sound and love;
A lonesome space of plaster and brick.
Worn carpets and marked walls
That surround this shell,
Are signs of seed now grown and gone.
This cell has served a family well.
More fruit within this void shall swell.


Details | Free verse | |

Minnesota Wild

<                                          Minnesota Wild

                                 Like its loon that cascades it's lakes


                                             Minnesota Wild

                                  Like it's black bear strong and fierce

                                            
                                              Minnesota Wild

                                   Like it's deer and 12 point bucks

                                    
                                              Minnesota Wild

                                   Like it's rivers and winding streams

                                              
                                              Minnesota Wild

                                   Like it's mighty timbers and pines


                                              Minnesota Wild

                                   Like it's eagle that soars forever free


                                               Minnesota Wild

                                   Like it's pheasant and wild turkey

                                 
                                               Minnesota Wild

                                       Like it's great northern pike 


                                               Minnesota Wild

                                    My anthem and illuminated theme





Entry For
John Heck's
Encore Contest
G.L. All

                            

                                   

                                 

                                 

                                 


Details | Free verse | |

Wind Song, With Birds

The wind
howled ice-cold, clear-sky
lullabies

and awoke the moon,
who gazed, heavy-lidded,
at the stars around her

Leaves and dust
danced sambas and pirouetted
along the desert's river,

who was shivering uncontrollably
while midnight birds
struggled to fly upstream

against the manic,
stinging, musical currents
of turbulence and wonder


Details | Free verse | |

The Beach

What a magical place, the beach.
Where there is no need to sing and no need to look back to the regrets of each day.
Where we can silently listen to what it is the waves try to tell
Where the rocks serve as the cushion where we softly lay down each painful         
memory, that even though they hurt we want to protect.
Where the past becomes jealous of the present.
Where we patiently await for the waves to carry away the message in a bottle to some 
safe and nonexistent destination.
											
Yes, the beach, where the cool breeze caresses the stress and sadness off our faces
Where crying in the rain is over-rated
Where every tear drowns a memory
And the waves crash against the rocks as if beating an odd

Where there is no need to sing, do you hear the wind? Do you understand its melody? 
Can you feel its strength undressing every inch of every scar time has tattooed in our 
lives?
The beach and its wide space where you can hear the eco of your silence screaming into 
the air whatever it is that makes you silently cry.
Where every ray of sun burns the unnecessary and painful thoughts that float into space.
Yes, the beach where the silence is invaded by the splendid rudeness of the wind
Where you can build a castle in the sand, be the queen/king, and rule the world.
Where we can freely unleashed the Black Stallion inside our spirits that we are forced to 
imprison.
Where you see the future shine in the polychromatic coral reefs. 
Where salt taste so sweet.
The beach where 5:00 A.M. is the precise time to live for an eternity and 6:00pm the 
precise time to leave it all behind and start all over again.


Details | Free verse | |

A Costly Mistake

Contractual agreements with publisher caused DELETION


Details | Free verse | |

A Simple Southern Christmas

It's gonna be a simple southern Christmas here.
All I want from Santa is some egg nog, bourbon and beer.
I'm gonna wait on Santa Christmas Eve night,
and when he's not lookin' I just might,
steal his reindeer.
It's gonna be a simple southern Christmas here.
I'm sending out my Christmas cheer.
I'm gonna sit on my front porch swing and sing.
It will be a good thing to hear those jingle bells ring.
I thought I seen Santa on the backwoods bayou road,
but instead it was a big fat toad.
It'a a wonderful simple southern Christmas here.
Santa just brought me some egg nog, bourbon, and beer.
When he wasn't lookin' I stole his reindeer.
So now I can deliver my Christmas cheer.
But hurry, hurry, I'm in a rush,
got to give that reindeer a little push.
Got to go, got to go,
got to get home to fix my gumbo.
It is Christmas day,
and I'm in  a rush I must say.
It's gonna be a simple southern Christmas here.
Just add egg nog, bourbon and beer.
Mix it up with some Christmas cheer.
I'm ready for Christmas every year.


Details | Free verse | |

A Moment

The day is oh so quiet.
The sun has not come up.
But I can see it peeking.
The world awaits it on its throne.
Everything is still.
No one is running about.
What a perfect time for poetry…
Before my brood is up.
Beautiful. Serene.
A cup of coffee near by.
A moment out of time.
Within this cocooned moment…
The world is all mine.


Details | Free verse | |

Thunderstruck Sunshine

The clouds shook
A thick, black, very wet blanket out
In the Southeastern quadrant 
Of the New Mexico firmament,
Complete with lightning
And growling, crackling,
Massive basso-profundo sound effects,
Inviting the sun to rest,
Take a load off, 
Reeellaaaxxx! 

Abrasively radiant,
Helios glared a brilliant, heated, passionate,
Steamy smile
Into the arid monsoon skies

And refused Storm’s invitation
To lie down and go to bed


Details | Free verse | |

Hot Jazz

Slow drawn, steeping tea bags, in an etched glass pitcher, Lazily infuse its Oriental musk into the sun warmed brew. My ice crackles along with the thunder over the great Mississippi As the ewers’ spout releases the torrents of Southern comfort Into the tall, foggy, frost laden glass; I await my fill. A frigid sip chafes my lips and briefly deadens my longing, Only momentarily, as the turgid air, again, envelops my throat. The chills grip my spine, even in this oppressive heat. Sauntering droplets roam slowly down my bare skinned back And puddle where my hips widen at the curve of my waist. Hope is lost for those of us who float through purgatory. The weight of two centuries of sorrow hangs heavily on our skin. The burden is at its worst to bear just before autumn, When slave ships broken by storms washed up on the river. Airlessness provides no clemency for those gasping for pardon. Sorrow lies heavily in the lungs of the poor souls of August. Heat, fetid and damp, feverishly enables man’s basest passion, To be disguised as music, that wails from the saloons in the Quarter. Deep, boiling, fermented tales of sorrow are turned into song, Melodic tales spun of sorcery, savagery blue and untethered souls, Forged metals and the scat of primitive voices, break the fugue. Echoes of blasphemy wrought suffocating havoc and destruction, As hot jazz blows cool through the streets of the Ninth Ward.


Details | Free verse | |

Boney Bonny Dames and Old Money Games


Until I've seen, Melbourne days
	was not just emptiness in play
I know I'll see
What I didn't see,
the September soaked symphony
	of Vivaldi vines climbing,
jacaranda booms,
tremolo spilling eaves

Until you know this suburban kid's righted the wrong
I'll verse on my way, you as the bridges in my song
Making choruses of dreams that could soon belong

And urban princes and their Porsches
Lost in winters, cold in summers
They adore to ornate you, over muskwood and glassy silvers
But can they look up to the night,
And know wonder in the sight?
In that blue-hued veiled Van Gogh I see your stars

These hardened hands carrying letters I send
	will wear me down to some sorry end
And this I know
But I'll go knowing
the Chapel charade was the pretty noise
	of sonnets chasing sunsets,
drunk Welsh poets
tearing tails for London wisps

Until it comes, a northern boy without southerly blues
The swaying Yarrans, sparkling flutes, Victorian flues
Keeps Flinders Station stepping full of over-priced shoes

And boney bonny dames, old money games
Skirts for winters, surgeons for gains
They climb to lower you, for fifteen lights upon their names 
But can they look up to the night,
And know wonder in the sight?
In that blue-hued veiled Van Gogh I see your stars


Details | Free verse | |

Wild Western Blizzard

What could I really know of the breaks 
                                                                in the land
huge canyons               bleeding red              cut by the wind
with the snow swirling                                  around our tires
barns upright 
                                   and fallen to a  tumble like icebergs
windshield riming over with a crust of ice
                        we scrape madly inside
                              trying to keep cold out
speed slowing
slowing to a crawl
always on the lookout
outside line appearing and gone, 
                                                                    no worries about
cattle led inside to safety    to be watered               and fed
but what of us?
                       Will we be trapped clutching a candle
                             wanting a chocolate bar, 
                                 waiting for a tractor?
and all the flat seeming land seems to have ditches
and roof pitches and rushing trees, and a swirl
                         of slumbering snow 
                                             to lumber down in drifts and piles
no fire would ever warm us
                                                                temperature dropping
dropping 
            until finally we see it                shining in the dark
                                          a lantern at a farm
a fleet of snow mobiles to greet  us
                                                                   scurry is off 
                             before our ears turn blue, 
                                would they fall off?
Luckily, not tonight, not in this blizzard, 
                                                                      we have home.


Details | Free verse | |

Lacovia Road

Lacovia road
Here once the bambo trees
Dance like native girls
In native half-nakednesss
And farmers trudge a way
Not so long nor forbidding now
Along the banks where lizards lazed
A scampering of children
And trees are with sturdier concrete replaced.
The slant of rain obscures the dry of sun.

Lacovia road 
I cannot tell which house you use to live
My old landmark 
Of public standpipe is gone
And perhaps lovers 
Meet in virtual space of idleness
Instead of where the gossip flowed
And fill the empty lives
With long leashes of control
Dripping from tireless tongues.

Lacovia road
And a fluttering dust of memory
Like paper littering the school yard
New mansions are strewn among the grass
Old cottages gone
Gone too the wattle and daub familiarity
Where we huddled out of the rain
And shared bammy and avocado
And old stories of Kujo crawling through the sugarcane
Among the crocodiles and in their skin
And the British fright to see the thing
Up like rabbit running for more than life

Lacovia road
And the big river still brims below
The old capital
Rearing for recognition without the mango trees
And shrimp sellers at the side of road
Without women burdened with cassava load
I long to smell the fry fish still
These stable buttress of the old economy
Replaced by the late coming
And harsh selection of a spindly modernity
Juxtaposed against a vast and ancient history
Of moments eternal.


Details | Free verse | |

Summer is lemonade

Summer is a lemonade
 
Summer breeze blowing the grass around
with a warm sun kissing my face
blue skies wrap and hug me
as I watch the butterflies race.
Summer gives me lazy days
coloured flowers and dancing trees
smell of charcoal and starry nights
brings back childhood memories.
Summer is an endless beach
sun cream, bikinis and beer
salty seaspray, fish and chips
postcards saying "wish you were here".
sunburnt shoulders and fun fares
laughter never seemed to fade
grab the ice and share around
yes Summer is a lemonade


Details | Free verse | |

Roll Call

Contractual agreements with publisher caused DELETION








Details | Free verse | |

Passchendale: 3rd Battle of Ypres, 1916

Even the dead reject this blasted earth.

The ground, such as it is,
Is freshly Antidiluvean,
And the corpses swim within its tumbled, heaving masses
Blood and mud the mortar
Holding the chaos together.

The sun is weak,
Ashamed to break the haze
And bring to light the obscenities transpiring here.

The whistles blow
And the troglodytes emerge
From their respective holes,
Staggering towards one another
Through watery craters
Over the mincemeat of comrades
To add themselves to the swimming sacrifice
Constantly on offer 
To the insatiable, sole diety of this place,
The Mud-God, Futility.

     They are men no more,
     Those who struggle 'neath
     The leaden skies
     The wan sun
     Of the sodden moonscape
     That is Passchendale.

     They are only raging beasts
     Trading pain for pain,
     All trace of cause or reason
     Lost in the maelstrom of their collective misery -

And the only escape
Is to slay and to be slain;
To join the bitter shades
Ascending with the fog and smoke
Through the wall of cloud above,
To vanish into the icy deeps
Among the far, impassive stars.


Details | Free verse | |

The Pirate's Cove (Anaphora)

I like sailing on the high seas over crystal blue waters
I like seeing the waves rising and feeling the splash
I like sights of jolly pirates swinging across the decks
I like sounds of parrots whispering beautiful words
I like scenic episodes that are challenging to the soul
I like seasonal ventures deep into the mystery of love
I like serious drama of swash buckling and bottled rum
I like shabby old treasure chests of gold and rubies
I like silence when the sea is calm and all is at rest
I like starting it again, splashing high sea adventures
I like sailing on the high seas over crystal blue waters!



Comments:    Anaphora is the repetition of at the same word (or group of words) 
at the beginning of successive phrases, clauses, sentences, or lines.  This 
anaphora poem is all about the pirates experiencing a high sea adventure.


Details | Free verse | |

Partial Eclipse of the Sun seen in Ireland today

It was a majestic sunrise
as a honeyed circle rose behind tall silhouette trees
emanating wonder and peace
an apple sun
with a bite bitten
the garden of Eden flashed my mind
as a partial eclipse of the sun glowed
a very special good morning 
watching the moon circle the sun


Details | Free verse | |

Hot COFFEE HOUSE

     H- hide behind, Hot Coffee
     O- offer one and sit down
     T-  talk, with delight found 
 
     C-  coffee cup from which I sip
     O-  overture of digestion, very quick
     F-  feeling better and here I sit
     F-  forensic negative in a pith
     E-  easy place for a donuts to dip
     E-  ergonomic well grained hit

     H-  here your worries drown
     O-  only one, now sit down
     U-  understatement of the year
     S-  steadily sipping with-in your peers
     E-  everyone enjoys hot coffee at the COFFEE HOUSE


Details | Free verse | |

The Green River

She slips from the sleeping ice.
Green, fresh, free to flow
through the great fjord.
Past the blue mountains.

She glides smoothly
over the rocks with glee,
covering them with her cool touch.
Tall evergreens cheer her on.
Waving as she courses down her chosen path,
carrying life. 

All the while never tiring!
Surging forward to join the others like her.
This vast journey ,
will not end till she reaches
The Great Shores.

Her journey is joyful.
Touching all on her banks,
leaving the gift of life in her wake.


Details | Free verse | |

The Great Blasket Islands

Visits long ago 
to the Blaskets Islands,
to untouched areas 
on the Dingle peninsula
came to mind 
on this sleet winter’s eve.

The peninsula,
nestled in heather mountains.
The coastline,
tongues of lonely white sand.
waved rocks,
drenched in blue mussels
tide pools, 
alive with shrimps and periwinkles
A sea-salted life
unspoiled and free.

Only marine life remains,
but I still hear the music
our native language,
the voices of Seanchaí
the ballads, sean?s, 
Peig Sayers
who shaped our school years,
her renditions of island life
her mad pise?gs,
handed down 
from generation to generation.

Stories of
Islanders huddled together
under thatch,
open turf fires
cooking pot on a hook,
the sweet air wafting
of clay pipe tobacco
a pinch of snuff
sniffed from a silver box,
nursing a glass 
of neat Poitín, uisce beatha,
the strong smell of tweeds
and geansaí báinín.

I think of times lost,
changed forever.
Cottage ruins,
where goats roam free,
An Blascaod Mór
my history, my heritage.

Gaelic words in this poem


* Seanchaí – storytellers
Sean?s – singing without music
Peig Sayers and her mad pise?gs – A Gaelic writer who we studied in school and her mad superstitions.
Poitín, uisce beatha – very strong alcohol made from potatoes, called the water of life.
geansaí báinín – strong sheep wool sweaters usually in a cream colour with complex patterns.





Details | Free verse | |

A

e


Details | Free verse | |

Skycraper

grips the cloud deck, two hands
steely teeth sink holes
bitten cold, like ice cream
swallowed whole
brain freeze, wind whip
stir stick, mixed

pinnacle obstacle, 
lift up the ground
shadowed down
ant workers flip, switch pincers 
scale back five times
their body weight, again

hollowed out, night glow
exaggerated king,
spectacle and sceptre
spiked, lighting rod crown
flash strike, light blast
subtle subject safety net

for now


Details | Free verse | |

The Luck Of The Irish

Ahhh the luck of the Irish 
complete with leprechauns 
and pots of gold 

The Emerald Isle 
God's country 
filled with lyrical voice 

but no one hears her cry 

that fabled luck 
truly a fable t'would seem 

suffering 
the only thing in abundance 
it is their only pot 
that remains filled 

an impoverished relative 
showing up late for dinner 
tossed a few scraps 
from the rich relatives
but not allowed to sit at the table

a history rich with servitude
famine, plaque 
and indentured slavery 

spit upon by class distinctions 
laughed about as uneducated 
their brogue common 

ahhh yes the curse of the commoner
in a society that rewards 
upper class and the deemed 
right of birth 

drunken happy go lucky louts 
that would steal your pants 
rather than wash his own 
and on and on the prejudice flows

from old days into the new 
of drinking and gambling 
even in the movies 
portrayed as a rogue 

these perceptions followed 
fine people across the sea
where they built the cities 
endured the hardships 

and still no one hears their cry 
no one gives them their due 

they did the jobs 
others were to afraid to do
the hard labor
standing on steel skyscrapers 

so many descendent's
of this proud people 
have formed the foundations 
of other countries 
and still they do not control their own 

now the world frowns 
not understanding the religious battle 
that dwells within 
it's all they have 
their faith 
it makes perfect sense to me 

for yes the Irish 
would start a fight in a church 
for they are not afraid 
to stand up for their beliefs 

they are just hollow 
for so much 
has been taken from them
so much suffering 
has been endured 

so they cling to their faith 
as a man clings to a life preserver 
for to lose that last vestige 
they will lose themselves 

ahhhh the luck of the Irish 
maybe they should pass that luck to another 
then maybe someone will hear their cries

someday they may follow the rainbow 
and will truly find that pot of gold





Details | Free verse | |

AYE IRELAND

Aye Ireland -
king of the ol’ plains,
ye beacon us back to 
the land of shamrocks,
wid yer pubs-n-ale,
mates and song,
and Celtic traditions
wid Gaelic delight.

Aye Ireland,
on Saint Patty’s Day 
ye awaken us 
to yer majestic beauty,
panoramic shores,
tranquil life,
courageous history 
and aye, 
yer lovely Irish maidens.

Aye Ireland –
through trails 
and tribulation
yer sparkle endures.
Ye embrace faith,
play hard,
laugh hardy
feel yer hearts wid joy
and love 
wid deliberation 
and purpose.

Aye Ireland -
beautiful Ireland,
king of the ol’ plains –
ye beacon us.

bhí dhá labhra budh rí ar seanchlár


Details | Free verse | |

Mexico Lindo

Mi Mexico lindo:

Burnt orange and ochre --

color de limon --

pineapple, lime, red pajaritos...

land of mananas, grace in mantillas...

balanced canastas, ojos expresivos.

Sunshine and heat, fiesta y corrida,

salt and tortilla, pride and tequila.

Frijol and machismo and chile con queso.

Adobe, caliche, sweet agua fria...

Mexico, te amo mucho, y su gente amable!




Details | Free verse | |

Drawing From The Deep Well

Drawing water from deep well
Clear _cool refreshing water
Drop bucket _watch fall
That windless works
That is if you do
Turn _turn the rope
Each turn gets much harder
A lot like life, friend



1.  Drawing (1)     10.  Watch(1)     19.  Turn(3)      27.Like(1)
2.  Water(2)         11.  Fall(1)         20.   The(1)      28.Life(1)
3.  From(1)          12.  That(2)        21.   Rope(1)    29.Friend(1)
4.  Deep(1)          13.  Windless(1) 22.    Each(1)
5.  Well(1)           14.  Works(1)     23.    Gets(1
                                                                                            
6.  Clear(1)         15.   Is(1)          24.    Harder(1)  
7.  Cool(1)          16.   If(1)           25.   A(1)
8.  Refreshing(1)  17.  You(1)        26.    Lot(1)
9.  Drop(1)          18.  Do(1)


Details | Free verse | |

Color of a Man's Character

The Color of a Man’s Character
We all bleed
And cleave to 
Those we leave

We all smile when we are greeted
And cry when we are mistreated

Why do we choose to abuse others 
For the color of their skin?

Why do we think that only 
Our own color should win?

We’re all the same underneath 
We all deserve peace 
When we lay down to sleep

Love one another while you can
Show your son how to be gracious
The color of a man’s character 
Is how he treats his fellow Man.


Details | Free verse | |

Great Pyramids of Giza

The pyramids have made me ponder
Sprouting tall in sands of timeless plunder
They raise the palms, of either hand
Among the eighth, of wonderlands
I'll hold a constellation of small conclusions
While coming forth with wise solutions
The Sphinx, she taunts me,  with ancient riddles
Of mere coincidence, or majestic plan
The likeness climbs the vulnerable mind
Comparisons of any kind
Rival all of Mother Nature

To look about the infrastructure
If it fails to quiet me with sure decision
What my eyes acknowledge
Must bear no burden of proof
It is simply there, exempt from time
No moorings hold it to past or future
Overlooking River Nile
I smile and ponder why and how
There is delight in the wonder of obscurity
A purity in never knowing
A culture keen in keeping mystery


______________________
For PD's Contest: Epic Mysterious


Details | Free verse | |

The Bird Is The Word

<                   encircling mountain's crest... the mighty eagle .. soars

                     amidst wetlands standing erect the blue huron
                     toppling muskrat homes waiting for mice and shrews
                     colonies emerge shrub trees and lagoons to bond
                     butterflies flutter medows of greenish hues
                     snaphots taken afar this is all I could do

                     catails ~ sway ~ sounds ~  thunder
                     pheasants fly off in frenzy
                     braided and despaired
                     yet forges right on ahead
                     they live see another day

                     night ~ time's ~ calling ~ for ~ the ~ wise ~ old ~ owl
                     bidding feathered friends well ado's


A combination of Monoku, Quintain {English }
Tanka & Crystalline For
Constance LaFrance's For {Four } Beautiful Birds Contest
Written by Katherine Stella
5/8/2011  



                 
                     
                     
                               

                     

                     


Details | Free verse | |

Christmas delights!

Clouds garland snow capped mountain peak
Icy snow butterflies melt kisses upon my nose
Puffs of warm, moist breath balloons billow out before me,
quickly chilling, disappearing before my eyes
Crunching snow compacts beneath booted feet
Prints set deep, little more than momentary reminder 
of where you have stepped before
Crisp white blanket glints
almost winking it’s Christmas card welcome
as it’s vast white carpet spreads before you beckoning 
All of nature along with everything manmade becomes anew
Nothing seems out of place
A bird lands on branch of tree causing cascade of padded canopy
New mound takes position with little noticed effect on perfect landscape

Children laugh and run as they hurl packed balls at one another
Dashing, darting, ducking and returning rogue ammunition
to offending hand and screams of pleasure
Slipping, falling they tumble over repeatedly 
Waving arms and legs, when finally still to create snow angels
Then, standing up clothed as abominable snowman
Giving rise to fresh ideas as new creation begins with rolling snow
Bigger and bigger they chase and push, packing tight as they go
Another ball a little smaller to place on top of first for head
Then off they scatter in all directions looking to clothe their model
Returning with woollen hat scarf 
carrot and stones to place as eyes nose and mouth with button features
Admiring they know their masterpiece shall be short-lived
For mother nature’s hand will chance to create another slushy muddy puddle


Details | Free verse | |

Emigration comes full circle

I left Ireland in the 80's with my husband and two babies for Holland. In 2003, we 
returned so that our children could have an Irish University education. Dublin was 
buzzing with life at the time, it was very expensive but we were home. Now in 2011, 
my daughter is emigrating, back down the old ancestral path, she is going to Madrid 
to teach English there. Our country has collapsed so badly, there is no employment 
here so we are exporting our young, educated children by the day. A sad day for me 
as my daughter leaves tomorrow. I wrote her this poem.


To Sarah
On the wave of emigration
I want you to know
That I see you, a fellow female
An equal on every level
Not just my daughter
My little pink princess
I see you as a woman
A power within this world
With oceans to offer
A lifetime still to learn
Go to your new life
A teacher in Madrid
Be free and fearless
Spread your wings and fly
Take the opportunities
Shape them to your dreams
You have all the tools
You can use them now.

Your analytic mind
Will help you make good decision
Fair and just rewards will ensue.
Your radiating heart
Will gift you new friendships
Maybe even a new love
All in good time
You will never be alone
Because you have a deep sense of self
This will be fortified
With this new tide
Your feet firmly planted
Will always serve you well
Balancing the ups and downs of Libra
Always true to yourself
Life will be true to you too.

We live in a new age today
This global world is small
As we email and skype
Fly back and forth to visit
We will continue to love
As mother and daughter
Our journeys through life
Shared
Forever together
My love
I will hold you safe
In my heart.
 


Details | Free verse | |

To Russia With Love

under the veil of equality 
it silently slithered 
feeding words of lies 
to those starved for truth 

and they swallowed 
them whole 
for they ached inside 
their hollow existence

were poverty thrived 
among classes 
they yearned to 
abolish 

and so the promise 
breathed hope anew 
drowning capitalism 
and blinding democracy 

the veil was lifted 
all those who swore 
alligiance
would be covered by 
security 

and so the lie was told 
silently it took  
freedom 
choice 
and individuality 

to now live within 
a regime 
that demanded 
and exercised its right
with cruelty and depravity 

lambs to the slaughter 
and so they went 
willingly 
until reality dawned 

finding poverty still resided 
at their table 
with no means 
to fill the empty plates 

with food stamps 
their allotment gathered 
in tiny rooms of three 
for ten souls 

and the winter winds 
blew harsh 
across their discontent
revealing the truth 

as Stalin smiled 
Lenin laughed

robustly
well fed, well groomed 
as so very well kept 

voices cried out 
but disappeared 
into the darkened nights
of Siberian slumber 

and the carved walls 
assembled for protection 
trapped them 
in their own solitude 

with the twinkling lights 
from the Kremlin 
beaming upon the stone 
painting it in the color 
that would come to represent 
their ultimate demise 

and Lenin and  Stalin sang loudly 
to Russia with love...



Details | Free verse | |

Black Jungle Cat

Several women were in the breezeway
Going from the sanctuary to the Fellowship Hall.
On either side of the French doors,
They gazed out the large windows in fear.
As I walked up to them, one of them asked
In hopeless desperation, "Who will go outside
And get the supplies for us."  They looked at each other.
She said this because the enemy was on our shores,
Patrolling every city, great and small.  I saw the armies.
People were afraid to venture outside their houses.
There were no soldiers in the street at this time.
It was a clear day.  I said to them, "I will go."
I opened and closed one French door and felt it...
FEAR was thick.  It crouched like a black jungle cat,
Panther or jaquar, lurking in the brush for prey.
My eyes were wide open as I walked the distance
Of the Staff's parking area.  There was a chamber 
Underground set aside for certain supplies.  
The enemy's presence was strong as I looked around.
I think I had to unlock its door before I opened it.
I took what was needed and walked through Fear.
I never saw him, but the enemy's threat to pounce
Was felt with each step until I quickly reached the porch
And entered back inside the church in front of the office.


(This is a dream I had the year after 9/11.)


Details | Free verse | |

Remains Of A Driveway

Through you I seek to know:
What happened once below?

You ferns of resistance, I see you
Mixing it upward with 
A firm stance. 
(Such steely green weeds
Do smirk indeed
Above the empty path of horizon’s eye,
Blackened to nowhere).

What, though, do I see in you?

(A path lies vacant and wanting,
A land once named upon a dream;
A barren place now daunting,
Neglected and unseen).

Where is your truth?

(Does it rest within your clumsy bud’s dance
With a tertiary sky,
Or a raucous from your stem’s windward need 
To lead)?

Oh No.

I do believe:
It is your roots of defiance!

To know Home in no shame;
To forge through scarred soil with no blame!

Such courage you have:
To reap the shifting tar of fickle men, 
And safely hasten away 
From the notion of never again!

(Thirty some years have stood and fell
Yet…
Your quiet presence lives to tell
This hell,
Once known,
As Love’s canal).  

Oh eager green,
 I wish you well.


Details | Free verse | |

The Village of Goodbyes

I read a story about a village I never knew,
And I’ll never go and see.
 
Nothing’s new but despondent smiles
For the tourists,
And I can’t be the reasoning 
Behind something untrue.

Tragedy is a thing like beauty,
That neither can be hidden for long.

And through the march that goes with constant grace-
Never stopping,
Never looking back,
But to something altered. 
Having lost some coloured-piece

That once strung together part of a story,
But now they've heard her loss
In many a reconstructed song.

And the visitors sing along
To the tune-

That time's measured out portions
Both bitter and sweet.
And she is generous to some,

But to others untrue.

And often she shakes off her peasant-garb
And flies beyond the coast of her home.

Where she’s gone to cross the Atlantic,
Or to the Continent to learn French,
Leaving behind a village 
She'll never return to.


Details | Free verse | |

Winter Beach

After the rain, 
the speckled glint of shimmering sand
is now muddy brown.
Like a blind, closed tight on the warmth of summer,
the winter beach has shrunken in,
changing the colours of my day into
a darker palette, shades of grey.
The sun shriveled
pale faced and worn
as the cold season begins.

Seagulls a beacon
against a slate November sky
their sound, comfort to a lonely beach.
The steps down to the water, pea green,
slimy weed on stone
bright against an ink-rippled tide.

Seaweed colours bleed into my mind while
textures playfully mingle.
The salt air stings my nostrils
caresses my lungs with wellness.
Sea sounds carry from the shores of Wales
as I crunch the length of the ebbing milk tide.

I look to the horizon and imagine another me
walking a beach somewhere over there,
listening to my thoughts, 
as they channel the sea
Grateful for this beauty, the gift of the nature
I look over my shoulder, my footprints remain
solid, as in a freshly cemented path
their sound, echoes in the shells.


Details | Free verse | |

The Curse of the Pharaoh's

Neglected and forlorn
like the parent uncared for 
left to the ravages of time
the great pyramids of Khuf
Khafre and Menaura sit.
The city about them spewing
the gases of man into the once
pristine desert and sky.
Hydrocarbons and lead turn
the atmosphere a shade of ochre
tinged with rust, 
and the haze through which
the marvels of the ages are seen
is all that maintains the fantasy.

Centuries pass 
as the life in and out of Cairo Egypt
leeches off the glory of the past.
Architecture, art, gold and silver
that flowed from the mines
like water from the font of Eden
oil the skies and pump the heart
of a nation.

The Golden Age fell,
fell with the onslaught of the Romans
and Christianity…
leaving a people to live
on the corpses of Pharaoh’s

http://www.arabworldbooks.com/articles1.html


Details | Free verse | |

What Am I-Niagara-w

I am the Antiope of Canada, Amazonian, but not breast less, Snowy bosom like virginal gems, Swelling lips moderately full, Savoury odor felt all around, Crystalline throat striking the eyes. Meandering, churning, darting, dashing, Transformed from blonde to brunette. Here alluring, benign, attenuated, There corpulent, colossal, capering, Practicing calisthenics all the time. Raquel Welch in ‘One Million Years B.C.’ Wily Cleopatra, the Scythian of Ordzhonikidze, Carnal Marilyn, matured Helen of Troy, Venus in Aries, Mars in Pisces. Broad bellied, middle-aged, deep, Now bulging belle of Detroit, Encircling the wooing Windsor, Yet the Blithe spirit of Pelee Island.
============================== March 15, 2014 Dr. Ram Mehta Form: Free Verse Eighth Place Win Contest What Am I by PD I have used: Personification,Alliteration, Hyperbole, simile, metaphor and synecdoche :


Details | Free verse | |

My Handsome King

My Handsome King
Your royal palms gently wave
 at me each time I see you,
I have to blush 
each time they do.
 
Your sugar white beaches moan
 for my feet to greet 
them each time we meet.
My feet move to the beat 
of salsa when they
 remember you.
 
Your gentle breezes caress my 
hour glass hips each
 time I run to you.
They rock me like a baby
 when I sail over 
your bright 
blue waters.
 
Your bright moonbeams create 
a halo around my head 
as I shake my long golden
 hair to say hello to you. 
They dance around like a drunken
 gypsy with the sparkly stars
 up above as I take my
 midnight stroll with you.
 
Your regal art deco
 buildings of pastel
stand at attention, 
every time I dream 
of your streets of gold.

Your sun's rays of warm
 glory tickle my 
bare breasts gently 
as I rest my body on the
 safety of your 
heavenly sands.
 
I humbly bow my 
head to you with honor,
for your sweet 
whispers of hospitality
have overtaken me, 
my Majestic King
 of the South Beaches. 
Miami, you are my 
handsome, winter friend.


Details | Free verse | |

Of Africa

in the distance 
upon the wind 
are heard cries 
left unanswered 
against a backdrop 
of riotous color 
shimmering in emerald 
of pale eyes 

blinded to the black 
upon the soil 
treading on emotion 
and dreams 
held in the dark 
recesses 
where cream never looks 

they lay upon the white 
sheets to wrap tender souls 
as children remain lost 
parents forgotten 
interned under 
unmarked graves 
except for tears 
falling silently

I stare into Africa 
into a past 
that seems unmoved 
by the future 
stuck between equalities 
that are lopsided 
and diseases 
that shadow the poor 
like an anxious undertaker 

while I sit and sip 
lemonade in tall glasses 
in the shade of a tree 
not really my own 
but claimed for my 
protection 
wrapped in cooling veils 
that shield my eyes 
from the harsh realities 
and cover my guilt with silk 
easing my conscience

I stare out of Africa now 
to a world of ignorance 
for I am not alone 
not the only blinded person 
that chose to be that way 
as the cries crawl 
across the land 
and dead animals 
line the roads 
leading to human graveyards 
where the gates 
are always swinging open 
to welcome the natives home

I stare past Africa now 
and wonder in sadness 
will she survive all we have done 
of even survive all we haven't done 
as the blinders fall away 
and I uncover my ears 
the pain and cries reach me
conveying the answer

no, she will not survive us 
for not enough of us 

truly care...







Details | Free verse | |

The Chocolate Hills of Bohol

The Chocolate Hills of Bohol
Ancient as creation, true natural wonders, The Chocolate Hills of Bohol Teem with exotic one-of-a-kind flora and fauna, Fanciful ferns and big-eyed tarsiers, peculiar primates. Abundant rain wonderfully adorns them With a mantle of verdant fashion; While drought unveils their beautiful brown cloaks, Resembling giant delicious chocolate kisses, Or sun-baked peanut butter cookies. Subdued at dawn, splattered with shades of grey and blue, They’re showy at dusk with startling red and orange hues.
The Chocolate Hills serenely slumber, Heavy eyelids closed in peaceful repose, They’re fast asleep and deeply daydreaming, Perhaps, of one day becoming rugged rocky mountains. Finger to lips – shhh – let sleeping hills lie! Hands cover ears - these conical mounds are certainly clever At keeping hidden secrets. Silent observers, they echo no tales, But hold on to footprints in the limestone soil, Discretely recording every visitor, Not forgetting anything - remembering all.
8-24-2014


Details | Free verse | |

Spy versus spy versus spy

If looks and money are what your about
your not getting very far with me
If you believe we use sattelites in space to watch television
you have to be kidding me

One happy victom
center of attention of the brand new dance
teaching his mentors the set up
and allowing them to practice
unbeknownst to the hardcore satanists
we have been watching them all along
practicing our own genre of miracle play
and plotting to trump the hole in their plot

Now they believe in magic
as the media strings them along
i am soo easy to get to
since i am the blind leading the blind
practicing the perfect act
to get away with the perfect crime
this is the leash around your neck
and suddenly it has become mine

Center stage of a plot
where they carry out the joke of me
never understanding my subtle warnings
never fully knowing
there is a hole in the plan
for the world does not revolve around you
and your twisted desires
we did what was right
and will continue to fight fire with fire
Act 1 scene 1 practice makes perfect
act 1 scene 2 an act of our own
act 1 scene 3 deadlocked and now you know

The life around me, fitting me like a glove
a practiced routine
waiting to be noticed so we can play our trump
Spy versus spy versus spy
and in the middle the blind leading the blind
the story of a century you cant afford not to pay attention to
but miss out on it all the time

We told you it was a group effort
to do your bidding mr. powerful renegade
this choke chain around my neck should remind you something
something we have in common
but you didn't know i was refraining from pulling the chain
it's getting harder to breath this unbreathable air
it's getting more difficult to handle the constant lies and drama
I will be fine
just pull this chain
choke you back
we will switch shoes
and welcome to my cult classic

Spy versus spy versus spy
soo many people playing yet too many oblivious for their own good
i could keep this up for your best interest
but thats not suiting me anymore
so we watch you practice your routine
wait for the hole in your plan
and prove it
we are deadlocked
deadlocked
no way out for all involved
I step to the side
you get whats coming to you
i get to move on


Details | Free verse | |

A Poem for her Majesty the Queen on her Jubilee


To be English above all is not just a given, from the beginnings of time to the new world position.

It is of bravery and honour that has built the empire we know, that no matter what we may face no matter how big the enemy or challenge we will not quiver we shall not shudder nor walk away, our upper lip will remain stiff and the lions heart our enemy will feel in protection of Queen and country.

In a world of corruption and deceit, floundering morals as sources try to wash them away, inside this mayhem will always lay a loyal army to her Majesty and country that will fight tooth and nail to protect.
No matter the hatred or non believers we shall not fall. 

The most powerful family in the world that has ruled through generations of change and is echoed through the story of time this is my promise to you your Majesty we will always be here waiting on your every word to follow and serve as your loyal army. 

May GOD save the Queen and protect her people through time,
For we are ENGLAND . .  full of love . . . full of Pride! 


Details | Free verse | |

Louisiana

Heading east, after Arizona,
through New Mexico and
past the wide Lone Star state,
greens shade from dull to bright --
the desert was pale pastels
and heat devoid of moisture.
Here, humid bayou flora flourish
in black and steamy soil
where hurricanes hit the coast,
winds flatten sugar cane,
and two rich-brown nutrias
cross a placid canal.
Their wakes, on the still surface,
are clean, and nearly perfect,
inverted V's.


Details | Free verse | |

We Visitors

Dogs bark
as we are strangers on this block
the night
is not used to intruders like us
the crickets
don't even trust our footsteps

just past eleven
and the windows have eyes
curious
of our unfamiliar presence

and I can't hardly blame them

we don't spell trouble
but the cicadas 
and their fellow creature's trust
has worn thin

a dark cat 
(I'm betting is black)
is tiptoeing this way
he's been sent to take a closer look
the watchman of their darkness
whose intentions are
that we might possibly see him
and feel the need to go away

but the night is a puppy
and we're not going anywhere
it will take a much bigger spook
than a (black?) feline
to scare us away

we've got tiger's blood
and the dogs
cats 
crickets
cicadas 
creatures
and neighbors
all know it
we called their bluff

and it's getting late 
for them
but its damn early 
for us

grab me something cold to drink
it's going to be a long night alright!



Details | Free verse | |

Church of Blue Tides

"A place to drink with my ears....and listen with my eyes" ~ Wrapped in fog, like a dream, she has weathered the seasons… On the wind swept shelf, silently sleeping Where secrets in a graveyard, are hers for the keeping Looking out at the tide, where the white gulls are sweeping In her moldering courtyard, I linger awhile Among ancient arches of an old Spanish style Names locked in history, many stories are revealed Etched in the headstones, where angels have dwelled The cracked marble fountain once shimmered so fair Above the church doorway, vines are withering, bare Aloft from the steeple, are the four watchful eyes Looking out to the sea, and the deep crimson tide Three vestige bells dangle in the loft overhead Their voices are quiet, with silent prayers that were said Soft hymns sung by doves, fill the rafters, instead From the crumbling ruins, of bricks so humbly laid There are shadows of the saints...and moss covered jade A weeping old willow, with leaves crackling and dry I drink with my ears, and listen with my eyes Of all those who prayed, for those who passed by I can hear ancient echoes, and the tolling of the bells Making sense of the senseless, I can hear what it tells Giving voice to my feelings, and new hope to my eyes A peace in my heart, where the holy grail lies Are heard in the voice, of this Church of Blue Tides
~ Inspired By Constance La France's Contest: "Church By The Ocean" By Carrie Richards 9/29/11


Details | Free verse | |

BORACAY

                              White-sugary sand
                 Desirable beaches that surround
                              Sunrise at its prime
       Sunset's a beautiful scenery of love and freedom

                             A place to unwind
                        Greets you with a smile
  Travel, lifestyle, entertainment - name it and you'll find
           Sailing, diving, surfing and island hopping
           Gift shops, souvenirs, boutiques at D'Mall
                   Bars and restaurants to party
                  Bands, acoustic, music inviting
                    Night life's lively until dawn
                 Fire-dancing is the main show

                 Massage, foot-spa, facial service
                  Massage stations on the beach
    Or sit-back and relax for a private hotel offering

                                    Skin-art?
                     Henna-tattoos everywhere
                Though the drawings temporary
             The joy and experience are long-lasting

                  Nature-trippers will say, "WOW"
                  A splendid appearance waiting
 Volcanic caves, mangrove forest, coconut trees - so green
                And if you're up to burn your skin
                  The sun is set for sun bathing

                              An island tropical
                            In a region far-away
                            A land of promises
                            For vacation's best
                            Happiness, certain
                           Countless memories
               With people welcoming and friendly
                     In an island called, "BORACAY"
                            A paradise to keep.


Details | Free verse | |

The Situation

The lovely fog
roared through the rain forest.

Smearing blind velvet eyes
in the tropical season.

Bliss crust showering 
the ungraceful carpet of decaying leaves.

Animals scattered 
W I L D
like cions in a purse.

Evil prowling 
through the terrified animals. 

Domination felt
through the large kings
of the jungle.

Middle class mammals meander about
their senses heightened for murderous creatures
that stalk on the dark forest floor.




Details | Free verse | |

Dreadful Fairytale

Dreadful Fairytale

Stay away from the paint.
You’ll kill yourself on the swing.
The green VW cannot contain all of you.
Change into something more modest.
Sequined slippers sparkle gauche.

It is the pink and kerneled 
lures me under the tent of
impossibility.  I do not fathom
aviaries of peakcocked humans 
reaching for a canvassed sky.

Danger lurks behind the
masks of frantic made up clowns. 
Large red lips and big flat feet
horrify me amidst others
sidesplitting crazu glee.

I am with the hawkers’
cotton candy, cracker jacks
until the ring is darkened
and I leave this pit of panic.
All to pay is a stomachache
much too very real.

Kathryn McLoughlin Collins
May 12, 2012


For David Williams Circus contest. 


Details | Free verse | |

Shameless Self-Promotion

Here they go again.
anything to win,
indulging
in shameless 
self-promotion.
layin’ it on thick, 
	makin’ sure it sticks,
		slappin’ it on like lotion.

“click my stuff,
and I’ll click yours too.
wanna feel like the best 
even though 
it ain’t true?”

back n’ forth complements
are so self defeating.
inflating other’s heads for praise 
is a blatant way
of cheating.

“do unto others”
but don’t lie, 
to boost their ego.
misleading them 
to raise their hopes 
should clearly be illegal.

no need to read 
a word
of their work
while scratching their backs 
bare.
skimmin’ 
	skippin’ 
		scannin’…
all’s fair
in tactical 
warfare.

poets thought to be adored 
while chewin’ truth’s gristle.
before you swallow,
broke a tooth that hurt
like a damn 
lit 
missile. 

feeding on lines 
with hidden agendas 
is worse
than bein’ ignored.
cuz’ when you find 
copy n’ pasted comments, 
your hopes 
are sadly floored.

how about 
reading and endorsing work
you actually enjoy,
instead of 
feedin’ folks a line of crap 
laced with praise 
and “atta-boys!”


Details | Free verse | |

An Angel

An angel did befriend us, on earth, before one Christmas day.
Some say she was a comet, some say she was a star.
I say she was a gift from God, here to light our way.
She was a thing of beauty that shone across the land.
Leading to a humble manger, found in Bethlehem.

And what could be so important, for her to come our way?
A savior to our lands, and yes, our hearts and souls…
Triumphantly born on Christmas Day.
That day he was born the heavens truly did rejoice.
And she, a glorious light, continued to beacon forth God’s love.

Such an important part, that angel was given on that day.
She was a beacon to our hearts and the gifts of love… 
Guiding the Wise Men and shepherds endlessly along their way.
Thru her we learned lessons, such as: patience, hope, and how to give…
And yes, she led us to the Wondrous Man, who taught us how to live…


Details | Free verse | |

Heart Of The City

Along the curb, brownstones stand silently Once proud facades diminished by time Peeling sashes peer from weathered faces Granite steps bowed neath the tread of generations Where once a family lived now dwell many Colors collide, cultures blend, new tomorrows bloom United in a dream of new horizons Believing in the promise of our land Signs and billboards vie for our attention Calling to the minions as they pass Designed to take possession of our eye Bold attempts to influence the mind Aromas from the street invade the senses Vendors with their carts, hock their wares Shops, aligned in rows, seduce the buyer Everywhere, a sea of yellow vans The city, without pretense, stands before you Behind it's arrogance, a softer side abides Daring you to listen to it's heart Embracing you until it owns your soul New York City Any Morning


Details | Free verse | |

This City Inspires Me

The Chicago skyline.
You symbolize home.
You are me and I am you.

There you are Sears Tower!
Just like you I will stand tall and strong
Even through life's toughest winds,
I might sway back and forth,
But to the ground which I was built on, 
I'll remain.
Even when people try to change my name, 
I'll just reply "Watchya talkin bout Willis?!" 
Yeah, you'll always be Sears to me.
And I'll always be Joe to you. 

Thank You Chicago.

I promise I will get as fast as 
The trains and planes that transport your people
And when I get caught up in life's traffic,
I promise to keep my cool and my destination in mind.
I promise to get as strong as your culture is.
I promise to always be filled with as much vigor as 
Your raging college students are.
I promise to stay as passionate as
The struggling musicians that serenade your "L" subways are.
I promise I will work as hard as 
Your workers that are just trying to pay their bills do.
I promise I'll always stay as hungry 
As the poor that beg on your streets are.

And I promise I'll make you proud of me.
For I am proud of you!
Chicago, don't you know? 
You will always put the "O" in Joe.



Details | Free verse | |

Serenity Beach

Mystic beauty of the sky,
high above the eagle cries.
Tranquil sands beneath my feet,
reminding me of nature's peace.
Blending beauty all in one,
with silent moments under the sun. 
The silence of Serenity Beach,
and calmness of the open sea,
whispers from the solem breeze.
Breathing in the salty air,
the wind brushes through my hair.
With tranquil moments under the sun,
soon this day is over and done.
Waves in tune with melodies,
and peacefulness surrounding me.


Details | Free verse | |

Samuel, Time Hates Us

Did you know time can slip by 
when we're not having fun?
Samuel, it hasn't been fun
These days that we've spent, 
it's felt like hours
And remember when you came 
to the door with flowers?
But time, Samuel-
it's never odd or even
Samuel, time hates us
We don't even have a moment 
that's just ours
Yet, chance made us friends
Sitting in Niagara, staring at the lights
Honestly, you and me, we could be free
And yet we're imprisoned
Steadily being caged in by time
We were from the beginning, 
we were from the start
Time hates us, dislikes us, 
loathes us, despises us
We're the eyes of it's storm
And yet I can tell in your eyes that you're happy
That even with a car running on empty
and not living a life we had envisioned,
We've made a world that stretches far
 


Details | Free verse | |

ReEarth

These times are near their totality
It is not because of man’s impudence
It is not of man’s desire for change
It is just time, and time…
For the will of time’s maker
 
A time for newness
An epoch for a re-Earth
Time for reconciliation
An era of restoration of Eden
Time for oneness of purpose 
 
Time for a new world system 
And a new social order 
A Time according to His promise
And In this Time, 
Uprightness is to reside
 
...and
Mourning dew’s teardrops will dry
...and 
Floras shattered spines will straighten
...and
Our mental tempests will dissipate
...and
The arid regions of our hearts will bloom
 
I hope to see you there...


Details | Free verse | |

Concrete Jungle

So many millions of staring eyes
Vacant of souls to light the skies
All the noise! So much noise!
One can't hear thy inner voice
People shoving in a hurry
Upon their faces a look of worry
Rushing here and rushing there
Stopping not long enough to care
Such a mess all strewn with trash
Scurry. Scurry to get that cash
Out the window throw their cans
With no future thought for fellow man
Lungs aching from all the pollution
Yearning thoughts with no solution,
Came and saw. I stand alone
As to my place I call my home

Copyright © by Scarlett Anderson
Written 1/29/2010


Details | Free verse | |

Sekhmet ---Evil Goddess of Egypt

Listen to the sound of a terrible roar
Gnashing of teeth, a rending of flesh,
Singed is the desert, with the dust of her breath
Seeking revenge, with arrow flamed death

She is a warrior goddess, even mountains have cowered 
Daughter of Ra, spewing lightning storm fires
Thunder and clouds, are crowning her head
Mistress of dread, brings on trembling slaughter

With the body of woman, she wades through the waters
Her head is of the lion, with devil in eyes
Eyes of a diamond, where a demon resides
Claws and sharp teeth, sits among Satan's brides
Death and destruction, are the things that will please her
The joy of the kill, is what birth has conceived for

Stalking the land, she is the warrior of sands
Lost in the wrath of her furious path
Egypt remembers, and quakes in the rubbles
Her breasts small rosettes, ruthless whims of her wiles

Intoxicated she is, by the lust of her dread
Dressed in the red, of the blood of the Nile
................................................................................................................................


Details | Free verse | |

Coffee Shop

Bustling people and clinking forks
A crowded maze of tables and chairs
The soft conversations meant to be secret
Rise to a horrible din of mingling words and phrases

The smell of stale coffee beans and perfume
Caress my nose with a familiar touch
The morning shines outside the huge windows
Burning brightly, it washes out the crowd

People become shadows in the insane light
The breaking dawn ruins their features
I set alone in this madness of Sun-fire
My senses raped by terrible sights and sound

They fuel my desire to be ...

The smell of unwashed skin and vodka
Drifts in on a fugitive breeze
The rattle of a beggar's cup points to its source
Its owner's suffering passes silently amongst the crowd

An old man sits with his paper in hand
A daytime hooker enjoys her hazelnut creamer
A well-dressed woman curses her cellphone and spills her latte
A child grips her legs and she curses him as well

In a dream
Sepia tones and friendly faces
In a nightmare
Shadow beasts and hungry eyes

They fuel my desire to be ...

My pen begins to glide along the rough paper
A few words, hard pressed, appear like forgotten children
Suddenly their voices are not so loud
My eyes begin to focus only on the paper

A beautiful thing begins to form
An ornament to the chaos around me
I find a wonderful peace
And the words flow gently and with ease

The shadow beings float around me
Trying to disturb my bubble of genesis
There sounds cannot stop me, I do not fear them
These hateful beasts are helping me so

They fuel my desire to be ...


Details | Free verse | |

Empty Apartment

No more icy showers,
No rats, no roaches,
I’ll never trek reluctantly,
Up your five flights again.

No more neighbors’ yelling,
No slumlords, no supers,
No longer will I freeze,
In your dark bitter space.

Though I’m cautious and weary,
Of the next empty apartment,
I’ll never look back,
Once I step out of your door.

No, no, don’t you worry,
There will always be another,
To suffer inside the hell,
Of your suffocating walls.

Where you will try to break them,
Confine and oppress them,
Until they are empty,
Just like you. Just like me.

*For Matt Caliri's "Empty Apartment" Contest


Details | Free verse | |

Human nature - reserved

Nature tamed, organised, tidied and serving
Consummately sanitised for human consumption
Nature bent unnaturally to suit the human nature
Every pretty maid and ducks…in a row
 
Florid facilities for townsfolk to fantasise 
Looking without seeing, treading without looking
Stepping upon the very thing that they seek
Nature expertly hidden to create rustic bliss

The gravel path isolates shoe from dirt to avert mess
A discreet suggestion to look but don’t touch
Controlled decay, stage managed for impact and effect
Nature has been preserved…in a human natured sort of way


Details | Free verse | |

My strange Village

I live in a very small very old village
In England where everyone knows your name
But what makes the place rather odd
Is the locals who are very strange.

There's Gina the window cleaner
Her bum the size of mar's
And Lady Quinn
Who drives like a mad lady
In her Bentley car
There's old Doctor Mckenna
Who always complains that he's ill
And young pregnant sally who forgot 
To take the pill (again)
Farmer Giles and his sheep
Tom the butcher boy who walks around naked 
In his sleep
Norris and Horace
the identical twins
And gambling Fred who backs the horses
and never wins
Old Nelly at the post office
And Nora who has the local shop
And P.C plod the nervous local cop.

They all get together on a Friday night
In the local pub and get merry and gossip
For it's the communities hub
Many tales have been told
About a Headless horseman
hereabouts who rides through the village
around midnight when the lights go out.

Headless horseman?
It makes no sense to me
Because if he was riding a horse
How the hell would he see.

Every year we have the village fete
and people from all around cue up at the gate
we used to have a morris dance
But morris can't dance no more
Because Morris hung up his clogs
When his feet got very sore
There's Mollies stall of home preserves
And paddy and his performing fleas
That leaves everyone scratching
And heading for the trees.

The old church stands on top of the hill
and long after the bells have rung
Your ears are ringing still
When anyone does something wrong
they have to face the old ducking pond
I've been ducked a time or two
And got completely wet through.

It's claimed Robin Hood
Met maid Marion in our local wood
Bet they were up to no good
And his merry men got really merry 
Down at the local pub.

If you ever visit us at our village
Hogs bottom's end
We might be a bit strange but we'll greet you like a friend
But be wary
Many a visitor never leave
And meet a grizzly end, ha ha ha haaaaaa.



Peter Dome.copyright.2014. July.


Details | Free verse | |

KOOKABURRAS

Kookaburras
are found in Australia,
they are not pretty birds
with a lovely call,
but racous enough
to mistake it 
for laughter, or even screams of amusement.


Kookaburras
love to ride kangaroos,
and sometimes
they hang on their tails,
so they make them run faster than tigers...
to scare the Tasmanian wolves away
resting on sun-dried hummocks of fresh excavations.


Kookaburras 
scorn puling children,
the ones who are spoiled
enough to get what they want
by not eating pumpernickel,
but demand white bread...
watch the hungry kookaburras devour everything!


Details | Free verse | |

Street Cred

Houses on parade
Guards to civilisation
A great divide between man and space
Escapism opposed to reality

Sentinals stand at either end of street
Neighbourhood watch
Dangerous tongues gossip
Prepare for another enslaught


Details | Free verse | |

The Aquarium

each one
a diamond in a jeweler's box
a planet unto itself
the seahorse planet
the clown fish kingdom
the eels hideaway

the deep
features a godiva
box of chocolates

it was 
hilarious the way
they go on invisible highways
a community of barbers
doctors, hairdressers, cops
and children at play


Details | Free verse | |

fly me to belgium

fly me to belgium 
for i want to meet the queen
and get a glimpse of 
the man who is the reigning king

fly me  to belgium 
for the festivals and things
i'd run with the hip
and ageless in the cool streets

fly me to belgium
for i want to  see dinant
hear those saxophones
and get lost in all that jazz






Details | Free verse | |

A new Ireland

It was a wet November day
on the motorway to Cork
waiting at traffic lights
a tiny man shuffled towards me
frail, bald and alone,
his piercing eyes beseeching,
palms outstretched, imploring.
His face ravaged with fear
his shame stirred shame in me
as I turned my face away,
I saw others do the same.

I felt raw discomfort 
it changed rapidly to fear
as the cold face of recession
the demise of my country
the pain of my people
stood before me
in this little man
an ache so immense,
I had covered it deep.

Faced now with utter revulsion,
abject anger towards our government,
our bankers and developers,
those sneaky golden circles,
as my eyes met his,
I saw my own reflection.
The country’s bubble burst a year ago
but he had just burst mine.

For In his tiny frame,
I saw our fragile nation
a country on its knees
begging for a bail out.

In his isolation,
I felt my own vulnerability
huge impending loss
as my children face emigration.

In his baldness, 
I saw the naked masses
new poverty and pain,
still crushing us, the people

This little man
could be me.






Details | Free verse | |

The Edge of Bavaria

The motion:
The breeze through the window and my wandering thoughts.
This jagged ink provokes beauty-recognized,
Unwavering and clairvoyant and I mean this:

This train makes sounds that help me breathe.
This life makes purpose through bending, countless futures.

Here I found at the edge of Bavaria
And into the endless blessed rolling of river and hill:
God and a dream.


Details | Free verse | |

Lilies

There was a time when we picked those lilies. 
You don’t quite remember when, but I surely do.
The mid-summer sun kept the fields warm,
And caressed the phlox as it slow-danced to the breeze.
And the light held on to our eyelashes
As if it needed them, pleaded for their existence,
Like a child with the eyes of a butcher
And the smile of a poet,
In need of shelter
And love
And attention. 
We danced to that Indian summer-
Little did we know that it was our last.
And our laughter, filling the heavens,
With our present and our past
Echoed throughout.
Seeping, consuming, lingering,
Echoing even louder at the touch of our hands.
Little did I know that life would grab you away,
Borrow you for a dance and
Never give you back.
Little did I know that this purple phlox-
Where lively things flourished to our company
Would crack and break
Like a twig fooled by the storm.
And now all that remains of you and I
And our dreams, lives, past, future, beginning, end,
Ambitions, and existence
Is this place –
So bittersweet 
Grotesque yet beautiful
Captivating
An ant stuck in Baltic amber
Worn in a necklace around my chest
Where my heart is a cave
And it’s cold and it’s dark.
And there’s nothing left but these lilies 
Which laugh and dance to the breeze. 


Details | Free verse | |

I am a single click

I 
am a photographer  
I take stories of people
their lives
their hardships
their joy 
with a single click  
A solitary second in their life
now
forever immortalized  
Captured to share with others 
to show them the lives of people 
who are just like us 
who love 
who laugh 
who cry
but most of all 
who long for a chance at a better life 
a chance 
for their children 
As a photographer
if I am given the chance to help change the world
one click at a time 
If I have to get down 
in the mud
in the filth
to experience the lives of these people 
in order to bring back the emotion 
in a single frozen second 
A second that will wake people up 
make them care 
make them angry 
make them cry 
at what they see
at the atrocities
at the suffering that is going on in the world 
If I can get them riled up enough to want to help 
to want to become involved
If I am given the chance to capture photos of this world 
to bring them to the people 
who are sitting in their overstuffed easy chairs 
so that these people 
might feel 
might act
Then the chance is worth it 
and this is an opportunity that will not be wasted
I have traveled this world
walked it's roads
seen the best and worst of men
I have looked into eyes hungry and cold 
eyes with pain
eyes of hate 
and those eyes looked right back into mine 
From little girl prostitutes in Hyderabad India 
to landmine littered fields in Cambodia 
where people live with missing limbs
to the tent cities of Haiti
across the waters 
to the children of the Inca in Peru
I have seen suffering 
and pain 
and grief 
that doesn’t need to exist 
I have listened
as they tell their stories 
as they look with hope 
when I shoot photos of what’s left of their lives 
and all the while
I am wondering 
who am I
that they should have hope 
in me


Details | Free verse | |

A Traveler's Journey (A Visit to the Quarai Mission Ruins)

I am a traveler 
In a place beyond time
I speak the language of stone
And adobe,
Listen to the echoes of history
In roofless, melted walls

This is my journey

I am a traveler, 
An earthbound melting misfit
Whispering in the language
Of leaves and lizards,
Of rustling cottonwood leaves,
Taking pictures with my mind

This
Is my journey

I am a traveler
Just passing through
On my way to somewhere,
Always on my way – on my way to
Else-where, to else-when, to else-wise
Even so, I tarry here

This is
My journey

I am a traveler, 
A stranger from
Time beyond
To long ago 
In this ghost-filled home
Of peace and contravening conflict

This is my
Journey 

I am a traveler
Who sits cross-legged on the earth,
Alone with the ancients
Alone amongst shadows and sunshine,
Silence and grace
My heart and soul cry out in echo

This is my journey


Details | Free verse | |

There Is No Now

The pollution is psychedelic
Hell, you could even say poetic nature
Terms of enragement
Definitely not engagement
Can suffice in describing the depredation

Fire from the skies
Burning through the system
Dropping through to nothing
Learning not what’s in them
Always running from them

We may hide our voices
But you hide your souls
Torturing us with woes
Never able to feed our hole
Scars bleed out like coals

Paint it any color you like
Doesn’t change a thing
This war that you’ve brought forth 
Has killed us all
In the past and future

There is no now…


Details | Free verse | |

Within the far off landscapes of a dream

Within the the far off landscapes of a woven dream
where the mind crosses the void of rationality
into surreality
and the imagination flows
bends and winds like a mountain stream
that we sail and journey upon
through the curtain of the unconscious
to release our deepest hopes and desires
that transpire
drawn from the rich tapestry of life.

Peter Dome.copyright.2012.


Details | Free verse | |

Storms in Life

Quiet is the ocean and then erupts a hurricane
So much devestation and people crying out in pain
Serene are the drops of rain that turn into a storm
A journey through the cold snow with no place to keep warm
A day will come when all shall pass and souls will be at rest
A desert storm of sweeping sands it seems that life is just a test
Deliverance will come at last just follow the brightest light
And on earth the storm will end and life begins a new flight


Details | Free verse | |

Survival Of The Fittest

Dropped out of school
At an early age
Lived on the streets 
Because, I disgusted my mother
She thought I was a poor example
Of true Christian beliefs
At an early age 
She religiously drummed into me
‘blood is thicker than water’
And yet, 
Here I am today confused, lonely and hungry
No one protecting me
No friends
No family
No home to go too
Just, peoples eye for an eye,
tooth for a tooth mentality
Praying for the sun to shine
To feel some warmth again!
Sun rays of hope, lighting me up
To live through this darkness without fear
With a heart full of faith
No matter what happens to me, now!
If only I could drink my salty tears
It would sustain me for a lifetime
Your tears are worth nothing, around here
You’re classed as weak and venerable
Only attracting death
Your life worth nothing!
Save me from myself
I am my best friend
I am my worst enemy
My prayers and dreams
Lost in the wind
Blowing around like autumn leaves
The rain washing them away
Down the drain into the sewage
Rolling with the seasons
Year after year
Survival for the fittest!
Surviving on the love
Hidden, inside me
Being my strength and guide
My personal lifeline
In surviving this crazy world 
We all live in


Details | Free verse | |

Romley Station - Alexandria, Egypt

I watched two people sitting side by side In an old Parisian style café Eating croissants, sipping cappuccino and sharing Glimpses of the past, present and future With one another. So completely mesmerized with their deep - space eyes, The thought of me, anyone or anything else Could not have been more than a fleeting speck Of sand across the corridors of their timeless time. Such is the mutual attraction of those in love, No less than the allurement of Planets, stars and galaxies Swirling all around and high above. Ultimately causing me To stop and wonder how Long, this ethereal dance of cosmology and biology Has been in motion. While it’s nothing but a notion concerning coffee shop masquerades, These lovers left me stirring A fresh cup of curiosity Along with my latte’.


Details | Free verse | |

Pizza

Thin, hand tossed, or pan.
Pepperoni pizza?
Join me if you can.
Dine-in, buffet, or on the run,
pizza for lunch is so much fun.
Taco pizza will hit the spot.
This pizza kitchen sure is hot!
Yes, dessert pizza made just right.
Chocolate chip pizza is such a delight.
Extra meat and light on the sauce.
Join me for pizza at a low cost.
On a diet?
That's okay.
Veggie pizza fixed your way.
Some like it hot and some like it cold,
but I like mine spicy and bold.
Order to go or dine with grace.
Join me at the pizza place.


Details | Free verse | |

Inside Out in the Blue Waters

Take me to Crete,
or take me to Rhodes
Please Mediterranean 
me in my soul
Salt me in waters
which lapped at the feet
of every sentinel
army's defeat
Blue me in atmospheres
sun up my core
Forgetting me there
makes me just want it more
Take me to Rhodes,
or take me to Crete
Please Mediterranean
me to complete...


Details | Free verse | |

London

The big smoke had always been around
Its fingers the veins running through our wrists
Bluer and firmer as we pranced across the stage like Gods

Its voice this summer was sweeter than honey
And we could resist no longer

A train
Four hours and we had escaped this place's grey-green discolouration

The sun held London as though it were his child
His heart warmed our cheeks and twinkled in the river
But stars shone in the sequins 
Of the queens at the palace
Theatre

Perched, ready to laugh or cry or dance
Nestled like chicks in the velvet seats
We were home.


Details | Free verse | |

Ocean Oasis

I walk upon
Tiny golden pebbles of warmth
forcing me to dance
to meet the sparkling
waves of diamonds
the cool crisp water
envelopes me, as a
child in mother earth 
womb
I float, for a moment
the world, and I
are one
A wave, like Goliath
comes crashing
down above me
breaking into a million miniature 
bubbles, that tickle
my bare flesh
quickly disappearing, as
fast as they greeted me
feeling like a small marine creature
in Gods vast aquarium
the sun, a spotlight shine
hits my face, beneath the depths
and I follow the trail of light
to my first breath above surface
beautiful pain 
as the waited sound
from a newborn child


Details | Free verse | |

Within That Special Moment

I love to peruse family vacation photos, 
while enjoying a very distinctive cookie
and a tasty cup of, 
french vanilla latte.

Sometimes, you just have to
return to that vacation 
and enjoy the trip, all over again.

Great memories savored,
along with, something sweet;
oh, how it takes the edge off,
of a hard week.

Within that special memory moment; 
the soul begins to sing.


Details | Free verse | |

I Found Happiness

I found happiness,
In places I never thought I'd find it
Like looking through your eyes
On a moonlit night
And watching them twinkle in my sight
I found happiness,
In places I never thought I'd find it,
Like when I'm singing my favorite song
And everyone is clapping along
The moral support I needed
I found happiness,
In places I never thought I'd find it
Like finding that ring you lost months ago
And you'd been searching 
But you found it in a place you looked before
I found happiness,
In places I never thought I'd find it
Like when you're saying I love you
And I fall within your arms
Feeling warm inside
I found happiness in you...


Details | Free verse | |

Roads Leading Nowhere

The mass of men lead lives of quite desperation, -1
Seeking false shelter, forming insignificant nations,
Seeking organization in a world of disorder,
Setting restrictions, boundaries, and boarders,

Creating obstacles from things we don't need,
Obsessed with improving power, pleasure, and speed,
Time, man-made, is used only to create pattern,
No longer a choice, freedom is shattered,

Money has become the measure of success,
While happiness is left behind as only second best,
So many busy roads, filled with clutter, built with care,
While the best roads have no beginning and end nowhere…


1- First line is from "Walden" by Ralph Waldo Emerson


Details | Free verse | |

The Garden

The night air is cool and collective,
Running through my hair and face.
Even when I’m with people, I feel alone
In this cold blooded space.

It’s like walking through a garden
Of all your favorite foods,
But none of which can substantiate
For that one so special mood…

That mood, 
that beautiful frame of mind.  
I only go there with you,
And only you can make it unwind.

I discovered a passion unlike any other
And in my finding I opened a world,
A world I did not know existed.
I’m on cloud nine every time I think of you,
Just the thought of you brings joy to my heart.

This garden holds many beautiful things
Many delightful pleasures,
Many cold nights,
Warm nights,
Difficult frights,
Ecstatic times and unsystematic times!

But they mean nothing to me,
While I’m alone…

Walk with me through this garden.


Details | Free verse | |

Room with a View

Room with a View
     by Amy Swanson   12/2008

~ Written for someone dear to me ~



She sits alone
     this quiet room
            feels so empty

echoes her quiet scream.


She barely catches 
     just a glimpse
          of one lonely tree branch

it seems to mock her;


Saying, see,
     I am alone
          but I am free

and you are not.


Why did life
     turn out this way?
            Why is it so difficult

just to live?


Hot tears fall down;
      she silently prays
            that God will somehow rescue her

from this place.


The hours go by;
     days and minutes
               all turn into months

and years -


At times it seems unbearable
      where did the time go?
              Where did life go?

joys exchanged for fears


She sighs so deep
      within her spirit
               just another day -

they are all the same.


But she is resigned
      to this hollow existence
             weary silence

in this room with a view.


Details | Free verse | |

Crying Magnolias

When my heart is caving in and I feel all alone,
I wake up in the morning so far away from home.
When my soul is crying out and I feel like I'm lost,
I'll hold my head up proud so I will pay the cost.
So life won't pass me by, I'll live while I can.
Make the best of days gone by, wish I could hold in my hands,
my magnolias crying in the rain.
Wish I could catch the drops that fall.
Instead I remain so far away from home.

When I'm crying out for life,
I'll hold my dreams I have in store.
Even though it seems I can't get my foot in the door.
And though I'll pay the price, 
because I've sacrificed.
Soon I'll return again one day,
under Louisiana blue sky,
just so I could hold my,
magnolias crying in the rain.
Wish I could catch the drops that fall,
but instead I remain far away from home.

You gave me your hand to hold.
You kept me warm when I was cold.
So when my dreams unfold,
I'll be back to hold,
my magnolias crying in the rain,
so I can catch the drops that fall,
and no longer remain,
so far away from home.


Details | Free verse | |

The Lonely Village

Every dawn meant its worth
every day showed its value
when the moon shone bright
bells tinkled by the motion of the whispery wind
children head to the safety of adobe huts
warming their little hands around the fires
tigers prowl the midnight roads
their eyes seen by fearfull villagers
luminescent eyes dancing in the dark night
calls of strange animals
sends a cold chill down your spine
babies fall asleep on the cold dirt floor
surrounded by parents, brothers, sisters
for protection
as the night comes to an end
and the sun starts to rise over the green topped mountains
wild animals leave to nap in the morning sun
children go out to relieve themselves
and find a dead goat five feet from the door
their livelihood shrinks as lionesses feed
on their wealth, their income
but such is the life
when you live with wild animals
when you encroach on their territory
you pay, little by little
a hard, struggling existence
a life shared with beautiful killers
seeing their glorious power at work
until they take your life.


Details | Free verse | |

JE PRIE, I PRAY

Arterial roads led me back home to
sidewalk cathedrals and cafés
where thick-thumbed minstels
strum guitars between smokes.

Deep in the heart of old Montreal on
cobbled lanes, a Muslim mother strokes
plump cheeks and her unveiled
gaze speaks of love universal. 

Ethereal seems this snatched day.
I stop at a neighbourhood bistro,
Read a chalk menu, order pâté chinois
before I head to the memorial.

From a stereo, the past regales 
us like a troubadour angel and 
the lonely find kind company,
while upon memories I almost choke.

Mireille’s notes linger, sweet and long,
A tune from decades ago that broke
hearts. Several conversations still,
faces turn to savor her song...

Dans le silence qui m’inonde
J’oublie la folie du jour
Je retrouve la joie du monde
Mon Coeur se remplit d’amour

Dusk doesn’t dismiss the city,
as I travel Metro’s tunnels
a couple argues across from me,
passionately, in sign language,
their rapid words are deafening.
A man with dreadlocks eats sushi,
watching each gesture, covertly.

Then I board a bus, lowly humming,
a woman with silver hair wears
a sari of forget-me-not blue,
and weeps as she reads far off news.

My stop approaches, I wrench
myself from the lull of traffic
and disembark, see the benches
that guard steel and stone markers, 
a tribute for ghosts in the park.

Names of the unjustly taken stand
fourteen strong, young women forever
forsaken, and yet as I lean against a 
tree, words I’ve heard echo in me,
I was right to view this wrong...

Et je prie que le monde                                          
Vive enfin dans l’harmonie
D’une paix douce et profonde
Alors, les temps seront benis.

Stars appear, offer simplicity,
I give thanks for my country,
Its blessings, culture, diversity, but
in a land where so many live in peace
war was waged on the sacred feminine.

I bow my head, whisper a prayer,
It weaves between the monuments...

Let us for each other care and if 
hate festers behind old church doors
or new schoolyard fences, teach us 
to love all our differences and let no man 
ever again spill the blood of a sister.

Je prie... l’harmonie...Je prie...

Song: Mireille Mathieu,click about poem! v6:in the silence that engulfs me/I forget the clamour of the day/I retrieve the joy of the world/my heart fills me with love. V10and I pray for the world/comes to live in harmony/of a peace soft & deep/then times will be blessed


Details | Free verse | |

Knowledge of the Madness

Long ago, in this white room, 
They bring me here everyday. 
All the halls and rooms are clean. 
Every night, one person disappears, 
Leaving only a few to stay. 

Tapping sounds walk down the hall, 
As the second twin continues on.
He smiles at me for a last time,
A laugh and a chainsaw echoes along, 
But ends before the clock strikes dawn. 

Soon it will be my turn to visit, 
The room where red flowers grow.
The gardener there will greet me,
With a very kind smile, 
And then look below. 

The dog in the garden eats so much, 
And he comes forth when a small, 
Lovely red sphere rolls down. 
I can’t wait for my turn to come, 
When I get to walk down the hall. 

It is me…It is me…It is me…
It is me…It is me…It is me…
It is me…It is me…It is me…
IT-


Details | Free verse | |

Wildwood New Jersey

as i sit and watch the ocean
the waves tumble along
lick the sand and drop
treasures behind...

the sky blends
beyond the horizon
everything seems as one

an advertisement 
from a plane barely heard
catches my eye

the salty spray
kisses my cheek
and mingles with tears
as my memory recalls;

i remember the long rides
that seemed like forever
the board games, the shoving
to see out the windows, the 
are we there yet from talkative lips
silenced only by the smell of ocean air

the walks down to the beach
that seemed to take forever
(but are much longer now)

the walks down the boardwalk
“watch the tram car please”
echoing behind our backs
as we tried to see through the cracks

the amusements piers, the golden nugget,
the log flume with the ocean just beneath
the lights reflected back as we laughed

it’s changed some now
the piers and rides differ
and the walk even longer
the ocean no longer beneath
reflecting lights back as it did

i go often as an adult
watch the ocean, listen to her
as my silence falls with her waves
my memories tumble along
like lost shells, i gather them
and treasure them the same...

i sit alone, wish you here
feel you near, pretend it’s the same

walk the boardwalk
from beginning to end
and back, with the tram car
echoing behind my back

i gather fudge from “Laura’s”
taffy from “James” savor the moment
as if it were the same


Details | Free verse | |

The Building With Rust-Red Resistane

White windows of painted boards,
and an exterior of rust-red resistance.
What infinite hallways dwell behind your doors?
An army of cream-clad patients,

sunken cheeks and hollowed eyes,
these are the images that come to mind,
and I feel the tension of the smoldering gaze
of the building with rust-red resistance.

A hand with no strength within,
fingers white as cod, and I ask,
“to whom is it kin?”
the building with rust-red resistance.

Like walking without meaning,
in a nightmare of frustration,
the people of the rust-red house share
no sunlight with the rest of Creation.

They, behind white windows of painted boards,
are alone in their elation.
For even while the day unfolds,
the rust-red house is theirs alone, no invasion.

The rust-red house is theirs alone, no invasion.


Details | Free verse | |

' UP, UP AND AWAY '

============================ ~*~ " FLYING WITHOUT WINGS ..." eyes were shut head in bow sitting in the rocking chair ... DUSK - murky ... vague ... nestled with woe and a twilight dew tears fell - as I sleep in my cradle's journey ~~~my CRIB of dreams now, I open my eyes, the eyes of my frolicsome mind I SPREAD my wings FLIP it as possibly as I can and vagabond over what is possible I FLEW ... SOARED ... MANOEUVRE ... and STRAYED ~~~ abscond from the immeasurable humanly problems flee from vast imperfections and life's stains and limits escape from the TRUTH that everything ends in the same END I went to nowhere and voyaged over the atmospheric umbrella of reality ~ I FLEW ... as I witnessed a new kingdom a door of spectral hues of iridescence emerged from nowhere I enter and amazed of what I see my jaws dropped and eyes in bulge pictures of gaiety visualized in clear images reflections of the HIGHEST GOOD followed enticing, alluring, enchanting no words came out this is a realm of my powerful IMAGINATION'S LIMITLESS a realm where there's perfection realm where there's love, peace and freedom realm of equality and just kingdom a new world where there is a HAPPY ENDING a world together with Cinderella,Snow White and Sleeping Beauty a world of FAIRY TALES a world sculpted by my "THIRD EYE" a world painted by my mind's "DYE". I want to live in this world~~~flew back in reality is now just a dream! ~*~ ============================================================


Details | Free verse | |

'FUTURISTIC REALM '

========================================================== ~*~ "how I wish I never wake up again in this dream ..." eyes were shut clicking my heels numb frozen can't move glitter and lustre subjugated, seized by gloom no single light to envision no single color to perceive a blind world of murky existences a world of woe, chaos and evils a world of "TODAY" now, I open my eyes, the eyes of my frolicsome mind I manoeuvre over the atmospheric umbrella of reality abscond from humanly problems and queries flee from vast imperfections and life's stains and limits afraid to lose, yet I quit, tend to be a loser can't take it any longer I spread my wings flip it as possibly as I know and vagabond over what is possible as I witnessed a new kingdom a door of spectral hues of iridescence emerged from nowhere I enter and amazed of what I see my jaws dropped and eyes in bulge pictures of gaiety visualized in clear images reflections of the HIGHEST GOOD followed enticing, alluring, enchanting no words came out this is a realm of my powerful IMAGINATION'S LIMITLESS a realm where there's perfection realm where there's love, peace and freedom realm of equality and just kingdom a new world where there is a HAPPY ENDING a world together with Cinderella,Snow White and Sleeping Beauty a world of fairy tales a world sculpted by my "THIRD EYE" a world painted by my mind's "DYE". ~~~a FUTURISTIC REALM~~~ ~*~ =========================================================== jun-jun villanueva "CLOSE YOUR EYES AND CLICK YOUR HEELS" contest


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Castaway

After Derek Walcott’s Poem

We have this in common
Sandy spit
Empty hours to walk alone

Needing to find use
For the forgotten
In the eyes of other people

Washed up
Softens all tones
To sandblasted blue glass

Eyes, drawn out toward sky
The driftwood branch has stars
Or rafts toward uncertain lands

Toward a fire pit nest
where paper cups makes castles
and feathers, a reedy sail

for those whose wings
have fluttered far and long
and settled down
on a temporary, final beach. 


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Bottoms Up

Beached the sun-bleached bottoms
of small boats color the sand scape,
safely turned bottoms-up
far from the high tide’s line.
They lay in wait beneath the teardrop rain,
huddled from the bay’s breath, they hide.
It is only the lap of languid wave that bides.



Boats Beach, Eastham Mass 2012


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December's color

If I could interpret the influence of winter
It would be blindly silent and dramatically loud
With wailing seas of white wonder- 
Feverishly blowing sideways into the night 
Crystallized droplets of frozen blue tears
Hanging dangerously waiting for that moment –
To fall into the arms of a cloud puff of snow 
Like twinkling diamonds posing gracefully off the roofs- 
And the buildings of our human comforts 
Until the kiss of the daytime sun slowly softens its sharp edges
And so dancing drops of watery icicles plunk into small puddles below 
Until the night falls and they stretch and-
Reform their clinging weapons of new splendor
Stillness embraces with cold arms of unforgiving favor
In the quiet frozen fields of the morning, hope springs a bird whistling
A few scattered old leaves never buried under winter fly free
Now onward to the days end we sweep  
Sleep now, we sleep into the days of December’s mask 
With blankets of wool and fires of warmth around our toes 
As we drift off nestled in our beds,
We can’t image our existence without refuge
Another log is crackling and burning in the fireplace.


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Colour

She is red, a riot, 
Rolling with recklessness and 
Reaping the rewards of passion.

I am carpet blue.
Bubbling with banality, bursting
Boredom with silent fashion.

Colliding in the corridor 
We pace a purple paradox.
We’re her favourite colour.


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Startled Grasshoppers

A floral blanket of silence
Lies out across the desert

Nothing moves-not air
Nor trees
       Nor blades of grass

The ogre’s breath is held
Suspended, then expelled

Stomping his feet,
Flashing his eyes,
Grumbling, the ogre

Blows
And, grumbling, cries
Fat sheeted tears –

Trees quickly bow
Shaken green heads as
The silent blanket erupts
In oceanic waves
Of startled grasshopper minions


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My Rice Field



rice fields look the same except for this one; this one who knew me before i was born… and lying on her fertile belly, she remembers how the moon would lift its anklets to flutter in light ballet steps, tossing our mist of evening’s bamboo for drops of rain to moisten skin of gentle beasts. * * through incantations for creatures gathering in a bonfire of twitters and jousts, a carousel of birds wheels in a rhapsody, then takes flight along hems of air whisking tiny lanterns near the shore, while eggs of rivers crawl on amber clay: how beautiful can she be! her crown heady, full of starlit winds that which closes and bares ever daringly… i must have twirled with her on a cradle of blushing petals swirling oh so feathery, as if in a womb of constellations only she can dare name and bequeath grained glory * * i wake up for some reason: dusted flakes on my eyes collect this one spectacle of tryst with my rice field where i have become different, as my head ceased throbbing in sweet surrender, perhaps, claiming the very floor of my navel in ripened harvest.
Collaboration Contest of Jared Pickett nette onclaud and Franco Gonza -- gratitude goes to nette for being a trooper and agreeing to my request for my first collab


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Apartment 12B

Apartment 12B;
Has been empty almost a year,
Last tenants two kids, their mom, and two cats,
They lived their almost a year and a half,
There is a faint smell of cigarettes still wafting around,
There is a battered couch and a thin rickety chair,
A wall still needs painted where some kid scribbled with a blue crayon,
Some rollerblade tracks lead to the door,
A rose now dried lays on the counter,
The apartment once loved now has a slightly gloomy atmosphere,
A single alphabet block lays in a corner forgotten,
It's a hundred dollars a week,
But he might cut you a deal,
Did I mention it has a certain spooky appeal,
Cobwebs in the corners,
A black cat near the door,
Staying and mousing,
Till its owners come home once more.


Details | Free verse | |

The Taj mahal-w

If one goes on compressing everything
In one’s own self,
How one is going to prosper?
This selfishness could be self-killing.

Make the others laugh,
Laugh and be happy.
Extend your happiness
Make everyone happy.

Shahjahan built the Taj Mahal,
One of the seven wonders,
To Make Mumtaz, his wife
And mankind happy to look at.

================================
Seventh place winner in
Contest: What is civility to you


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I Wish I Had Time For Poetry and Plays

I wish I had time for poetry and plays
My mind allowed 
As I watched the same aged, bespectacled monk
For about the fifteenth time this month
 Patter his bare feet
Upon the pavement
Of the dust filled lane.

 Leaving me again
 To contemplate
  Broken shards of yesterday
In a faraway land that reminds me of
 Secret Pacts made
To myself
 In the time when
Getting too busy was never an option.

These the promises
 Made in Nepalese skies
 below the Lost Horizon
Of the Dalai Lama
Where,
I could not see
 The coming years that would
 Tumble earthwards
Like over ripe plums.
Nor the red Lama
Perched on an Annapurnan cliff
Chanting
Melodic verses
Centuries old 
 Tying a 
Red ribbon round my
 Wrist and soul.

There they lay.
 Meditations that never were,
Given by Siddhartha, Confucius and, even a carpenter, from
Somewhere
Around
The Middle East.
Additionally,
They have even appeared 
In soiled books, 
Ashrams on the Ganges,
Scribbled on bar room napkins and
 Occasionally
 Confessed to
 Unsuspecting passersby.

Where are these ruminations now
As the pages stick 
Like books rarely read
In a villages unseen
By streams only heard 
When all I want 
Is a little respite
From the traffic
That hums
 Next to the lane
That is just beside my patio
Where that same monk will 
Rise up early,
Don a saffron-gold robe and greet dawn 
Both eyes smiling? 


Jeff Troyer
2006 (Chiang Mai, Thailand)










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The Antique Shop

The small antique shop beckons to me as if calling my name I hurry to enter with great anticipation The chime above the door provides an eerie greeting The store is aglow with articles of times past I pass from aisle to aisle my eyes darting from relic to relic I see high top shoes with white laces I see brushes and combs with pearl handles I see pictures in boxes of families in fine clothes I see a doll in the corner eyes staring blankly ahead I see worn dresses on racks with lace collars and bows My journey through time continues as I move on in haste I see a stringless violin in a black scuffed up case I see silverware with fine bone handles I see pocket watches with long golden chains I see hundreds of tiny bottles that once held fine fragrances I see scratched phonograph records strewn hither and yon I see fine tools of the trade in hand crafted cases I see rows of fine china all hand painted with care I see a faded picture of a child with long golden hair Suddenly I pause as my mind starts to reflect Everything before me shelters a story of long ago They are not useless items that I view but the relics of lives past Each article once the personal possession of a living breathing soul With a new respect for the articles before me I move on Ghostly images of faces now accompany each piece that I see If I purchase just one it must be displayed with the utmost dignity For its original owner will have bestowed its care to me I leave the shop with my new treasure all neatly wrapped The chime above the door signals my departure The stale aroma of the shop is replaced by the cool evening air Life, as fragile as the tiny piece of crystal that I carry, goes on Copyright 2007 Charlie Gragg


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Pateince

Carnelian robes permeate dreamtime landscapes
of parchment and prayer flag.
Smiling faces walk swiftly
through corridors of ancient walls
carved from living mountains,
spinning cylindrical wheels in their wake.

Patience of a thousand, thousand years,
we wait for peace.

Eagle feathers jounce
as soft moccasins dance heartbeat
on the prairie hair of Mother Earth.
Sacred sisters hold position in jingle dress rhythms
offering prayer pipes to their men,
who burn sweet grass as they fancy dance past.

Patience of a thousand, thousand years,
we wait for peace.

Hula dancers waft sea breeze
in the heat waves of Pele’s fire.
Warrior lines pace boundary between the worlds,
as molten lands part the waters
and oasis the humble in a paradise
where lei lines encircle life.

Patience of a thousand thousand years,
we wait for peace.

Condor circles as mountains spirits speak
telling stories of forever and ever.
Ancient peoples gather in raindrop mists
to nourish the living land
and feed the collective soul
the medicine of dreams.

Patience of a thousand, thousand years,
we wait for peace.

“Imagine all the people” sound waves and ipods
park bench hosts to afternoon drummers,
as momentum gathers
inner city gardeners and beekeepers
buzzing to the cyber shifts
of “sharing all the world”.

Patience of a thousand, thousand years
we wait for peace.


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Squinting to Memories

I squint  just right
And capture a memory almost forgotten
Jars of fruit and honey fresh from hives
Filling shelves in old smokehouse
Home-made butter and molasses
In her kitchen
Waiting to smother
Biscuits warming
On black cast iron wood-stove
Boxes of buttons
An old cameo
Split wood in corner
Old sleepy dog on porch
The house on the hill
Where Mom's Granny rocked

16Feb14


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The Garden

The Garden

Roses and violets grow wild yet tamed in raised gardens
English boxwood and laurel line the white gravel footpath
Butterflies and bees float and buzz around a thousand flowers
Their sounds melding with the soft footsteps of visitors
Walking through this world every sense is awakened and teased
But, could the mind take in all the sights, smells and sounds surrounding it?
The smell of mints wafting through the breezes is easy to notice
However, the mild sweetness of the zinnia and snapdragons will not be ignored
The sounds of a distant fountain echo off distant walls
Walls that have held a dozen generations of grape vines and ivy
Hummingbirds dart wildly around looking for their favorite nectar
Other birds just sit on the walls and watch what is happening
Life stays the same within the isolated ecosystem
Days, weeks, months, years or decades – none of it matter
It is Nature’s canvas to do with as she wishes
Her canvas, her palette, her paint and her brushes
That garden is her artwork to enjoy and wonder at for all time


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The soldier, the war, and I

The soldier, the war, and I


Today I am home and thinking to my self..
What would I be doing if I had a soldier coming home to me and my family?
What would I be doing if I was the soldier looking to going home to my family?
And then, I look back at all the years passed since this last war..

Many children have grown to become men, Others have grown to become soldiers
Where would I be if I had gone to the war and fought for my country?
Where would I be if I had gone and came back safely?
Where would I be if I had not gone at all because I was not qualified to go?
Would I be with my family or in a hospital injured?
Would I be standing proud, and laughing with my friends and family?
Or would I be dead, as I never got to come back?

Today I am home and thinking to myself..
Thinking of all of those brave soldiers, children still
Who are out there, suffering.. And some ill

Today I am home and thinking to myself..
How many woman are crying because of their gone loved ones
How many men are crying for their loved and missed ones
How many children are fatherless or motherless, or both!

And at the end I stop. I think no more..
I am grateful for the things I have, 
I am grateful for the people who surround me...
And I am sure grateful to never have gone to a war; yet, 
I sure appreciate the thoughts, courage, life, and suffering
Of all of those who have been touched by it.


Details | Free verse | |

The Eternal Infernos of Pain

Front and Center!
Those Gates adorned with pearls in Heaven.
White angels soaring. 

If by chance, 
Ordered to enter;
Through St. Peter's Permission; 
I demand from you chancellor; 
A swift insanity plea, submission. 
For this troubled soul is plagued, 
By vast displays of wicked ways. 

None lost. 
Courtesy of meticulous examination. 
Love lost. 

Diligence pending Investigation. 
Key Evidence, perpetually documented 
In Sin's ominous catalog. 
Rebuke my Judge! 
For multitudes of shortcomings, 
He failed to ascertain. 

Moreover, present was He, 
When Satan drafted me. 
First round,
Pick three.
His Fantasy League...
"The Eternal Infernos of Pain" 

JS Lambert



Details | Free verse | |

IT WAS A SUNNY DAY

It was a sunny day,
mid-July,
the heat seeping
softly down into his bones,
out there in the back yard
where the grass
meets the woods,
just ambling around,
looking at the shrubs and flowers,
when a mosquito
landed silently on his arm.
It was small and black,
and he watched it settle
among the hairs just up from the wrist.
Then, he felt a slight prick
as the proboscis
went into his skin,
and he stared
as the mosquito
began to plump up.
That's when he
smacked it,
flatening the mosquito
in that one bright,
red drop of his blood,
out there in the
early afternoon sun.


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the gravity that pulled all of this together

                                           the star dust in your soul
                                                      amazes me
                                         it spills between my fingers
                                              between my synapses
                                                      unto ground 
                                                      made of air

                                         i see the places i have been 
                                         and the places i need to go
                                             when i lay witness to
                                           the star dust in your soul

                                                  it's all consuming 
                                                       the big bang
                                                    within the brain

                                                     just to observe
                                                    your effulgence
                             the nimbus that crowns your lovely head

                                                        this is worth
                                              the 5 or 6 billion years
                                                    i've been waiting


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The Russian Palace

Far from harsh reality
Of cruel peasant life
Gilded surroundings
Of smooth parquet floors
Damask-lined walls
Crystal chandeliers
The background music of
Imperial fountains
Soothed the nobility at Peterhof
St. Peterburg's bow to Versailles;
Carriages and troikas 
Moved elegantly, smartly 
Conveying crowned heads
Seeking favor from the tsar
In a great hall now guarded
By old Russian babas
Nodding, fighting sleep
As they glare at the tourists.



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The London Dead End

Tis a hallowed place...
This cobbled maze of alleyways
Which bond these rat infested streets
Yet, gas lamps lit, stand betwixt the corners
And lone Bobbies patrol beneath their feet

London,
A littering city of homeless ashes
Falls shameful underneath the moon’s pathetic light
The darkness is the seductress... soon to be accomplice
As the hooligans, once again reanimate in mist of twilight

Scruff tooth kings of domains, self proclaimed
The dagger and a pocket flask, two most closely guarded friends
And in the dank corner pitch kingdom, we anticipate 
From a realm dubbed “The London Dead End”

Lush stumblers...
Streetwalkers or simply naïve
Entry here, our law says you must pay the toll 
Or pay the piper before you leave

I partake of liquid courage
And then I set my blade
To foot falls around corners this way come…
Among this lonely blackened place...

This maze…
Of streets and alleyways…
Paved over each eve with lost shadows
Never again... to witness a morning sun


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another very colorful day

late for work, but had to
yield to the ambulance with flashing lights

raspberry slurpee spilled on important papers
as my brakes shrieked at the STOP sign

ran up the stairs to beat  the elevator
slipped and broke my sparkling cherry nails 

then noticed slurpee  spots on my 
just-perfect blouse, giving it a deeper color

entered morning meeting embarassed,
with flushed face and blood-vessel eyes

my heart pumped excessively as I felt
my source of life flow from head to toe

sat down and stared at a flowing flag outside--
stripes reminded me of my eventful morning 

Left work, thanking God for the
redemptive blood of the cross

that helped me to get through
another very colorful day




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Song

Led down from the tower
Head high and hands bound
Blindfold declined against the wall
Black square pinned to his heart
His eyes afire and shining
And he sang...

He sang of Caruso, Townes Van Zandt
Pavarotti, Bocelli, Mercury,
Carreras, he sang of Antoine, 
Of Sinatra, Lennon, Morrison, Redding
He sang and songbirds paused in flight
He sang like them all

He sang a song of himself
Of leaves of grass, of second comings
Of Byron, and Bharti, and Cummings
He sang of Neruda, and Plath, Tagore
Dickinson, Kamala Das and Naidu
Oh, he sang of them all

He sang of art and beauty
Of Mona Lisa and starry nights
Girls in green dresses and pearls
He sang of Van Gogh, of Picasso
Of Rembrandt, da Vinci 
He sang of Michelangelo

He sang of sadness, pain
He sang of My Lai, Sand Creek
Of Guernica and Krystallnacht
He cried and sang of Wounded Knee
Of Katyn Forest, Sabra and Shatila
Oh, he wept as he sang

He sang of history and wonders
He sang of Olduvai and pyramids
Machu Picchu, Tikal, and Angkor Wat
He sang of a great wall, the Taj Mahal 
Stonehenge, Easter Isle, Mesa Verde
His song took us to them all

He sang of courage
A song of Bunker Hill, Gettysburg
Of the Alamo, Normandy, Stalingrad
Of Lincoln, Guevara and Dr. King
He sang of Bolivar, Bhutto, Ghandi
He shamed us with their song

He sang his song...
As women sighed and peasants cried 
He  sang until the rifles fired, he died
Songbirds fell from the sky 
Soldiers broke their guns on stones
And marched into the deep blue sea.

4/12/14


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Life Is A Masquerade

I traveled to many places and saw many different faces. In all these places I saw many painted faces and I thought - what are they hiding behind those painted faces? Who are these people that go from place to place, carring with them an extra face? They are not themselves. They walk, they talk, they dance and they smile, yet they are a mystery. Nobody knows who they are. They go from place to place - hiding always. They could be here or there, but you will never see them without their painted face. There is a mystery behind those painted faces. Nobody knows because they know how to hide. They go through life smiling and hiding, because They know that this life is nothing but a masquerade...
By Lucilla M. Carrillo


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Dark Days

The morning fog settles low to the ground.
The clouds above are black and grey.
Thunder roars a mighty sound.
As I awake, no sun today.
The forecast tells of dark days.
Lightning strikes electrify.
Slicing through the great black sky.
Clouds continue to roll in,
keeping speed with the wind.
As I awake, no sun today.
Rain slaps hard at my windowpane.
The forecast tells of dark days.
Thunder shakes the walls in my room.
It rains and rains until the rise of the moon.
The wind begins to whistle a tune.
Forecast calls for dark days.
I hope its not a hurricane.
Wind spins the weathervane.
Trees fall across the lane.
I hope its not a hurricane.


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Short Siesta

Lazy is a Siesta, 
In a Hammock by the Sea.
And there in Flip Flops,
You’ll find me!

JS Lambert


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O'er here Lies Victorious Sin

As the dream went the women screamed for Chucky Baudelaire

Side scene alleyway dark night
Foot steps timidly trekked along the broken glass, sinner's hour

Oscar Wilde was alive and well with bourbon laden jovial tales

It was a languid night a night for lords to piss about, hens to cackle, ravens to make love

The ink was then my blood and poison, my god and death

As the dream went the women lusted after Edgar Poe
I was contently bitter and hidden in a meadow of urban shadows cast by tall,stark, unforgiving dens of 
depravity...these dens suit me well

The witching hour sky was wild and held the grin of my demon foe
Singing now are the cigarettes falling from the sky...
A most peculiar yet familiar night

I am awake again nowhere... pretending to be your chivalrous poet


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The Pond

Days of old, days new.
Roaming along, 
the waters edge.
Skipping stones from long ago! 
Cutting winding vines of thorny deeds.
Whilst, protecting flesh from a bleed.
Silken flowers wave in the breeze.
On the edge beneath a tree.
A promise... a story? 
Glimpse the future seeds.
Plop! 
A rock sinks to muddy depths.
A spider weaves its intrigued web.
Eyes peering from across the way.
Watching! 
Waiting to fly away! 
Ripples jump from shore to shore.
Atop, a leaf spins to explore.
Small fleeting signs! 
Dancing to the waters design.


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TRAVEL AGENT

The fascination with travel.
Eating Sushi in Japan
Leisurely walk Central Park
Explore wondrous Machu Picchu
Romancing France
Shopping Italian style
Admire Egyptian Nile.
I just want to go
To Heaven
Then 
See it all.


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Escape

Entertain us
Let us walk down your sloped floors
Sit amongst other dreamers

In your windowless room
We will travel to places beyond our possibilities 
We will cry manufactured tears
Laugh along with unseen laughers
We will walk or run along roads we will never travel

Famous people will be our companions 
We will fall in love 
Hearts will pound in our chests

Scare us 
Make us scream
Let us feel something
Do not let us be dissapointed
Take our buttered hands in yours
Let our salted lips murmer your praises
Give our lives some meaning, if only for these few hours
Entertain us


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OBSERVATIONS ON A SPRING EVENING

A playful brant swam on the pollen-dabbed lake.

A dipper perched on a dog-wood tree so dazzling and aromatic,
he neither decided to stay nor go although his companions were gone;
he had a white head and gray wings feeling a bit too romantic...
seeking through green branches a lonely warbler hidden in a cosy place,
and there he hoped to confide his dreams while he turned artistic.

A restless bittens
searched the tall, sun-dried reeds 
of a river not so calm...
did she find some food like bluegill,
not to make her stomach growl?
She kept on searching 'till dusk!

A tawhee snoozed on the smallest spruce...
waiting for the evening to fall. 

Written by Andrew Crisci
for Constance La France's contest,
" For ( Four ) Beautiful Birds "
May 12, 2011


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Birthright Denied

morning sun, a newborn babe, exhales her first breath each dawn in mist daybreak’s kiss straddles the North Carolina and Tennessee line Cherokee Nation’s last reservation remains within a hazy, vaporous veil nearly two centuries crept past since 14,000 ill and hungry Cherokees trekked the Trail of Tears moving westward wearily to sparse lands that precluded hunting, farming by President Jackson’s ignoble decree many perished along the trail sacrificed to a selfish quest for gold travelers still witness indomitable spirits rising to life each night as mist fades with setting sun accusations of injustice echo through the Smoky Mountains to the tempo of tribal drums Native Americans reenact futile but peaceful efforts to keep their homes to remain one nation to survive to thrive as ancestors did scent of death ascends from sacred grounds woodlands that have forever lost their greenery now just cloudy scenery peaks that resurrect dreary history “reservation,” a trifling gesture from a selfish territorial invader speak to the spirits at sunset beckon them to keep their honorable legacy alive then feel damp anguish in foggy daybreak souls returning to the forest floor only to resurrect again when darkness drapes the mountains once more the curse the shame Smoky Mountains Cherokee birthright denied
*Written August 20, 2014


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Sister

Can you hear me my sweet precious,
for the dream I also see..

~
~

Alice bow in rose petal grandeur
to  leave her stage once again
a sincere pulsing adieu
curtains close
to face life once again

She tumble down brightly lit passage
gathering sticks and stones of muse
to build a great fortress awaiting
so soon life's stage shall prove

If in that moment pulsing
if only a slight shadow reveal
emotes a great revelation
then for her a dream did prove

Carrying out through her kingdom
as time refuse to cease
a wondrous mind creation
of youth she'll always see
 
~
~ 

Can you hear me my sweet precious,
for the dream I also see..

Alice my love, hold forever your days of youth, 
dream always,

your Sister

_______________________________

A Debbie Guzzi Contest


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My Malta

Landing on Malta into a dry, sandy, hot afternoon,
Tears of happiness blind my eyes, excitement 
at the feeling of arriving home, although I am not a native.
The dominating skyline of familiar domes and 
roofs, grown nearer to the airport over time.
Roads resembling few maps, leading you 
astray, and shaking your bones with attempts at repair!
I grieve, not long after arrival, for the 
inevitable day when I will return to England.
Malta, my spirit I leave with you,
I leave my very essence of being behind when 
I leave you,
You are at the heart of me.
I leave you with sorrow, and return with joy 
to embrace your nation and its glorious culture.


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Dress Code

Dress Code


Black pencil skirt
Black pants and black shoes, black blouse that’s the dress code here all black.

To a Macys employee our dress code identifies you and where you work-Macys.

I interviewed for a job at a nearby Macys department store so….
I get a nice email saying I didn’t get hired not once not twice but three times in five years.

I say I’ll apply again but the same thing happens and I wonder aimlessly if I’ll ever get hired at Macys.

I am very interested in Macys Careers after College after I graduate from college in about a year.

I once got hired at JC Penny. I really wanted and still want a job at Macys to be among the “employees” that must follow the dress code.

I would do it proudly.


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Santa Monica, CA

Children of the iron curtain 

Stripped of God from birth, 

Crawling on a toothless wall - 

Question marks on compass. 

Chicks growing colored wings, 

Door unlocked - unable to believe 

Sunrise doesn't come with bars 

For those who can still fly... 

No man's land - unable to catch roots, 

Holograph of gardens back home 

Tended by parents with disrupted movements, 

Tears muffled on the California coast... 

Children of the iron curtain... 

Each sunset gathers them on beaches 

Champion chess players of their fate 

Stop and salute me as I drive along 

alone...



 check the definition of "The Iron Curtain"


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Homesick

There's this girl that I know who misses her home
The place filled with laughter, her joy, and her hope.
This girl, she is sad, and I've seen her heart break.
She just doesn't belong here, and she doesn't want to stay.

When she's at the beach she just sits and she stares
Across the water to who knows where.
The ocean is the one place she has found on this Earth
That fills her with any kind of peace and hope.
Though still she is sad, she's not where she belongs,
But at least at the ocean the fierce homesickness calms.

She'll walk down the beach and look out at the water,
Totally uncaring of those who might watch her.
She knows she's not normal, that she isn't like them.
But she knows that they cold never understand.

This girl that I speak of, how I know her well. Yet at the same time I hardly know her at all.
It seems to me as I walk down that beach that
I'm never gonna know of who I truly speak.
Because as long as I'm here, so far from my home, my heart, my pain there, my hope,
I am only half here. 
I am only half home.
And all that I want....I just want to go home.


Details | Free verse | |

Good Cheer

 
                                 Coming over the mountain top is a
truck with painted brew ski on each side 
                     with a fella wearing a baseball 
                                 cap bringing good cheer and good 
                                          times to all who wish to particapate.

                  Meanwhile this fella has always got
                               an eagle eye out for old cars or trucks
                                        he can restore. Almost like a woman
see their related they both have fine
                                         curves just like a guitar.

                    After awhile the good cheer man anticipates
        what waits in the next town or if 
                                    he'll be a star for one of the bars so let 
us toast our beers and have some good old 
                            cheers for the man that brings our beers


Details | Free verse | |

Shift Change

Steam from fresh ground coffee
Mixes with smoke from cigarettes.
Syrup mixes with butter.
Eggs mix with toast.
Clinks of forks on plates
Mix with clanks of spatulas on the grill.
Last minute bar stragglers
Mix with early morning risers.
Morning crew coming in
Mixes with night crew getting off.
It's shift change at the diner.
Time for me to mix with my bed.


Details | Free verse | |

The Morning Gift

Seven in the morning, 
back door view 
on the hill stands a doe and three little ones
while they graze
I stand and gaze
a smile on my face
a gift 


Details | Free verse | |

My 60's Frisco

Strawberry flower
incense
breeze whispers
a smell
of indian print
curtains.
North Beach
musk perfumed oasis.

Wind chimes
tickle memory moment
flying down
Grant Street
breeze blowing
blaring Baez beat
on gawking tourists
whose crane necks
turn to see
Me
hugely pregnant.

Poignant ache
memory
through times fog
seeping under sills
fills
a world
bridging the Gate's
ancient groan
of Bela birth
and Brownie grave.

Miles 
of blue worlds
misty soft tears
meet a heart
overflowing
in a warm caress
for yesterday.


Details | Free verse | |

Bogart's Crowd

Deafening crowd,
Definitely shout,
Defyingly loud,
Undeniably wow’d. 

Hands stretched to the ceiling.
Sweat beaded faces.
Driven by the feeling.
Adrenal speed races.

Been here before,
But never quite so right.
It’s in the air tonight.
My kind of night!


Details | Free verse | |

A NIGHT AT ONITSHA

(Journey to the East – Youth Service at Enugu State)


On a Friday night, July 1, 2009
I found myself at Onitsha, home for all as it is called
The eastern economic backbone and business centre of the Igbo people
Accommodating the good, the bad, the poor and the wealthy
A colleague to Lagos of the Yoruba people in the West
 
Unlike Asaba, its closest brother it’s always busy,
With busy people during their business in the busy way
As late as it was, it seemed to be the breaking of a new day
If works were to be equivalent to wealth
The world wealthiest people should have emerged from Onitsha
 
Suddenly, the crowd seemed to disappear into a thin air
Everyone moved as if they were late for an occasion
Diminishing like little water pour in a very hot pan
So fast like a speeding car passing a little boy
I wondered how the "fat crowd" of people could be swallowed up by that "thin city" in a twinkle of an eye
 
Standing by me was a man that seemed not to be in a hurry
I had to ask him, “where is everybody hurrying to?”
“They run for the safety of their lives and properties”, he replied with a baritone voice
That got the floor vibrating as if a tremor as just taken place
As he turned to look at my face, he continued “Ina, this is Onitsha, home for all. No man trusts another”
 
At those words, it occurred to me that I have not gotten to my destination
But it was late to continue my journey
And since I was then aware I was in a land where no man should trust another
The only place I could go was a nearby church
The best choice of a place to pass the night for a pilgrim like me.

© 2009 


Details | Free verse | |

Sunken Silence

Sunken deep down into the dark depths,
So far no light has reached this part
As I swim in suspended silence, 
I keep fighting to survive I pray for breath
Or is it death?

One who is drowning has no fight left
To struggle and rebel against the truth will tell,
Everywhere is darkness, time is running out
Life leaves the heart as silence surrounds
My body no more, drowned.

Awoken from sleep.

Freedom from another dream
To find myself on a screen
Watching myself as a teen
Playing a role in a familiar scene…

The young boy is locked inside
Rusty bars in a cell. He cries,
No one can hear his pleas, denied.

They lied.

Against the urges he did fight
So hard he did try.

He tells himself lies
As the sunshine hides 
In the
Long
Cold
Dark
Night.


Details | Free verse | |

The Serenity of Love

The serenity of love
cascades from above
far up from the heavens
like teardrops of rain
from angels in pain
crying for the lack of compassion

Searching for the source
that motivates with force
that attracts the opposites
who are tired of the same
all of them say that love
made them almost go insane

The peace that comes with age
is never presented as a promise
you must find it but I'll be honest
it hides behind a wall of trials
that make it harder and harder to smile

But when you arrive 
arrive for yourself
for no other desire
for nobody else
when nothing at all
is ever enough
seek out the serenity of love


Details | Free verse | |

Seymour Square

The fountain in Seymour Square's
 All the colours of the rainbow
 The clock tower behind
 All the hours of the day
 The flowers surrounding
 All the scents available
 And the spirit hanging in the air
 Hears everything you say


Details | Free verse | |

Bonny Isles

A sparkling jewel
Of nature
It brings peace
To my soul
Fills the 
Empty hole
Slows down
My heartbeat
Stops the retreat
And rebuilds
Refills
My heart
With wonder
With hope
With silence.
Pained
As I am
By my past
The re-casting
Of my being
The removal
Of my all-seeing
Alter-ego
Is a certainty
When on the boat
To Lerwick
With waves
Licking
The sides
And the rhythm
Of the slow
Humming
Engine
Slowing my rhythm
Sending
Me to sleep.
Gets me
Dreaming of
The glistening sea
This wondrous
Place
This hidden
Space
Where few
Do tread
And the calm
Descends
From
The first step
From the lack
Of Chain Stores
The Out-of-date
News
The stormy weather
Views
The Cream Buns
The Long lasting
Sun
A slow
Drifting
Pace
The hundred
Private beaches
The performing stars
At night
A delight
To my heart

I dream of another place


Details | Free verse | |

Photo Testimony

Somehow, We've been everywhere together
Place us against a back drop
Superimpose us and we'll smile
A perfect fit and sun-shined
against the sleeping moon
Somehow, We are invincible now
Hold the quiet in our hands
Break a breath in photographs
A silent testimony 
Enigmatically in tune.


Details | Free verse | |

Cozy Winter Dreams

It is time for those cozy winter dreams.
Night sky bright with starlight gleams.
High above the moonlight beams.
Echoes of a hoot owl screams,
as I snuggle in for those midnight dreams.
Frosty windows and snow covered trees,
mountain tops waiting for those with skis,
cold winds blowing the winter breeze,
and I'm snuggled in with cozy winter deams.


Details | Free verse | |

Ode to Mastic

I walk down Mastic Road
And look into the open yards
Where grass grows
Taller than houses.
Flowers hang down
From branches of decrepit trees,
Singing off key praises
To the grimy streets
Where children pass
In sync
With heroin junkies.

Time can be devastating,
And ugly things have a way
Of getting uglier.

Boarded windows
Outnumber houses.
Down at the end
Of Cranberry Drive,
The low tide stinks
Of high manure
And the beady eyes
Of violent crack heads
Scare away the sane.

The annual town fair
Has given up on St. Jude's church.
There are no Indians
At the Indian Reservation.
Teenagers walk through old trails
And graveyards
With 40oz. beers.
They stumble and laugh
As if William Floyd's estate
Were nothing but weary shadows
Waiting to be violated.

What has happened to this town?
How long will it stand
Corruption,
Disorder,
And guilty association?

Where there are weaknesses,
There are vulnerabilities,
Open to suggestion,
Open to attack,
And we are failing.


Details | Free verse | |

Straight From Heaven's Gate

Twice in my life,
an experience to remember.
At the peak of dawn's light,
on a morning in December.
It's a beautiful thing that came,
straight from heaven's gate.
A holiday to remember,
on the 11th of December.
Everyone is excited,
as the phone begins to ring.
Look outside to see,
the snow that is falling.
An unexpected holiday,
with children out to play.
Memories will never fade,
of that December day.
The snow was steady falling.
The wind continued to blow.
Children's voices calling,
"Come play out in the snow."
So, God sent us a miracle straight from heaven's gate.
Even I went out to catch some falling snowflakes.
People everywhere,
outside in the cold.
The thing that touched my heart,
was footprints in the snow.


Details | Free verse | |

i love you i love you not

I.

Beirut I love you.
My feisty grandmother
is throwing rice from 
balconies
Bullets, bullets,
in the sky
shooting fate in the eye
what a merry wedding. 

II.

I saw Abu Saed
The cab driver in debt
Weep, weep,
Children overdosing
On your streets
Falling one after the 
other
a domino
act after act after act
a foreign show
Or are they 
sleeping?
perhaps...dreaming?
of a brighter tomorrow? 
I 
can’t
hide
the 
sorrow.


III. 

Your women are beautiful.
rounded and sharp almond eyes 
sticks and twigs for thighs
sea-shell hearts that open and close
they’re asking why

IV.

Why?
Why didn’t you write back?
Was it the booze?
Was it the smack?
Was it the young men I saw 
dancing in the forest 
to gods they don’t understand?
Was it the girls in their 20s
Walking out of bars
10 minutes and 23 seconds pregnant
when it was unplanned?
Was it your fertile land
and your sky pink and blue
your cedars your views
that you had to screw
over the only thing
that might’ve been good for you
your people.

V.

Beirut, I love you not.
I can't walk straight anymore.
Your teens are
deep-throating life
vomiting their futures
in the toilet.

I love you.
I love you not.
I love you.
I love you not.

It's raining rose petals
God is bleeding
I see him
in
the
sky. 


Details | Free verse | |

Gods Beauty

I thank your dearly god for all the days
 You've shown us beauty in so many ways
 The crimson sun against the smoky sky
 The speckles of villages from mountains high
 When everything is covered with a film of dust
 Painting your trees 'n shrubs with a film of rust
 September's trees in warm attire all flush
 As they cover their bareness in quite a rush
 The fires that creep over the hills at night
 A pretty red rope is all that's in sight
 So much awe in the wake of destruction
 As all your creatures struggle to function
 Under October's sun bearing down
 Upon the ground completely brown
 The rivers trickle to an absolute nil
 As all the land becomes deathly still
 Upon the flats as the heat's haze lingers there
 Survival a must we can hardly bear
 But the trees remind us it again soon will rain
 As in faith their green leaves refutably remain
 As the darkened clouds upon the horizon meet
 The hope in the air drifting past is sickly sweet
 The parched earth eagerly waits to greet
 The large drops of manna falling at its feet
 And we all breath a large sigh of relief
 As with the waters gift, gone is the grief
 Thank you god for all we go through
 When we can't really see what's true
 Time in its circle such a complex thing
 We know healing u always will bring
 So much beauty does abound
 That faith can always be found.


Details | Free verse | |

Ignoring the Drum Major

I'm ignoring the drum major
Or at least I wished I was,
since she can be very loud,
and I'm fingering my Shako,
you can pet him if you want,
he won't bite, I promise,
and my Dinkles have a rock in each heel.
I want to bend over and take it out,
but the thought never forms in my mind.
I watch the crowd with lazy eyes,
that way they can't see me looking around,
and now that I have nothing to do
but watch the drum major and think,
I become aware of my muscles, 
and decide to think about something else.
I realise I had left my ankle brace on the tightest setting;
I could feel my circulations weaken in my toes.
Quick movements catch my eye;
We snap-turn and exit the field, 
I'm still thinking about the rocks in my Dinkles,
and don't even notice as it starts to rain.


Details | Free verse | |

That's Where The Lord Lives

I walk outside to see all that I can see.
Over there is our house, our home,
In the distance, you can see.
And that place of hallowed happiness
Forever has been our home
And forever will be so evermore.
That house is small but raised us tall,
From the perfect parents who loved us so
To the perfect sister for which every man would want.
The house built us all up strong.
More than a mere building,
It is a place to love and be loved,
A place that hands you hope that you give right back, 
And a place of everlasting faith.
This home is where my parents taught me about God
And opened me up to Jesus.
They opened the eyes of the blind for all to see,
And the blind included me.
They taught me to be the best I can be;
The best things in life are free.
They have taught us so well,
And they all have saved my soul.
Even if I am not there now,
I carry Him with me.
I carry them with me.
I carry Their values and Their teachings with me.
In this house, this home,
We reside.
We cannot forget this.
This is where my Mother lives.
This is where my Father lives.
This is where my Sister lives.
This is where We live,
In this loving, caring, beautiful home
They made just for us.
We cannot forget this either.
This is where it all began. 
This is where the hunger and thirst was created;
This is where we are fulfilled.
We cannot, we must not forget this:
This is where God lives.
This is where Jesus lives.
This is where The Lord lives;
The Father and The Almighty.
This is where We live;
This is where We reside.
We must not forget this.
We must not forget this:
What a beautiful and perfect life this is.


Details | Free verse | |

A Luxury Sedan

A luxury sedan in a lone location
Moves along in endless time.
To be, to pass, and yet remain
Unmoved, untouched,
Always the same.


Suntapped tapers of autumn branches 
Spread and splinter, stark and bare
Against a sky of steely grey.
Heavy forks of oak and maple
Interlace in timeless arcs.
Complex fractals form labyrinths
Against a sky of pale contrast.

Through this nest of wood there passes
A road alive with sounds that ebb and flow
Of passing tires on hardened pavement
Sending sounds of whispered lapping
Like the sound of ocean waves
Softly washing a moonlit bank.

The sounds emerge and fade again
As swiftly as the sinking sound
Of silken sand drifting from a hand, 
Then subside again leaving only silence.
A lingering lapse of time unmoved 
Remains behind – an eternal lair.

All around the darkening road,
Trees rise stately, solid, strong.
Branches lift in exaltation
In a greeting to face the evening.
Dusk moves gently, stealing slowly, 
Like the folding of a mourning dove’s wing.

And still the sound of sighs persist,
Of passing cars on cold asphalt.
Untouched, unmoved by nature’s grace.
Without a glance, the drivers move
To never taste the felicity
Of the silent song within 
The deeply shadowed surrounding wood. 


A luxury sedan in a lone location
Moves along in endless time.
To be, to pass, and yet remain
Unmoved, untouched,
Always the same.


Details | Free verse | |

Vicious Game

Out the door
is a vicious game
a process

battle of spite
tug of war
circus of irritation

where nobody loses
no one wins
a bloody senseless draw

no referee
only stiff jabs
right crosses

haymakers
countered by blow
after blow
       
low...




Details | Free verse | |

World We Live In

I sit in the classroom
Start of a brand new year
I am really nervous
New students, surround me
They come from diverse cultures & backgrounds
None that I am familiar with
It’s like God gathered the whole world 
And placed us together
In one, tiny classroom

I admire the beauty of their different coloured skins
It’s like gazing at a mesmerising masterpiece
Neither human nor artist can replicate that kind of beauty and colour
God’s colour palette, extraordinarily vast!
I love the way their eyes stand out
Beautifully matching, their shade of skin tone
Warm and welcoming eyes
White, shiny teeth
Hearty laughs
Everyone’s so friendly!

Going about my school work
I listen to them talk
Talking in their native tongues
The rhythm and tones of the sounds, so fluid
I noticed they think before they speak
Where most people I mix with ‘blurt’ stuff out
I love the way they pronounce things in English
Faces full of expression, lots of hand gestures
Wanting to be understood, validated

I like the clothes the cultural people wear
Bold and bright colours 
Shiny, printed and patterned fabrics
Where I choose to wear black, most days than not
I turn my attention 
To the others in the room
They are dribbling on about nothing
Nothing, worth listening to!

Drawn back to the cultural people 
I notice some come across as sad, scared or timid
Often too shy, to speak up
To say what their thoughts or opinions are
I wonder if each knows how beautiful they truly are
I can’t wait to learn from all these new people
I am blessed to be surrounded by so many races and nationalities
What an amazing, wonder-filled world 
We ‘all’ are privileged, to live in!


Details | Free verse | |

QUIESCENCE

=== *^* take the vivacious steps of my world's elated lilt *^* Burning effulgent golden daystar - mirrored, reflected Drawing up the facsimile of faith and luminescence Trees oscillate and dance together with the rhythmic gust of breeze Air - blowing and puffing, zephyr cooled by the brook Turfs overran the land with exultation and furore Fondling, gripping, and cuddling the headstream Odoratas - ample-petaled,whitish-pink flower lilies Bobbing in the reverberating melody of undulated waves Nymphalid - gliding, vagabonding with elegance Bragging its chromatic colorful ala above the stream current Cervids drinking serenely with potable crystalline water Salmons plunging, swimming for life and subsistence Sedimentary rocks carried away gently, instinctively Indigenous sanctuary - obscure, raw Undisturbed habitat of existence Factual heaven - midst of the woodland Home of soothing silence - rivulet of my daydream. > and dreams are sometimes more fun than reality < ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


Details | Free verse | |

Travels of My Mind

Travels of My Mind

My mind has travelled so far
It left my body behind
Doing what it desires
It wanders the universe
Collecting ideas from other lands
Alien to us mortals on Earth
Only it knows what it will see
What it has seen
It tells me in my dreams
Such wild vivid images
Colors and sounds that are new
Unknown by artists and musicians
Lands of fire and the darkest smoke
And others covered with ancient ice
Vegetative paradises
Alive with plants that touch the skies
Such strangely beautiful animals
Scents that drive my body to the edge
Trying to push it in a valley of ecstasy
This world where my body resides
The world of my home is so primitive
It cannot compare to what I have experienced
What my mind brings me as I sleep


Details | Free verse | |

Once A Stairwell

I lost myself with you here
Where the heavens and trees weave a canopy
Of silhouette and starlight
A safe haven of innocent love
To which only I now reminisce 

Here I fill the void with phantoms
Forlorn moments of you and I 
Almost remembered feelings of discovery
Where exhilaration blanketed us
In impulsively tossed protection

On those oppressive and humid summer nights
Sleeping in the protection of your embrace
Breathing sweet ardor
I silently confessed of my spirit
Parching that eternal thirst of you

With no care for consequence
We discovered paradises and agony
Sitting upon this crumbling staircase we once ascended
I spy the traces of the moments once shared
Pallid confetti blowing away

And stepped over in the unseen cracks…


Details | Free verse | |

Blue Window Trim -

 
sea island natives
living reminders of trade
cotton rice and indigo
gullah life is made
 
five benne wafers
cast into new daylight
the hudu spell is torn away
rest easy then this night
 
bridges came and baskets sold
the younguns moved to town
rich men came and stole our land
again to trod us down
 
But some have stayed to tell the tales
of how our world began
of lands and cultures far away
before man had ever owned man
 
 
 
 


Details | Free verse | |

Do My Children Know?

Do my children know how much I love them?
No, of course they don't.
They weren't allowed to know.

Do they know how intense the pain is,
to go forward,
while not being allowed
to be their mom, or their dad?

No, but they know the intensity of heartbrokeness,
while going forward,
without their parents,
whom they should have never been taken away from.

They know the depths of lack,
that they were never meant to know...
They know the fears and the terror
that a "supposedly good place"
will unmercifully and maliciously inflict.

They knew the courage, as babes,
that grown-ass folk
won't walk in.

They know that you can't trust
the government,
or the agencies,
or the people in those agencies,
that are suppose to protect them
and their family units.

How could they possibly know
the depths of my love for them?
When they are still
stuck there
surrounded by people
who destroyed
their family
and screwed with their beginnings?


Details | Free verse | |

Finding Legacy

Life is contradictive but never predictive,
Concealing but never deceiving, preconceiving or vindictive,
Only addicted to our own restrictions of right and wrong,
To the places we are and the places we belong,
We pick the places that we feel like we are much more strong,
Because where we want to be is too far or too far gone,
But life can be revealing if you trust where you are drawn,
It's about the life you'll forge, not what you've done or have foregone.


Details | Free verse | |

where the heart is strong

When I was young, I had no desire to grow roots.
Home happened where ever I kicked off my boots.
Now that I have traveled many lands,
I wish only to go back home.
To feel it, to see it, to hold it in my hands.
I wish no longer to roam.
Youth tends to be arrogant and blind.
Not knowing what I had, for home was mine.
Now it is the place for which I yearn.
The place from which I came, and wish to return.
The passing of time can have a strange effect on the heart.
After many wasted years, one wants to be back where we start.
Funny how being away for so long can change a soul.
Just as equally strange how coming home can make one whole.
This is where I will always belong,
For this is where my soul is at ease and my heart beats strong.









Sarah Comstock
5/20/00


Details | Free verse | |

Protect Me As I Sleep

Nobody 
Knows my real name
‘Angel’ 
Is what I go by
I am freezing cold
I don’t have money
Just, the clothes on my back
I am a walking wardrobe
I am lonely
I smell like crap
I am starving hungry
I can’t find any shelter
My clothes are drenched
I look like a drowned rat!
Violence
Upon women
Is classed normal
Around here!
I wonder...
If
I will survive
Another day?
Only
To wake up
And
Do this
All over, again!
“Protect me tonight
As,I lay my head to rest”
“I love you, dear God”

“Goodnight”


Details | Free verse | |

Beautiful Cycle -- Leaf of Nature

Gentle breeze caressing joyful cheek
Blooming blossoms in its shadow
Dancing in the wind it waves
Autumn colors so grand
Winter makes it sigh
Spring budding new
Summer blooms
Dancing
Leaf!



Comments:   The nonet poem has nine lines, with the first line containing nine 
syllables, the second line eight, the third seven, then six, next five, then four and 
continuing until the last and ninth line has one syllable. The nonet poem may be 
written about any subject, and rhyming is optional. 


Details | Free verse | |

Bicycle Twin

 Bicycle Twin 
Bicycle Twin 
 
 
There is the thief it may be him it looks so much like him and yes he waved at me 
his gun hand dissing me. If it was not the bicycle thief it was his Twin it looked so 
much like him. He had the same twisted smile the same lofty eyes the way of 
looking at a person like a target to be killed. Eye did not hesitate twin or even 
same person full of hate eye told him take all of that with you and keep it all day 
long eye do not receive it from someone eye do not carry all your hate with me to 
date to remember added pain to bring it in to add to all the total chagrin of you as 
grinning such a foolish grin you rode away on that stolen bicycle twin. 



Details | Free verse | |

about the ashes

Mnemosyne's colour wheel glitches through August,
on that candid orange the dogs howled into
during our autumn countdown.
When we still had a countdown.
When we still had August. 

I remember the moonlight traveling westward 
and seeing your face lined with silver.
I remember Artemis taking an emergency exit and landing,
landing in the closest pool of warmth. You, you, you.
And I remember dreaming. I remember testing 
what the world was like outside of you.

The singed leaves remind me how to breathe
on this street, the same way you used to.
I am learning about the ashes.
Sometimes we must burn the atlas
before charting ourselves from scratch.
Sometimes love must die, first.

In heaven's attic, even angels lose their meaning.
Returning only, when someone remembers:
the attic is still a part of home.
When touching means dust on your fingers.
When suddenly, you are intruding.


Details | Free verse | |

October Georgia

October Georgia faintly whispers... Whistling gaps between the autumn days She plucks the blues in windy back wood fiddles Hums hymns of Evergreens across the open space And around the rustic corners Blackbird banjoes play Echo callings that cannot wake Towns and sleepy hollows forgotten Or shake the fields off of southern snow The bleeding heart of silent cotton Confederate clouds sky beards lazily wave Soothing horizons and the ears of God’s children Preaching sounds that lead from Sabbath churches Fruit sweeter than the sweetest Dixie peaches October Georgia faintly whispers A simpler and easy life downhome tradition And all can feel it beneath their bones The tickle of her southern music


Details | Free verse | |

Down And Out Haiku Slam

<                                          whispers of the wind .........
                                            speak to enchanted sea .........
                                            bp ........  going down


Details | Free verse | |

Tumble, twirl, with the tidal swirl

Come dance in the waters
that summer has warmed
amidst the froth of the seas
Hear the sighs that echo from tides
as the crescents ripple in breeze
 
Join the surfers 
as they ride in on the waves
balancing bravely so tall
watch as their confidence grows so high
until showing off some do fall
 
It’s one enormous bath 
with the plug left in
where people swim around in the quay
and in that huge sink, the ships sail in
with the goods coming home from away
 
See how the bathers go in for a dip
desperate to cool down in the sun
and children play sports 
on the beach with their new friends
running around with such fun


Details | Free verse | |

My Senses

Slowly walking,
Pace by pace.
Mind easing down,
As I stand at the ledge.
The wind playing with my hair,
Taunting my ways.
Looking over,
To see the jagged mountains line up,
At the edge of the world.
As the bleak, dark thick skies cover the world.
Leaving a coat over our heads,
That send rain to nurture the plants,
That stand out of the ground.
Breathing heavily,
Taking a step back.
Watching as the clouds cover the night sky,
Like white-out on a paper.
Watching as water sneaks down the creases of the over-grown hills.
Looking up,
Reaching for the sky.
Take me where it's safe,
Take me where there shall be no harm done.
Intentionally turning around,
Waiting.
As the wind hushes the surroundings,
And whispers me such an answer.
Waking me to my senses.


Details | Free verse | |

Malady of the unknown

Stern faced and threads of meager means
Hands worn and thirty 
Eyes that have lost their shimmer 
The legs that he stands on, getting thinner 
Striving for bread? Or really a sweet bottle of wine 
All in good time 
All in good time 
As he begs for a dime 
Crowded streets, crowed faces
Most carefree in their hidden spaces 
Blackened nails 
The scent of sweat and booze
They cannot bear to stare into his face 
No, for they fear they may wake one day in the same state- 
of retched disrepair  
Or is that they just don’t care?
I wonder does he feel any hope?
As he goes about jostling his carriage of left over junk 
Rain falls on the crowded city streets 
As they look down all you hear is his shuffling lonely feet 
 

 




Details | Free verse | |

Leaving

 I am at the airport
And I’m going away
The tears come unbidden
As I think of this day
I’ve kissed them goodbye
My dogs that I love
I’ve given out hugs
To those near to my heart
I’ve phoned all my friends
And texted some goodbyes
I’m only gone for two weeks
So why do I cry
I’m just feeling sad
And a bit lonesome too
I’m already missing those
I love and then you.


Details | Free verse | |

Dark woods M N

Should I turn and go back
To search for another way
Or continue through these woods
Hoping to see the next day?
I will turn deaf
To the cries of wailing spirits
And whispers of the living dead
Careful with each step I take
Lest I tread on a snake

The moon's illumination
Barely reaches the ground
I can feel eyes all around
Fate has turned me into
A meal for the creatures that dwell
In these woods my blood will flow
To the ground and feed the ghosts
And soon my spirit will be confined
To the dark woods
Of the living dead

( I got inspired from a forest that is nearby our home and it borders a cemetery and a national park)


Details | Free verse | |

Moiety

Cultures of the world fill our senses
recognized by different contributions
Brave spirits preserving what is left
from bulging cities to scant villages
Living in every corner of this sphere
separated by individual circumstances
There is no way to rely on each other
if not dividing everything more equal


Details | Free verse | |

A Stranger Asked A Question Of Me

A stranger walked up
And asked of me
"Where in the world are you?"
I paused for a second, then answered him this:
 
Oh where in the world am I?
I think I got lost again,
Probably somewhere along the lines of my pen.
But am I even in the world to begin?
I mean,
Body i am, but what is the world?
The planet we live on...?
That seems such a small world.
Or is there no world,
My minds in my pen,
Is the world as insubstantial,
As the breeze or the wind?

So I'm not in a world,
Not physically at least.
Well I am in the world,
But my mind's not at least.
My mind has its own world,
The one for of mentioned,
That world is in color,
Of unseen dimension.
Emotions exist there,
But so does the mind
Though on different planes of existence,
Though both intertwined.

You asked me where I am,
And I told you the truth;
As to where I am, I have not a clue.
So now I have a question and an answer for you;
If you know the answer, why ask if you knew?
The question you want is different though dear,
You want to know where you are,
So you ask us unclear,
Of the answer you seek
Or the meaning to find.
So find your own meaning,
Since I've now told you mine.


Details | Free verse | |

To Show, To Share

I write you down to myself,
Little notes, things you say,
And keep them to myself
Because we don't want to be found out,
I want to keep you safe in me.
There is so much we will be
When the distance between us
Is measured with fingers, not miles.
There's so much to show you,
So much to share with you,
I see nothing without wishing
You were seeing it too.
One day is what I wait for.
Follow you, follow me:
This is all I know.
Then let them dare to say
That we don't know love.


Details | Free verse | |

47

Cinderblock walls
Thick wood doors
And concrete floors
(For)
eight straight hours
switching rooms
switching desks
(Even though)
It's all the same 
Atmosphere
(Semi)
Good teachers
Some funny
Some not
(Confusing)
Assignments
Pile up in my
Brain
(Till)
Relief comes
When the bell
Signals fourth
(I)
Rush to the room
Also my home
(The)
Bandroom


Details | Free verse | |

Dusk lights, city smiles

Natural beams slowing to aide
Still the scenic beauty strolls
Embracing with open arms
Relive the day that is to…gone

Hustle bustle on the streets
Rushing to get along with own
Relax back with evening twilight 
Lights to sparkle with the moves

Delhi dusk to accompany along
Walking loneliness among crowds
It comes with my sole soul time
Sounds of hurry all around

Dusky winds ease the hard day
Calls to chill out comes what may
Brightness of sleeping sun speaks
Union with moon to soon display

Delhi walks on the dusky lane
Go on and dance with breeze
Dusky blue my city wears over
Love…in air, dusk scenting Delhi


For dusk of Delhi...


Details | Free verse | |

I Love Camiguin

Camiguin is a pear-shaped island
Lies northern tip of Mindanao
Second smallest island in the Philippines
Smallest province in Northern Mindanao.

Camiguin is rich of natural attractions
Waterfalls, hot and cold springs 
Evergreen forest fringed with sandy beach
Truly a place to convene with nature.


Oh how I love Camiguin
A place of safety or refuge
It is where my parents met and made 
Eight children. True love that 'till now they have displayed.




04-16-2014


Details | Free verse | |

Greenbrier River Dreams

The clouds drape low, 
shrugging blue mountain shoulders,
melding with ghostly river mist
ascending in specterous vapor trails
salted with primordial tears.

Between stately mottled sycamores 
and aged medicinal white oaks,
slippered phantom figures glide,
clad in hides of deer and mountain lion.
Down to the silvered stream--
a mirror for chalky spirits and bright stars--
they slip to drink of pristine springs.
The powerful spell impacts within, without,
invading every animated sense.

A dream, an apparition? 
I wonder at the dawn of bright sun rising,
green moss clad boulders warmed, fog dissipated. 
I discern the curious sensation
of withdrawing from an ancient trance.

The happy river dances down the valley,
bordered in mountain laurel ruffles, pink;
the fragrance of breakfast bacon wafts,
a tantalizing, hunger inducing wave,
and campers' laughter echoes off a dream.

August 19, 2014


Details | Free verse | |

Balcony Room New Orleans

Balcony Room New Orleans

Headed to New Orleans to have some fun
Excitement is felt all over the place
Knowing that there is a balcony room awaiting
Didn't forget to pack the mardi gras beads
Throw open the french doors out to the balcony
Crouds of people walking up and down
Smiles everywhere, throw a bead here or there
The view is the best spot to be
Music comes from all directions
Across the street the best drink around
The Handgrinade, drink stands up to its name
Taste good but careful not to drink too many
Balcony room, best rooms in New Orleans, BUT
**have to go downstairs, too much excitement
Have to blend in the croud and enjoy
Lots of places to go and lots of places to see!!


Written by:  Debra M. Falgout

























Details | Free verse | |

Memory Lane

Memories are close friends of mine now
We became closer after he left and she left
From this world, then I was left with
Images of places and faces

And now that they’re gone
Their faults were so, so
But their good out weighed
Their wrongs

Memories are good
I don’t dwell in the past
But occasionally

Memories will visit
If I’m feeling sad

Memories will lead me to a place
Where I laughed and laughed
And sometimes when I had reason
To be mad

No, not insane
But righteous indignation
That caused me pain

But most importantly
Memories are like a sweet
Reverie

That God has blessed me with
To remember the past and things
That will be.                                                     


Details | Free verse | |

At a Town Near you, Soon

Cities panic Earth weeps Solar flares Explosion, heat Sun's surface Erratic release Her atmosphere Radiation increase Earth's ionosphere Disruptive invade Frequency, communications Existence outplayed Magnetic reconnection Responsible rearrangement Opposed fields Worlds descent Energetic particles Aurora Borealis Solar winds Aurora Australis Proton storm Biochemical damage Human body Cooking, engage Time scale Visual detection Two hours Negative protection Heat intensifies Populations panic Chaotic scenes Earth manic http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/life-9.php


Details | Free verse | |

Zimbabwe

Dark skin,
like leather stretched
A skeletal body
Cradled in her arms

Tiny claw like fingers
Clutching at her breast.
Fount of nothing
Fount of hunger
Starvation.

Little body dying
Begging
For nutrition
Tiny eyes,
Black, desperate
Begging

Mother crying,
Skeleton hands 
wrapped around
 the child.

A last little breath
Weak, begging
A last little moan
A last attempt at a suckle
Death

The bruises still fresh
The pain in her heart
The rape of her body
The murder of her soul
A starved stomach
A dead child 
Ringing questions

Why do I suffer
When you sit in your mansion
Why did he die
For you,
Zimbabwe?


Details | Free verse | |

FALCONS WITH POWERFUL WINGS

This breezy island is often visited
by falcons with powerful wings,
as they display the swiftness 
of their elaborate flights; on the gleaming sand,
I'm laid back and pensive, while my curious dog
scampers to and fro, trying to catch them...


Falcons with powerful wings, on my island blasting with sunshine,
forever dwell to multiply your offspring:
no human ever sets foot on it to avoid dire,
for the steaming soil is too arid, and nothing ever grows,indeed;
and  the palm trees can only offer shade
for someone eager to stay,but afraid... 


A sunlight as dense as fire
scorches the soft and low dunes,
on the deserted beach I play my melodious tunes;
a capricious, soothing breeze brushes
my suntanned, golden cheeks...
why is this beach the quietest place that instills every desire?


Falcons, roar until the blazing sky disperses its blueness
which attracts your enthusiasm to induce brazenness, 
but the arrival of shadows brings dreariness and solitude:
for vultures that are raring to go to a brighter altitude;
only the whimpering ravens huddle on the battered rocks, and wait
for the luminescent sunrise, hoping to flutter in the August's intense heat...   



Details | Free verse | |

33 Prayers

There's a time for loves to be won and lost… At least there was for us.
For 33 Chilean miners, lost below… life was simply stopped.
Alive and well, but buried deep…  2,200 feet below.
They had such a daunting, beautiful dream… to see the sky once more.
Being hot, little water, dark, only bites of food…17 days was asking a lot.
But life was true and held on strong, even when in the bowels of the earth you’re lost.
With each day the hopes began to fade, always bolstered by others to be strong.
Little did they know their prayers were there, were being answered in spades above.
Time went on as governments stopped, to send whomever they could to help.
The world looked on, every eye glued, as prayers they also imbued.
For once in their lives everyone together worked, for a common cause that’s true.
Building, digging, drilling, and planning… together as life below held on. 
No one knew the miners were truly alive, as the earth held them in a deathly grip.
But faith held everyone together, for 17 days, on this fateful trip.
Breaking thru a small hole to them in time was a monumental task indeed.
To do it bigger again, was asking God to plow the way and give them back again.
Drill bits broke, and no one slept, as dreams of home, the miners spun.
Several drillings were stopped by fate, as a single one held on.
Many things could have stopped those lives such as slides and after shocks.
Remember the mine was unstable, or it wouldn’t have fallen at all.
Everyone below was tired, hot, worn out, and sick by the time they reached their goal.
One small, flimsy, missile tied from above would have to drag them to the top.
Would it snag? Would the earth crumble? Could it take the buffeting there and back?
The tunnel was finally reinforced. The first people went below, as we held our breath.
One by one, for 24 hours they were brought up from beneath the earth.
Never in the time of man, has a feat been held to so tightly for 69 days and finally won.
Thank the Chilean government, it’s people, the world's and American help, for bringing them back.
Then like the miners did… get on your knees and thank the God above.
Yes… it was one unified, miraculous leap of faith, with God holding every ones hand.
It brought back faith in many things including God and yes, even your fellow man.


Details | Free verse | |

Olympic Village

A numbing wind is gusting
Newspapers dance with wrappers
Grey skies mute reflections
In a thousand facets
Of an Olympic jewel
Dull and lifeless
Dark and silent
Sitting empty
Misery walks in the streets
Blue knuckled homeless
Pull closed their ragged coats
Against the chilling daggers
Of poverty's icy breath
Shuffling past an empty promise
Their desperate eyes
Stare with longing
And cry in need







Written for Contest: "Empty Apartment"
Sponsored by Matt Caliri


Details | Free verse | |

King Of The Hill

<                                               Vietnam War
                                              Capture of Saigon


                                               What The Hell For


                                                   Guerrilla war

                                                 Conventional war


                                                 What The Hell For

                                                       
                                                       Laotians
                                                    Cambodians
                               
                                                     Vietnamese
                                                    U.S.  Soldiers 
                  

                                                     Casualties


                                                 What The Hell For


My Thoughts On 
The Vietnam War


May All R.I.P.




                                                         

                                                       


Details | Free verse | |

I Stand in Awe of Nature

The power and beauty of Nature fill my heart,
Sometimes, gazing at a mountain's grandeur make the tears spill,
Thunder and lightning at eventide, give me a thrill,
Yes, I stand in awe of Nature.

A bird's sleepy chirp at twilight makes me take notice
As I think of the hard life they lead, but still they're happy,
The clear, blue water of a lake gives me a glow,
Yes, I stand in awe of Nature.

Tornadoes, hurricanes, and earthquakes all speak of Her power--
Then I watch a horse  trotting around a track, and I think
"What raw power and yet what beauty we live with"
Yes, I stand in awe of Nature.

If you ever watch a sunset over Earth's waters,
Or listen to a tree whispering to another,
You can't help but feel the power And the love of our planet,
And, like me, you will stand in awe of Nature.

 



Details | Free verse | |

The Power in Peace

To be able to stand up and be thirty feet tall;
shout out and echo from the mountain ranges of chile
to the coast of Japan;
to harm someone without use of brute strength,
but with the power of the words they speak.
And with a single step they shake foundations,
tumbling buildings like the White House,
and the Palace  of Westiminster;
one can finally tell what power is.
Those born to lead are destined;
to destroy,
like a wildfire they spread,
contaminating the wood that's built society,
weakening the support;
to rebuild,
with cunning superiority,
they triumph over the fire,
dousing with a power that comes to few
who don't lead in fear,
but instead take the necessities of those around him
and own them.
And so fires begin,
from the burning hearts of those like
Adolf Hitler and Jim Jones,
which are doused by unity,
a power created to regain balance
when evil runs its course.
And with this unity,
we've created nations, governments
and in rare occasions, Peace.


Details | Free verse | |

The Road I Traveled To Learn To Fly

When times were hard and the road was so rough it seemed my best efforts were not nearly enough I took a prescription of self-inflicting damaging words to tear my higher self down To tear myself down a very high risk I thought as I stood at the edge of the cliff for better or worse I shall learn to fly or the next fall could be the one where I die The day that I died I failed to exist floating impatiently into falseness who I was was not what made me the point of it all pointed into obscurity Live harder and faster void of disaster that was my goal from then and thereafter and right up to now it has worked well escaping the darkness in the great depths of hell from whence I came had to abstain this new existence now knows my name I painted it in the bad place I escaped as I stood firmly for the first time filled with faith.


Details | Free verse | |

The City LIghts


At night the city glows with a thousand lights,
Towers of steel silhouetted against the sky.
They show their might without restraint...
Full of mystery and the promise of untold delights.

The dawn breaks, revealing the tired grey of concrete,
The perfume of crowded streets and sidewalks.
People hurrying to spend their days inside...
Afraid to notice the huddled figure in the doorway.

There is no living memory of waving grass,
Or flowing brook, the warriors step upon the land.
Architecture built on the bones of the past...
Burying a time and place of a different grandeur.

The wind blows around the harsh corners,
A tattered paper skitters fitfully down the way
Voices echoing down the dark alleys...
Whispering again and again of the progress of man.


My city..San Francisco. Gorgeous by night, like other cities by day.



Details | Free verse | |

Dusk

As the leaves fall to the ground,
I see the glowing sun slip to the horizon.
A soft wind blows with a cooling sound,
And clouds march across the skies.

The amber disk falls earthward,
Giving the clouds a heavenly glow.
The wind swirls the leaves,
Forming omens in the air.

I go to leave this scene,
I watch all that goes on,
And witness a beauty that will come again,
With every day, from dusk to dawn.


Details | Free verse | |

I Sing Praises To You

And I sing praises to you
As my voice is lifted high
Where the angels reign
High above the sky
You can hear me sing
And I sing praises to you
The mighty Lord above
And though from afar
You fill my heart with love
Like a shininmg morning star
And I sing praises to you
Just as the sweet tunes
Ringing from a harp
My voice is lifted to you
And so is my heart


Details | Free verse | |

LISTENING TO THE PELICAN'S PLIGHT

What brought me to this sullen shore...
is not sheer curiousity at all,
but an equivocal question too hard to be answered
even by those whose minds are so cultured! 

Pelicans swarm the February's frigid sky over the bay...
like clumsy butterflies greeting a spring's day;
it's past sunrise, and all clouds catch on fire,
fleeting to the western sky to avoid the infernal dire!

I take a brisk walk adventuring in the gelid wind's blows...
as the agitated waves  indicate an imminent storm;
unafraid , I lean over the fortress's  stones with hands so cold,
to feel the vengefulness of a sea frightening all humans!

It's Saturday mid-morning, I hear a shrill filled with emotion, 
and a shivering pelican comes close to where I stand;
he doesn't want the crumbs in my generous hand,
but understanding and much more compassion!

If he could talk and tell of his plight so unspeakable...
I'd listen and make a promise for his survival...
where  once limpid waters rolled so brightly,
painted in gold by the solar glow, now they look too murky!      

Does he feel great animosity toward us...
we, who build and destroy, kill and terrorize?
And what made him turn to me  so fearlessly;
and will we, rulers of this earth, show hiim some mercy?      


Details | Free verse | |

Shadows of Summer

A new dawn arrives with the whispering winds of a new day.
Shadows of summer shade the nesting blue jay.
Sunrise peaks through the weeping willow.
Morning dew drops fall from the leaves of the red oak.
Shadows of summer dance under sunlight,
painting dark images on the ground.
Shadows of summer spilling down.
Daisies embrace the noontime sunlight.
Sweet breezes blow to the hummingbirds delight.
The woodpecker taps a rhythm of beats.
The day is warm with midsummer heat.
Shadows of summer dancing beneath the trees.
Along comes the sting of honeybees.


Details | Free verse | |

Home is where the heart is

There are pieces of a quilt, that I still call my home
They are kept alive in memory, and are there to keep me warm
When the chill of frigid winter, or the still of an afternoon
It wraps me up in comfort's arms with love that fills the gloom
I close my eyes, and can see it there, and I am home again
The house, each room,  my family, the place it all began

There are grassy acres, with long white fences and a house with no pretentions
Standing in the morning sun, a pinto horse is watching me and clamoring for attention
A small corral… my Dad in Levi's…and a pitchfork heaped with hay
A barn, some stalls, a chicken house, a clothes line, filled with white sheets, waving

Sweet fragrant fields,  alfalfa rows, five peach trees in pink bloom
Across the road a melon field, intertwining through the loom
Inside the house,  some bacon fries, we hear morning radio drama
Clattering of dishes, and the chattering soap-stars, and at the sink, would be my Mama
The kitchen decked in a sunshine yellow, as warm as melted butter
A breakfast nook, the table set, and a pile of school day clutter
A living room, a window wide, where a mountain towers over
That was way back when, where I began.....and now it's something other....

A wedding ring, and years went by, the home had changed, and so did I...
A different place, with acres too, and long white fences, and a house with no pretentions
Standing in the morning sun, are oak groves, fruit trees, clamoring for attention
There are gardens woven with flowers, and some growing things to eat
Clattering of dishes, and a CD playing,...Sweet!...
In the living room, from the window wide, many mountains live here too...
Living on the northern tip,....my California view
Some things have changed, some things have not
I've been quite lucky.....for what I've got
This home I knew, the quilt I’ve sewn, it keeps me warm, where I call home...


Details | Free verse | |

Memories Of Virginia Beach

Unpacking the sweater I was wearing
on the beach, under that veiled sky
bathing me in the late summer’s heat, 

I can hear the surf, the daring waves
surging up like greenish snakes and
approaching sideways, hear the white 

noise hissing at the tops, I can see 
them washed ashore rolling toward me,  
watering the hot sands of my memory.


Details | Free verse | |

The Rock-Garden

Come with me, to where the river-water
Snakes around and through the rocks,
Lit by the sun,

To where the rushing stream
Cools hot, tired feet
 Where  all noise is stemmed by the stones.

Join me in this world 
Of grey and green and blue
Where the old river sings its tunes;

Its hymns of hidden springs,
Its ballads of the valley,
Its memories of folks old and new,

And I'll tell you of the river-men
In their earthy dress,
Grinding meal and weaving reeds and singing all the while.

Of the hidden tomb,
Where a robber laid his tired mount to rest,
And of the cryptic tracks in the muck, which we'll try to guess.

The birds will entertain us,
With their piping discourse,
And we'll be soothed by the smell of sage on the breeze,

Borne down from the high hills,
Where tenacious climbers labor up steep paths,
Chasing a view spread before them like a living map.

But this struggle is not for us today,
The day is far too clear and warm.
We'll rest by the river , our bodies cooled by boulder and breeze.

We'll pass an afternoon in the garden of God,
Stealing a slice of the halcyon world,
Before the Fallen Star's meddling lies.

We'll lie there, you and I,
Surrounded by the sweetest sounds, the choicest sights,
Time will be irrelevant, and the sun will be our clock.

And as the day ends,
We'll walk arm-in-arm back down the road,
Our warmth staving off the dusky chill,

As we return to the dead land of automata,
The grinding cycle of mammon,
And the vain, callous masses numb to nature's perfection.

So come with me then,
While the summer and our youth last,
Let's be prisoners no more.


Details | Free verse | |

Places of the Heart

Wondering breathless through my 
heart each day to assume life is
alright and in place and adversity
will change with no surprises.
I borrow the future in every movement
not letting onto any visions or songs 
of demise. Numb as a flock of thorns 
and weary as a forgotten angel, I merge
into sentience with my arms outstretched
awaiting a shift from the heavens to
steady my prayers and align them with 
the Gods of creation. I dream to imagine 
the sweetness of my day with a small 
circle of gold that sleeps in harmony 
and prospers in everlasting peace.


Details | Free verse | |

Jamaica, no problem

Tonight from our distant, foreign shore
Tonight where the waves of Florida splash the shore
Tonight, like children hunger for a mother's breast
Tonight, Jamaica, your lore abates the stress.
And the children in the yard playing there
Hide and seek in the guinea grass
Find there life no problem there. Jamaica, no problem!
O Jamaica,
We were down by the jetty in a far away place
And I saw the tides roll in
And crash their nightmares on stones
We were lonely and for therapy we traced
Our footsteps over childhood, recalling you there
Pastor had a need to rebel
Against the routine certainty of life here
The bills and doldrums that bog men feet
He told the sailor jokes
The ones that make the pulpit pale
I told riddles
The thins my entire life has been up against
But I did not hear her laugh
Like this before, referring to his wife here
The poor dear was drawn taut like a bow
The arrow aimed within
I figure anansi could make her snap the string
Tonight on the jetty, Jamaica, you are king
It is not just the pepper pot
Not just the bammy, irish moss and fish
It is not just the rain unstoppable in May
Yellow corn dumplings and caroline cow peas
It is the navel string
That leash our manhood and our heart
The indelible glory of your beauty
That make us climb the mountain singing
To sit in the blue haze and dream with clouds
The reason we say whether in hurricanes, or earthquake, or death
Jamaica, no problem! Jamaica, no problem
While yard is on our minds tonight
The moon came and sulk at our delight
Jamaica, no problem, your children are alright. 


Details | Free verse | |

Uncovering

Unbearably I gaze
through the endless smog,
and attempt
to blow clouds
away.

Though 
a pollution I have let it
become,
It seeps
             inside.

Around, it is dark
because inside
so am I.


Details | Free verse | |

I Know The Itch That Can't Be Scratched

I know the itch that can't be scratched
The world is growing way too fast.
We all are at battle with peace of mind
Alas, it's the itch that can't be scratched.

I know the itch that can't be scratched
These wars are growing hard, and fast.
Soon the world will be one dead blob of mass-
Alas! It's the itch that can't be scratched.


Details | Free verse | |

The Lazy Days Of Summer

the illuminating sounds of summer
first there is birds sweet sernarding amidst cottonwoods
and if your lucky enough even capture whispers of the wind speaking 
down in a lustrous valley of green and don't forget about  
echoes of an eagle encircling the blue yonder looking for it's mate
or you can capture  sounds of a babbling brook flowing 
down an winding outcrop stream but to me
I think my favorite sound thus far is the laughter of my child's voice
and the sizzling sounds of hot dogs and hamburgers 
being made on my grill as were watching  fireworks display 
from the back of a twin engine houseboat floating down
a rivers edge Oh the sounds of summer would be nil
if I would awake from this enchanted dream 


Details | Free verse | |

Holy Vow

<                                             5 Vows
                                              Holy Wow

                                               Jainism
                                               Realisim

         
                                             Here We Go
                                            Nice And Slow


                                            Non - Violence
                                            
                                                  Truth

                                            Non -  Stealing

                                            Celibacy / Chastity

                               Non - Attachment  /  Non - Possesion




                                               Life  For  Thee 

                                               It    Must    Be




Entry For 
Deb Guzzi's
Broad Horizons


The 5 Vows Of Janism

                        

                                                

                              


Details | Free verse | |

Unseen - collage contest

Here I hang with dust round the edges
No longer in vogue kept on an old ledge. 
Memories I hold of people and places
One of a baby, flat on her tum.
silly hat on reaching down to her bum,
Child now grown up and in her teens, 
another hat on wearing her jeans,
Beautiful, she was a winner in a show, 
such a busy girl always on the go
Parents picture, on a cruise, looking happy, 
Tad no longer here, so sad to loose
Pictures of her animals, Boxers 3 
loved them all dearly, now here with me,
Holiday snaps, looking very snazzy, 
First day in uniform trying to look bossy
Many pictures she has removed, 
too painful to look at them, so nobody views
So many memories for her to look back. 
Seems she has gone forward, 
forgotten  the past. I lay here unseen.

Dated Oct 1st 2013


Details | Free verse | |

House Of Cards

I forget that I’m in trapped in a house of cards
until the wind comes blasting through
And I’m left again with nothing
Nothing but grief and this pile of all that I knew

I had to forget how much I cared for you
Something no one should ever have to do
Can you remember? Do you remember?
Those darkly happy days when you felt that way too?

Love so many bitter times unrequited
Two hearts broken----too broken to break anymore
You’ve become my dark horse in this race against time 
And I hope to God we’re not about to lose 

Futile 
Infantile
And all around absurd 
Is what this nightmare without you has been

We shouldn’t have to work so hard
To fall flat down on our faces
again and again

I wish you’d come out of your shell
and back to life in the warmth of my arms once again


Details | Free verse | |

Florida

 The Florida sky
is a soft cotton canvas
over tart groves
that, in the late afternoon
break wide with thunder
and rain

I am so glad for that rain
it is daily
it is aloe vera
It makes me new
sinking
and carrying my year
 out to the ocean
to become anonymous
to have no owner

The year ran deep
and broke my spirit
This tear fell often
As I learned and walked
with stony friends
and bruised feet
As I loved too hard
and trusted too much
As I let hands
lay hold of me
and pull my golden hair
As I blurred my days together
with wretching secrets
and shaking fingers....

I am finally glad
 glad for the rain
and the hush of the world
between lawnmowers
and sun showers
between crunchy crab grass
and squeaky beach sand
between family smiles
and the miles I walked
to be here, away
in Florida


Details | Free verse | |

Ethnic Goa and Unique Goa

As I opened the door
And stepped inside the divine floor
A gentle zephyr bore upon my core
The tranquil ambience aroused me wishes galore
And I felt I’ve completed my journey to God’s manor.
 
There is the aureole addressing the path,
the path to the house of worship,
even in the dark it is a sign of luminescence
Shinning against all irreverance.
 
God made heaven and earth and all the angels
and all the extra important angels, called Archangels.
The Archangels were God’s very special friends
and were shinning and strong and powerful
They adhered God's message 
To human races.
 
From the essence of humanity
I feel mankind is comprehensive
They are gifted with a communal harmony
And from the essence of spiritual luminance
Divinity is never classified
And the idol we worship is in the core of mankind.
 
Today when I see the unity within
I feel to be a part of them
They don’t have any caste as such
Neither have they belonged to any religions
Christians, Hindus and Muslims
Together they are Goans.
 
Thence I hold my breath
Along the serene western sky
To the sandy coastal line
There to blend with the ocean rage
And legless gamy sight.
 
Live shells, fresh air and sunrise at the horizon,
a lazy day and a walk to remember.
I gave up everything 
just to feel am the only admirer
 
Along the coast I rove alone,
and I see am being followed,
but not by humans
but by the species I never acquainted before
 
Seeking for your morning lust,
I call upon a peaceful realm,
I decided to hold your hand,
and thence I committed to feel the warmth.
 
Before I leave,
let us rock on the sandy beach,
let us blend with the folk culture
and together we will grab the trance music and dance,
the moments we will collect may bring us back to here.


Details | Free verse | |

Ol' Sea Snake's Carriage Ride

Ol' Sea Snake's Carriage Ride

Cobblestones wobble and rock the carriage, 
as I circle these streets with Blue Bits and 
Derby Boy on this vibrant morning.
 
With the sun on my back and  a salty gale brushing 
by, my spirits soar as I imagine what the day will bring.
 
People come from all over to tour this city, 
and soak up it's history and scenic views.
 
Why not climb aboard my carriage and take 
a brisk ride with me on this beautiful day?
 
As we trot through the historic district, I'll 
tell you some of our most scandalous folklores
and show you their shocking locations, 
like Copper Moon Ridge, where pirates once 
dressed as dames to steal their first good swig 
of America's finest moonshine.
It's still pretty darn good!
 
You'll see the towering cliff views of our granite 
lighthouse, whose menacing design has weathered 
decades of the ocean's pounding tides. 
 
We'll squeeze in time to feed the beached seals basking 
in the sun or catch a rare glimpse of  the orca whales 
playing in our bay.
 
 
If romance is your desire, I'll tool you around  in the moonlight,
to our brightest vistas that magnify the star's diamond twinkles.
 ...Perfect for capturing your lover's passion-heart.
I'll even take a long stroll, just to assure you of your privacy. 
 ...Gentleman's honor, I won't take a peek!
 
If it's fish and chips you seek, we'll head over to 
Smacky-Bud's Mackerel Shack for the tastiest fish around.
But I'll be up front with you, don't feed any to Derby n' Bits 
or it'll be a long ride back.
 
So jump aboard and take a ride with this Ol' Sea Snake,
while there's still time.
I'm not getting any younger!
 
You day-trippers spend too much of your weekly grind 
in your lackluster cars.
 
Come, sit back and unwind for a short time.
I'll sweep you back to the golden age of enchantment, 
when hearts would mysteriously merge on a slow-trotting 
carriage ride.  Memories like these could last you a lifetime!


Details | Free verse | |

In Order to Remind Myself of Orange City.

I took photographs...months after tears had dried...

so you wouldn't forget me....

There is the severity of me, the extent of scars that fall from you....

didn't you know...

and I finished it off, I regarded the night with violence because

you

showed me how...

and the taste of screaming still sits upon my lips, I've licked them for eight-hundred days...

cracked...

mirrors, torn jeans and shirts that never quite made it past six months, but I refused to
trash the clothes I wore on the day the sun forgot to fall...

and you...


you...

found your way home...

cracked...

and bleeding..

I arrived to nowhere...
and took a photograph...
so
I'd
never 
forget.







Details | Free verse | |

Pardon This Page

I reveal these words to the American,
who has the right to pardon this page,
while the whole world's getting out of hand,
as the evils of revelations rage,

Why's the US helping foreign lands?
when it can't get a grip on it's own,
If they intend to make any future plans...
why not start right here at home?

It's nobody's right to invade anywhere;
there's no serious threat here at home,
so send the officials whom send our troops there..
and on the front line with a cell phone,

Yea! parachute them in with a baseball bat,
a cell phone and a roll of duct tape,
One they get to where imposing minds are at...
they can put on their superman cape,

Or, drug them and issue them a used baseball bat,
a walkie talkie and a catchers mitt...
Once they realize where and the heck they're at,
there's a chance they'll resign or quit,

And pardon me if you don' t feel the same,
or believe "just"...........as I do,
but those thousands of humans killed and maimed...
continue growing in numbers too.


Details | Free verse | |

COLOURS OF DESPAIR

Images; pitiful black images
suckling frantically from dry, empty breasts.
Black eyes; wide open, fearful, but
mercifully blind to destiny's most unforgiving hand.

Victims:tormented by the incessant heat of the sun's bejewelled rays,
mercy is fleeting; uncompromising
shades of hopelessness cocoon innocent souls;
But Fate will cast its untimely shadow
Black is the colour of despair.


Details | Free verse | |

ON THE STREET

I noticed her, she looked well bred 
Enthusiastic eyes, sand wiped skin, dark
Trying hard to look casual

Then I saw her, looking thin
Worried eyes, forced smile, walking
Trying to look casual

One day she stopped me, asked me for a light
Flirtatious eyes, looking bright
She passed a casual remark

A year later I saw her, well bred with a black eye
Sitting on a door slab with a cigarette
I passed by, looking casual

I passed her by for days and nights
Until one night, two nights, she was gone

©david byrne sept ‘12


Details | Free verse | |

Just Something I'm Thinking About

I have been to places people only dream of.
A bright place, a beautiful place, an open place.
A place that I felt was meant for me.

I have seen sights that most people never see.
Light, and Love, and life full of meaning.
A sight that showed me that I had meaning.

When you go to such places, and you see such wonderous things, they do leave 
their mark. 
They become all that you can be.
They fill you, sustain you, are your bread and water.
Those places, those sights, are all you'll ever need.
Those places, those sights, are all you ever want to be.

Well, yes I have been there, and yes I have seen it, but that's not all I have seen.

I have watched that place be torn from me.
Forcefully, horribely, my life lost all meaning.
There was little left of me, with all those places burned and broken, the ground itself 
bleeding.
There wasnt even will enough for keening.

I have known pain. It is a black place that makes what should be your heart the 
most efficient method of torture that's almost beyond human comphrension.
A black thing, a terrible thing, and you claw at your chest with all the strength you 
posses because, nothing could ever hurt as much as what's inside you, making your 
whole body scream.

A person can bleed when there is no wound.
A person can scream in agony when they feel nothing.
A person can be alive without living at all.


I am a girl who has seen many things, and I've been to places that people only 
dream.
At ninteen years old, I am on old woman. Burden, wearied, and in some ways 
broken.
So tired of the world, too tired for words. I just want to rest, to take a break from 
this world.

But, I also am blessed, for the people I have. Mason, and Steven, and so many 
more of them.
I am loved, and loved deeply, and I love deeply too.
They bring back that beauty, they bring back all meaning.

This world is filled with beautiful things, just as it's filled horrible things.
But, with all that I have seen, there is still more to see.
And despite all I've been through...I look forward to the life that's ahead of me. ^_^


Details | Free verse | |

Come to the Ocean



Come to the ocean and breath deeply Taste the salty mist, hear the gulls cry See the whale spout far in the distance Touch the sand and let your tears fall Salt to salt, the earth will be patient For it knows you will return some day......


Details | Free verse | |

My Walk

My walk in the woods I see one quick flittering, humming,

Standing tall ever vigilante a woodpecker begins.
Crown of red feathers builds excitement extreme.
Head jerking quickly looking bold without sins,
This bird has such power discovered in a dream.
Devastating wood in all forms, feasting it would seem.

Songwriters’ blue jays,
Dressed in colors that I see,
Family ties strong,
Flies so silent perched in song.
My relaxed moment is when.

An early bird upon first frost,
Flicking their tails, presenting orange chest,



Written for
Sponsor Constance La France ~ A Rambling Poet ~  
Contest Name For(Four)Beautiful Birds 


written by 
Cecil Hickman

written 05-19-2011


Details | Free verse | |

Lost Where They do not Belong <> End Line Poem

Parents and spouses to their photo's they look,  Another
           hero was killed fighting for our freedom.   Lost  
                       so far from his home and family,   Today
       we continue to send our sons and daughters,   But
                                there will come a day when,   They
                                      will live as free as we do.   Will
                         we ever learn from these theatres,    Never
                       again should we out live our children.    Be
  cause' another was lost today, but they will never be,    Forgotten



" I hope i have done this form devised by Dane Ann and HG proud "




http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-6.php


Details | Free verse | |

Neon lights

How the love of joy deliria
Just met with each other
Seconds minutes hours
Than light year to search
Back to  clock each to see 
How all to look like

All  it is made up
Make you cry yet  proud
Days and nights work
Test  your taste in love

All in standing in neon lights
Banners and images 
Superior being images
As banners runs through
Falls ball in each year

Hope ball drop for peace
Time wraps back and forward


Details | Free verse | |

Ocean view

It was not a night for work
the moon was at the full
high over the sea
erotic and disturbing
l could hear the gypsy singer in the tavern below
self assured as usual she had a slightly distant air about her !


Details | Free verse | |

ALICE IN WONDERLAND

CRAWL DOWN THE RABBIT 
HOLE; DISCOVER YOUR,
OPTION.

A TINY DRINK OF DRINKING 
POSION, WILL ERUPT ANY
QUESTION YOU HAVE ABOUT:

ALICE IN WONDERLAND LIFE;
CAUSE WHAT DOESN'T KILL
YOU; ONLY MAKES YOU
STRONGER, " SO WHO DO YOU
THINK YOU ARE???? 

LEAVING SCARES ON MY
JAR OF HEARTS!!! FOR THIS 
LIFE IS NOT A FAIRYTALE....
NOW YOUR JUST SOMEBODY
I USE TO KNOW.

Written By:
SWEET N' SOUR=CARMA

06-24-12


Details | Free verse | |

Upstate

Pressed inside my heart,
Her northern beauty lies –
A bold, burning canvas
Made bright again by tears.


Details | Free verse | |

Leaving Malta

Trying to find somewhere to hide
Deep within myself, but no longer can I.
At the airport waiting for departure,
More and more heartache, it is such torture.

Feeling like a rope being tugged either way 
Tighter and tighter becomes the pull and
Harder and harder I try to invoke fun.
But it simply is not there, only growing despair.

Barely able to see through tears of sadness
As if a permanent goodbye, my world crumbling around me,
Preparing for the worst, but without need.
For none of it is real, only within me.

Unable to feel happiness, weighed down with grief
Trying to lose myself, avoiding feelings of loss
Rejection and abandonment,
Repeated patterns so well known.
 
Like old friends
Finally being cast off as a snake sheds its skin.


Details | Free verse | |

The Drive

One must ascend approximately
Ninety-eight hewn stone stairs
To reach the hell that is
Forgetting what it means
To live at the bottom of the hill
Or one may forgo this education
And travel swiftly up and down
By automobile
Naming this purgatory life
And eternal bliss a television
Viewed from a leather couch
Artfully turned away from the window


Details | Free verse | |

A Ride Down the Thousand Islands I

A kayak floats in lazy elegance
through the vastness of the Thousand Islands. 
Water drips off its paddle as it rises in the air.
A breeze pushes the kayak through the maze.
No sign or sound of cars, buildings, or people.
The world as god meant it to be.
A stingray races by at amazing speed
the kayak turns the corner in a graceful manner.
Branches stretch over the water forming a canopy
low enough to stand and reach out
pluck a reluctant leaf from its home.
The crisp leaf crumbles as it is grasped.
A sweet smell replaces the smoky aroma of civilization.
Paddling on, past the floating island and its canopy.
A juvenile little blue heron yells for its mate 
wading in the water three feet away.
The vast serene painting of a world absorbs 
stress and with great speed throws it away.
The oar is placed across the bow 
the kayak drifts on in silence.
A brown behemoth emerges from the depths.
The sea cow basks in the sun 
close enough to reach rub across its slimy skin.
Consider touching it, but hold back.
Man already destroyed everything he touched.
It is not for us to cause more damage.


Details | Free verse | |

A Summertime Stroll



Details | Free verse | |

Rose City Kitty

In the Rose City
My eyes stare, as I, 
walkwith care the way 
any true cat would I move 
both in darkness and in 
the morning light  

Dilligent and Discreet I 
swiftly sell my sweets In 
these Rose City streets to 
Forget that perfect popular 
and exceptibal color of grey at
about a quarter to three  before 
dinner sks, that rarely see blue.

The wind is softly flowing
The past, presant, or future 
girlish ghosts of me are 
simultaneous. If you frantically 
find me carelessly carousing and
Careening, remember to let me
Spend some time with 
September !

At 33 i died my hair white so 
i wont see it lose its color wehen 
its robbed by the rouge age 
Though getting old and tiring
 trying to keep inline
 with life.

Purrf....ing  time,
Ill always find 
my way back 
to you, to 
My home,
The Rose City


Details | Free verse | |

I'LL SMILE 4 U

Stroll through the Illest Empire
So much heat feeling like we’re living in the fire
But we’re living under fire
Tell me how many shots must it take before my loved ones are crying at my own wake
Its time for a break from sad eyes I’ve seen grown men cry
It hurts to tell a loved one good-bye
It’s the same reason why they died
Hearts just too full of pride
Mothers praying their young’n wont be a victim of a homicide
Too many drive-bys blood shed for a block you really can’t call mine
Wishing we could turn back time
High off of nickels’ and dimes
Making moves to boost your grind looking for hope
But the hustle got us in a head choke
Don’t blame me for acting crazy cause this how the streets made me and you
To watch our back and throw bows and cuss
Cause you got to be tough when times are rough
I know your asking when will enough be enough
And truth is I don’t know but this is how it goes down
But if I make it out will you smile for me now

So many families struggling with poverty
I don’t judge cause that use to be me
Watching mom come home late
Barley any food on our plate
So young and life we already hate
Praying God bring us something great
My clothes were cheap imitates and kids called you on them for being fake
Knowing mom bust her ass to provide
But all your knock offs you begin to hide
Ashamed of what you own
I know how you feel I been there too
I see mothers walking there kids to school
And the walk is far when you cant afford a car
Mom hoping one day you’ll be a star
I know about being next to poor
Your local neighborhood liquor market is your grocery store
Wishing you didn’t have to go through that living off of food stamps
Cube the neighborhood is a trap but we’ll all be free
So smile for you and me

Even 2pac said smile for me
This isn’t how its always going to be unless you let it be
In our different way we’re all a G
Cause we’re trying to make it straight legit
Whatever your hustle never quit but don’t lose yourself in it
Cause you still got a long ways to go
Still got a long time to grow
Use what you know to get by or you wont survive
Remember to always keep your dreams alive
Whatever it is just do it and never try
The limit is the sky so keep your heads held high
And when you come to a hard road just always know nothing can keep you down
You’ll be able to come back around
So give yourself a chance
And I’ll smile for you now

JUNE ‘06
B.K.M.jr


Details | Free verse | |

Anemones and shells my childhood

As I recall my past, it was a sea kissed life
summers spent roaming the Rabbit Burrows
cradled by dunes, beyond Tramore strand
towels stretched out on Woodstown beach
soft powdered sand, surrounded by forest
adventures in the Saleens, daring quicksand
of swimming with dad, high jumping waves
falling, laughing in great gulps of salt water
free and fearless, in our bare bronzed years


It was a sea salted life of wave-washed castles
of tide pools, alive with translucent shrimps
carmine anemones sucked tight to the rocks
periwinkles, hermit crabs, a world of shells
baby pink crabs moving sideways over stone
textured algae, salted, crisping in the heat
our faces stinging with sand and hot sunshine
we spent hours with nets, exploring the pools


After months and years of living near the sea
the landscape became an essential part of me.
I saw fuchsia ballerinas pirouette the breeze
sea pinks, grassy rosettes swaying on cliff tops
rocket, tiny lilac petals with succulent leaves
valerian, a candy floss pink, sweetly scented
We picked them and pressed them into books


I recall my child’s life with a skipping heart
when summers seemed to shine eternal
The rock pools taught us to treasure nature
togetherness bred a strong sense of self
a respect for the sea, the taste of freedom
when I open a book, I often find a flower
and shells -  this child is forever combing


Details | Free verse | |

The Happening

The mountains bleeding into the sky,
Whispering soft visions,
That send black shadows casting over.
The million stars,
Approaching ones heart.
Indulging the moment for when the whispers reach our ears,
Sending tears to our heads.
As lightning strikes,
Once.
Twice.
Three times,
As trees come stumbling down,
Winds raising their voices.
Pushing everything aside.
The silence burried away in screams of the waters,
Clashing up against the salty rocks.
Sending coldness to the ears of the blind,
Who can't see what natures upsetting with.
For mother shall'nt do us harm,
Let us strain upon your hands.
As your trees come tumbling down,
And winds scream with shame.


Details | Free verse | |

Babylon

Words hold the meaning that we assign them
Ever since the fall of the tower .....


Babylon
Ancient land of mysteries solved
and shared
Where collective mind 
cast away the shadow of doubt.

Creative thought 
held siege by the Jealous Gods of war
and retribution
Zeus
Appolo
Yeshua


A hundred times, babylon fell
to the Kassites, the Assyrians, 
She fell 
and was re-built by Nebuchadnezzar   
The hanging gardens, of Eden
her fruit of art and music
flowed through deserts
with the sweet wine of Bacchus
intoxicating all in her pleasure. 

In the aftermath of the great feast
they awoke to find
The Persian army stationed amidst them
having walked through the river
and under the walls.  
Order reform, separation. 
corruption deterioration
Dust to dust.
till
Alexander the Great
wooed her alive again.. 
Babylon
dancing through gardens, libraries, 
markets, travel and trade
musicians, poets and playwrights 
came again to sing praises of her beauty.
With his death 
she fell
pawed apart by the feuding decay of his bureaucrats.
Babylon, death and rebirth..

Now she lies beneath the sands, 
beneath the waters of the Euphrates 
A camel ride south of Bagdad
where the tanks and shells of many lands
shake the ancient tower down.

Hammurabi’s code still stands
shattered into a million languages.

Right is right
and Law is Law.


Details | Free verse | |

Morning Moment


 Barefoot
I stand beside the water.
Ocean sand and red clay warming my feet,
salt air cleansing my thought.
Shadows fade gray before the dawn.
Tidal surging
mark another day, another time.
A ship sails from harbor
moving sedately toward the rising sun.
I turn to go
and a gull greets me with cries.
Perhaps tomorrow
all longings will be stilled.


Details | Free verse | |

Montserrat

The tourists have departed 
The sun is almost down
Gregorian chants are flowing
It’s peaceful all around
On Montserrat.


Details | Free verse | |

You're Going To Die Laughing

I could just imagine Tom 
dancing in the Lord's Kitchen
wearing his Spandex Boxer Shorts
while his other goofy Friends Hammond and Rosie
pose as Vacuum Salesmen 
at a Dire Straits Gig
making Tidbits and poking Wormholes
with their Listerine Soaked Tissue box
Oh I know Tom has to be laughing in sweet Pain
as these two nut cases aboard an U.F.O.
and stay drifting to another brilliant Convention
on  Insomnia and Nuclear Waste Medicine
Bet they end up thinking that  Lunar Craters
is the head cheese in charge 
As they sit to Wine And Dine for free


Details | Free verse | |

Pyramidal Design

Tucked away in tiny alleys
Golden secrets in pyramidal design,
Tumbling layers of flats and homes
In blocks of cream and golden limestone,
Indistinguishable behind screens and doors
And built to withstand the heat and cold.
Fertile land farmed in terraced slopes
So precious it’s preserved for crops,
Animals seem hidden away
In sunken pits, not on display.
A different world in the Mediterranean,
So much so it is a haven
Of safety from the wider world,
Let’s pray it can be preserved.


Details | Free verse | |

Somewhere Between Wedded Bliss Street and Family Man Drive

Don't fear me.
My problems are 
not contagious.
Years ago I was 
like you.
My home was beautiful.
My family was everything.
Somewhere between 
Wedded Bliss Street
and Family Man Drive
I took a wrong turn.

It's not as easy as you think
to turn back around.
'Just get a job! '
is as simple as 
answering the 'Meaning of life'.
An address is needed for a job...
yet a job is needed for an address.
Without one or the other
where is the hope? 

You think I look 
frightening.
Maybe if you actually saw me
you would see that
I look
frightened.

I don't want a handout
but I'm in no position
to refuse it.
I need your help, 
your compassion, 
your faith, 
and your friendship.

I can get myself going
in the right direction again.
All I need is a little help
while I round the corner.
Then watch me fly.


Details | Free verse | |

Excused Excuses

 
Excused Excuses 

Excused Excuses 


“Oh Mr. Jenkins NO eye am not rally late eye was in the information commons 
looking up the answers to my questions and getting ready for my test please 
don't make me say it.” “Yes Mr. Timid tell the class your name your own last 
name and say it fifty times.” “Like this just say “I am Timid” and let it go like 
that.” “It's just a lesson for you to learn and it will keep you from ever being late do 
you want to be late to your own funeral?” There was a quiet in the little classroom 
made for fourteen places near the door. Everyone was smiling and hard to keep 
from the guffaws for listen gentle reader to what the student had to say. “I am 
Timid fifty times.” And then the door slammed and he went away. Every eye was 
on the JENKINS man as he was heard to say, “What a delightful lad he will lead 
his troops to combat soon.” “What a delightful little man.”And in a hushed and 
softer voice Mr. Jenkins said to them “Mr. Timid is excused.” 
 
           
 
 
 Excused Excuses 
 


Details | Free verse | |

Walk in the wilderness

Sun dawning in the glistening fields. 

Children laughing along the streams.

Smiling flowers and glossy leaves.

Cricket singing the southern song. 

I walk the dream all along.


Details | Free verse | |

On The Dawn of A New Year

The passage of time records
The things we have achieved, the milestones we have crossed.

The time to come heralds
The things we can yet achieve, the milestones we have yet to cross.

The past is a collage
Of moments in a lifetime, of people and places that have been

The future is a canvas
On which we get to create moments, people and places that can be.

The year gone by
Is a storehouse of memories, a cellar full of nostalgia.

The year to come
Is a receptacle for effort, a playground of anticipation

So, while - on a day like this - you might look back at what has been
Take time, also, to look ahead at what has yet to be

...Of the person you CAN become
...Of the things you CAN do
...Of the places you CAN visit
Of a life that you CAN create


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Going home after work

From the driver's seat I watch 
the autumn coloured Schwarzwaldlandscape
glide past.

Suddenly I understand the
never imagined, hidden beauty
of red, yellow and black


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Suburbs

Days Are Days 
Theres No Stoping Them
People Walk And Talk Down 
The Streets
They Are Bowned 
To Meet One Way Or Another
Some Hide Behind False Cover
Some Like Myself Sit On Thier Roofs 
And Act As If They Hover
Most Flant Thier Loot
And Then Give You The Boot
And Then You Think Shoot
What Did I Do?
Thats some ones cue
They play the piety card
And say they are forever scarred
But Every One Gets Up The Same
We're all to blame
But Equally Different 
And Ment 
For Greater Things 
We Are The Same Species
But Arent Classified As So
It makes things flow
Day After Day 
It Is All The Same


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I saw Egypt on fire yesterday

I saw Egypt on fire yesterday
And I like Solomon winced
Not because the end of everything is ash
Jimmy told us long ago
How it would end, anyhow 
The fire next time
Could only be lit
By ancient aliens webbed in modern lies
What man would burn his home
Would set fire to his heritage
These are strange people who play with fire like children
And when my house long haunted
Is made vacant by the fire's exorcism of greed
I shall go home
And plant palm trees to make my wine
And this time no guns will be permitted
No subtle tongue of lies
And shall sit and speak of our grandchildren
And wine will quench the greed that torches your soul
I shall smile, and drench the fire in your eyes.


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Unknown

I've read too many books
I've heard too many songs
I've seen too many things
to know where I belong.
To know where I fit in
along which walk of life.
I yearn not for the truth
But for a guiding light
I want to find a prince
A struggle, and a quest
I want to fight with skill
a sword upon my waist
I want to scream and yell
with all the angry crowds
I want to conquer all,
and rest in golden halls
I want my words to weave
a canopy of life
I want my stories told
To children when I die
I want to live a life
of beauty, love, and war
I want my eyes to shine,
I want my wings to soar
Alas it cannot be
The time for that is past
My dreams will never be
The world I long for never was
It's driven me insane
For when I hear the calls,
the symphony of where I ought to be
it's Powersurging thrall
The tears begin to flow
For what I'll never see
The minds that wrought my world
are cruel minds indeed.


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Nervous Wrecked

 Nervous Wrecked     
 
 
Author Message 
Admin
Admin



Age : 53
Joined : 13 Jun 2007
Posts : 650

 Subject: Nervous Wrecked   Today at 11:02      

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Nervous Wrecked

Nervous Wrecked 

The light fixture still lays on the stop sign down two weeks ago in a city ruled by 
money lost and found and scrounged the driver must have parked and hidden 
car so very well the pavement cracks in every smaller town have grass in them 
as well as all the accidents add up and no one rings the bell the city soon so 
busy the founding fathers cry the landscaping seems so worthless to mye eye so 
unfit to eat eye starved to death eye died in the midst of all this city plenty eye 
suffered and eye cried a wishing and a well a nervous wrecked. 
 
           
 
 
 Nervous Wrecked     
 


Details | Free verse | |

half past nine

Tonight at half past nine, meet me
in the olive grove. Deconstruct your sweetness:
I like it when you steep your voice in venom.
Tell me the names of graveyard flowers, and pluck,
pluck them clean, pluck them
at your knees, 
pretend they aren't for me.
Bring me stories of caves in their nakedness,
?bring me my Atlantis.
And under this mustard streetlight,
remind me of your secret,
for tonight at half past nine,
only the moon is culprit.


Details | Free verse | |

Zring sissity rib rang

Dada or Dadaism is a cultural movement primarily involved visual arts, literature—poetry, 
art manifestoes, art theory—theatre, and graphic design, and concentrated its anti-war 
politics through a rejection of the prevailing standards in art through anti-art cultural works.

This is my attempt at Dada.


Zring Zang
pinggity prong pang
jumping across from train to train
Bring Brang
sissity sis sang
circling round, round the storm drain
dring drang
ribbity rib rang
Trains and drains, over my life reign


This is copyrighted material. All rights are reserved. Reprints must be requested in writing to 
the original author. © Alisha Groves


Details | Free verse | |

On the shores of Dammam

I followed the bubbles toward the light
To what I thought would be
an everlasting, undying love
I broke the salty water barrier
like a killer breaching restraint
Reaching skyward toward the stars
…and freedom
The drops that graced my cheeks
was a symbol of things yet to come
Of exactly what, I did not know
Sometimes, going through life
with your eyes open can hurt
Salt burns open wounds
Reassurance can be a prudent 
reminder of just that
I had no idea that the heart
I imprinted into the sand,
Engraved into the earthen beaches
of the foreign, would set up camp there 
I planned on making it my ritual
When I ventured and returned to you
My spirit would be left behind,
Left to protect your name
Like on the beaches of Dammam
Even though we’re no longer together
That’s where I will stay
Stranded, deserted, confused
But never lost
And never alone


Details | Free verse | |

I'll Be Home Soon

Between the time that
The sun peaks from the east
To the time it
Descends to the west-
From the moment
I open my eyes
To the single instant
I fall to a blissful coma-
In the time that it takes
To go a thousand miles 
Away from home-
From the start to the finish 
Of my daily routine-
From off the pillow
To back on-
Between sunrise and sunset,
I've thought of you many times
And will always,
My dear friend-
I'll be home soon.


Details | Free verse | |

I miss home

Frozen in disbelief
Such beauty
Only in paved distance.


Details | Free verse | |

Vivaldi's Violin 1687

Vivaldi man of “Four Seasons”
Played his violin for a reason
While singing the strings
Excellent music he brings
Great melody it rings

“La Primavera” sole concerto
Uplifting the spirits without alto
Amsterdam, Prague, Venice and Vienna
Spectacular operas making souls remember 
Strings and harmony joining in splendor

Maestro de Violino
Creating rhythm with his bow like no one knows
Musical scales moving your head
Great melody even for newlyweds
Tempo, decrescendo, awaken even a sleepyhead

Vivaldi man of “Four Seasons”
Played his violin for a reason
Bow singing the strings
Excellent music he brings
Great harmony it rings


© Joseph, 4/14/08
© All Rights Reserved

~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~
Placed in the 352 poems selected
out of the 1129 submitted in the 
Poetry Soup September 2008 Contest
~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~

Dedicated:  To the lovers of great violin music

Author’s Comments:  My youngest son is a violinist and it’s such a pleasure 
listening to his music and hearing about the musicians he talks about with 
others.


Details | Free verse | |

JOHANNESBURG

From my window pane,
i behold your soulful presence.
I whose gaze is gripping,
whose passion has known 
the melancholy of nature` s  splendor.

There` s no brilliance to be compared 
to your glittering lights
in the night season.

your Meadows are charming.
your lawns unstrip like
a green carpet cast upon the mountain side,
and your streets are bustling 
with different colors, one people.

you are beautiful O` Johannesburg!
you are the symbol of  Black perfection,
the pride of Africa,
the hub of nature`s lovers.

O` let me fetch you unend
with my Western gaze.
Let me collapse your vastness
into my forlorn heart,
where your memory slays 
like a Crystal fountain
ebbing out in the midst of a Hundred Palm trees.


Details | Free verse | |

Beach Walkers

Retreat into the shimmering sand,
with bare feet just drifting along.
Contemplating the waves, the wind
and the voices, follow them all.

Try not to think as you breath,
let go of that endless refrain.
Deconstructing the ways, the pain
and the choices, let go of them all.

Silhouettes like ghosts straight ahead,
and sea gulls that open their shells.
The salty sensations, the distant
reflections, crossing over the wall.

Beach walkers stalking the day,
reconnecting the roots to their core,
The eternal foundation, and love’s 
constellation, take care of us all.


Details | Free verse | |

SANDCASTLES BY THE SEASHORE

The silky sands and the setting sun,
The gentle breeze, its caressing touch,
The frothing waves, crashing tirelessly on the shore
The gurgling waters, rushing and ebbing,
The air filled with its misty fragrance, 
The humming birds flying through the horizon,
The sky ablaze with vibrant hues of the dusk,
Some sea-shells and washed out starfish 
Sprinkled here and there....
Armed with colorful spades and buckets
Set-out two gleeful faces and two pairs of twinkling eyes
Its Sunday, its funday and its a frolic day!
Out at the sea shore, with indulging mom-dad
Bare feet and tiny little hands, happily building royal castles in sand!!





Yesha Shah
8th May 2012


Details | Free verse | |

Traveller

Her feet move while she sleeps
In gentle heel toe patterns
Escaping the bottom of the duvet

She’s walking in heels
Slowly
Inhaling Italian Lavender
Her tongue quietly clicks to the
Tap Tap Tap
Of her shoes on the hot pier

Upon waking only the gentle 
Canal’s trickle remains
Spilling across her cheek
And resting at the corner of her lips


Details | Free verse | |

close

what I hold close is all of this...
the songs you sing to me
barely audible whispers in my ear
hands that touch the places they know
fingertips that trace a familiar path
excitement rendered anew

what I hold close is all of this...
the places we've been
the trails yet to forge
together we go hand in hand
footsteps in sync
love warms our way


Details | Free verse | |

Free Range

Often my thoughts do range far and wide.
But it’s not just my thoughts that skim the tides.
When my Hubby asks and I don’t reply…
He says I’m free ranging again with my mind.
He laughs and tells me to please wake up…
But I’ve already been there, thank you, so much.

Deep in thought and so far away,
He’s still my muse in every way.
But once I get going on that thought…
Look out boys, my mind is set and lost
But don’t you worry. No Sireeee.
When the typing slows you’ll know I’m back, you see.

Those free-range chickens have nothing on me…
I way surpass them in productivity.
And as my words free range far and wide
You’ll find… others may be joyfully joining  me for a time.



Details | Free verse | |

New Mexico~

Kaolin ceramics shelved for display
A framed mirror suggests a window into time
Fortifications in a continuum surround this fortress

Inside a Southwestern style is secured
Bulldozing nature for architectural delight
Rich in warm tones and textures of stucco
Baroque oval portals lead into substructures

Endearing pine stripped.....stained to perfection 
Strategically placed beamed ceilings finesse 
Whitewashed antlers hang above a fireplace
Not a hunters home but a setting of one once known

A water well stands with an antique pump 
As an unyeilding sun drenches the broken claylike ground
Genuinely revealing a life long past
In Beautiful New Mexico a Southwestern home  is found





~This was inspired by Brian….and his Cameo piece~I hadn't used or seen the 
word KAOLIN in some time...and it reminded me of the west....hence, I used the 
word first and went from there~ 


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A Lightening Bolt

A bolt-on accessory capable of being
Bolted to truck without crumbling
One like a thunder bolt rumbling
On a hundred distant track

This thunder bolt is a super machine of sorts
Perfected into a system of receptacle ports
Bolt is an example of that perfection

Bolt has legs rather than tyre pegs
A perfectly sculpted knees rather than alloy wheels
Boltedly stable, dependable, reliable, efficient and magnificent
Technologically cutting-edge and blisteringly fast
Reminding all a 9.68 times past

A Ferrari ready to stand against the all deadly-bolted thunder
Mind you, humble not the thunder whose bolt you hear rumble
A gun boomed and rumbled all around
A swift bolt rumbles out of the blue
Vroom vrooom vroooom vrooooom……. A thunder bolt machine

Speed is his thrill
A lightning bolt more than a Ferrari?
Mind boggling, intriguing, captivating
Mr. Thunder Bolt you left a trail of devastation
What is your destination?
"An Olympic vacation sir, a trip from Kingston to London to blaze a new world record"
Well-done Mr. Thunder Bolt! See you again in Rio de Janeiro


Details | Free verse | |

Food for Thought

After Eight Mints
Anchovies
Apple Pancakes
Applesauce
Atlantic Cod
Barbecue Sauce
Black Bean Soup
Blue Cheese
Blueberry Pancakes
Brussels Sprouts and Lamb
Buttermilk
Caribou Liver
Carrots
Cauliflower
Chicken Breast
Chicken Patty
Chicory Roots
Chocolate Pudding
Chocolate Pudding !!!
Cinnamon Raisin Bagel
Coffee Cake
Coleslaw
Donkey Balls
Dried Plums
Durian Fruit
Garlic
Garlic Roast Chicken
Green & Yellow Peppers
Green Leaf Lettuce
Grilled Cheese
Hamburger
Hashed Brown Potatoes
Honey Pops
Horseradish
Iron Steak
Jellied bouillon with frankfurters
Jelly Sandwich
Marinara Sauce
Melba Toast Crackers
Milky Way Bar
Mozzarella Cheese
Muffins
Onions
Pasta Shells
Peanut Butter
Plain Bagel
Pot Pie
Potato Medley
Potatoes
Queso Asadero
Salisbury Steak
Shredded Gruyere
Shrimp
Smoked Chicken Sandwich
Smoked Ham
South-western Sandwich
Turkey Pastrami on Rye
Waffles
Weight Watchers Chicken Enchiladas
Whole Wheat Bread


He comments Beuys’ art
they hang to his dentalia
in slimy appearance
menus on wrapping paper

then

note the mental thing
yes, yes, he said so,
and where are the nuts
the crackers, the slow food

crisscross
crosscriss

a cookie with my coffee
still harvests thoughts
wrong war thoughts
so wrong during the war

November sun

warms a sanitary finger
and goldfish in my hand
hidden under fallen leaves
in brown memories

alma


Explanation
              Joseph Beuys is a controversial artist, one of his
              works is called 'food for thought'.  I saw this at
              the museum of psychiatry when I guided some folks;
              theme of the exposition was  "lost in memory".
              Next to the museum is the garden where 3 of my
              sculptural works can be visited. We did so.


Details | Free verse | |

The Long Walk

As we walk through life forget all the hard times,
we remember what we were taught, 
and how hard our parents fought,
for us to live the lives they couldn't ever imagine to have.

We walk through this world with a few good friends, 
a shelter, and a god given plan. 
to be the best we can, no matter how hard,
to make the right moves, as we walk through the dark.

As we walk through the trials of pain and defeat, 
we soon realize, it takes more to be beat,
we built up our guards, and made up the walls,
so what's stopping us, from moving on through it all. 

We walk through this life, with love in our hearts,
a notion of what love is, but never a real sense of how it starts,
we fight for our passions, others break down our walls,
we let everything go, just to give a person our open arms.

Because, as we go through this world,
all its hardships and trials,
we learned our ways, our manors,
and walked the long miles,
to get to a place, where we can finally lay down our heads,
open our hearts, stop our motionless hands,
and rest in the dark.


Details | Free verse | |

The Path


Oh, long ago secluded path
   On through the green wood ambled

Winding, winding evermore
   Through brush and forest bramble

By stream and silent meadow
   Its onward course did wind

Forward, forward deep
   This path of no mankind


Details | Free verse | |

At World's End

At the end of the world I find a place full of everyone's problems to hide my mistakes in total solitude my thoughts become clear my mind is a cave filled with wonder of fear in this dark recession of oppressed memories I escape all the pain by forever running right off the radar the facade crashes down and I see me, the way I really am Worthless, useless, pointless and pathetic the load lessens greatly as I learn to accept it the feeling is beautiful I never want to escape I own my ugliness making yours seem so fake its fate, ever so present taking all into stride has never been as pleasant At the end of the world, voices chatter, unheard choice is just a word to a prisoner of destiny the reason is everything and everywhere but everyone is too busy to notice, or care too busy to love, with much time to hate running faster in circles until the harmony breaks then shoot out straight surprised to be falling down into darkness the last friend still calling.


Details | Free verse | |

A Summer Night on the Bayou

The moon seems at rest
behind the tree branches
where sits a large owl
perched in silhouette
against its gentle glow.

An occasional splash
can be heard in the bayou
across the roadway
which glimmers like the stars
with moonlit serenity.

Nights warm summer blanket
settles in with nature providing
a clicking nocturnal chorus
reverencing the close 
of yet another day.

Enjoying the solitude
with a pensive afterglow 
of contentment
thankful for the blessings
God has bestowed.


Details | Free verse | |

My Prayer

“Im standing on the side of the road,
Leaning against my car.
I can look far,
Cars comes by,
But I don’t say hi
Im staring at the sky.
It’s a beautiful sunset
You can still see the mountains.
The sky is orange, gray and blue.
There are a couple of stars,
But there where one
It was the brightest one from them all
And I wondered……………wondered ,
if that was my sign.
I read what I wrote,
And felt something in my throat.
I realized it’s time to pray.”
DEAR GOD 
PLEASE FORGIVE ME FROM ALL MY SINS.
PLEASE SAVE ME FROM THIS.
HOLD YOUR ARMS AROUND ME.
PLEASE LEAD ME ALL THE WAY.
“I felt this warm feeling around my body,
And I knew HE was waiting for this.
My smile came back,
This is my second whack.


Looking up at the dark sky
Looking at that bright light.
And all I could say was”
THANK YOU LORD
AMEN





Details | Free verse | |

A Man of Few Words

Come out of the church
			To the open air
					With dancing 
sunbeams about the streets
		I told him to come, to come into sight
			He yelled back to me, “I’m allergic to the light.”

I saw him swing on the bars
		Like an agile young boy
			                                     His looks deceive him, 
his age does not suit him
		I said, “Come out, do not wait for the night.”
			He said, “I can’t, I’m allergic to the light.”

	                                Long knotted hair the length of his back
            Dressed in wool sweater and baggy brown slacks
		Covered in sand from a play in the park
I tried to clean him up but he stayed in the dark

			The flash of a camera or the ray of electric
		He curls up into a ball, with nothing but fear
                 So I said, “Face your fears, do not give into fright.”

One last time he insisted, “I’m allergic to the light.”


Details | Free verse | |

The Bus (8x4)

Just standing here
Waiting so long
Freezing my buns
Hoping it comes
Look at the time
Must get to work
It 's awful late
Where is the bus?

© Joseph, 10/21/07
© All Rights Reserved

8x4 Syllable Sentence: 8 Lines of 4 syllables. 
Created by Alvin Othto Stewart


Details | Free verse | |

A DAVID FOR DAVID

This is a dedication to David Williams
for his indomitable courage 
and goodness of heart. 


Michelangelo's hands created
the immortal David:
a young and handsome man
so masculine and vibrant...
as he it looks straight at us
desiring to join the Human Race!


Did a real person pose 
for the Master? Was he one 
of his scholars? We wouldn't know,
unless he himself spoke!  
Alone as a stone stoke by sunlight,
his muscular body stands out...
were all men in that brilliant age
as strong as he was?


We stare at this amazing statue,
and ask ourselves why he looks too real;
did Michelangelo, overwhelmed by incredibility,
strike him with his chisel and said, " Come alive? "


We wonder and doubt if this ever
crossed his genius mind 
in a moment of madness!
Most certainly, Michelangelo
carved him out of a fine marble
to reminisce his youth
lived as a boy such as David...
but is truth a fact that can be denied?
 


Details | Free verse | |

Border area (Grenzgebiet)

"This bilingual poem is for people who live between two borders and who have two decide
everyday how to manage their day between bombs and hatred, even if they want to live in
peace."


>Grenzen<
erscheinen grenzenlos,
wenn grenzenlose Wut
gebieterisch Hass schürt
und sich dennoch
ehemals begrenzte Gemüter
dem Grenzfreien öffnen,
um so die Grenzwälle
zwischen Grenzen zu sprengen,
um endlich grenzfrei zu sein.

>Borders<
seem to be boundless
if boundless rage
stirs up immeasurably hatred
and nevertheless
erstwhile limited people
open their minds for borderfree thinking
for blowing up the border walls
between frontiers
to be finitely boundless.


Details | Free verse | |

shannon's recourse

tick. . . tick. .  talk the time today
busy a great gather of 
basketed flowers
that might move us towards
great outlawed-metered parked cars 
ticketing themselves
and twist. . . twist your fire-hydrant wrist
while the streets look the other way
simple lack-luster 
awaits your perceptive 50’s point of view
but it’s all the daughters that decide
off which part of  concrete to part with
and wake up 
in which car to ride in


Details | Free verse | |

The virtual reality of marble spoon pancakes

imagine on your four walls
you have a digital picture frame
all set with the perfect timing
of a roller coaster ride
i know what i would do in myspace

vanishing101

Imagine a round treadmill
a rounded sort of platform
to stand on
and with the sensor hanging around your neck
the floor moves in the direction you face
the timing of the four movie screens coincide
with this picture perfect mindgame

i know what i would do in myspace

vanishing101

an innocent disaster
of a goose chase maze
when it rains it pours
and with the depth perception perfected
the four seasons rotating around you in your own living room

all for you to figure it out
a basement of your own virtual experience
that you will eventually owe me for
cause you know it started here
i know what i would do in myspace

vanishing101

The time machine begins
with your dance dance revolution floor mat
and it carries on with the sensors on the wall
that works your plastic guns
and allow the floor to move if you step toward the screen
always keeping you at bay

enjoy my suicide
day by day
knowing a homeless person
who should be a billionaire
i know what i would do with myspace

vanishing101


Details | Free verse | |

She flew in on a Sunday

She came to me.
Moving inside the winds of change and I saw her.

Opening my eyes wider than wide, 
a newness washes over me
as though the previous years just melted away,
into something more, something real.

Stumbling, the floor opens beneath me and, 
I'm falling
faster 
further
unaware of my directions, I fly to her.

Fear only exist in her absense therefore, 
I must clothe myself in robes of her spirit.
Her lips full, fill my daydreams,
Her eyes consume my nights.
The chess game of 10 years prior seem like an unessential waste of time 
Yet, it marks our story, 
traces our land,
flavors our history
Without it, she would be another's,
and I, 
would be caught in the wind of something else.

Something loud and noisy, 
empty of spirit,
closed to her and everyone else,
flying in circles, 
lost in living
without love, 
without passion, 
without life.


Details | Free verse | |

Navel Longings

The heat weighs the air down.. down...
 it say shoosh~ it seemed to steam 
as it wafted from white sand to damp the blue skies.
Long green frond's stir the scene mint in a julep glass.  
Quiet invades each opened pore at high noon
as the froth of salt foam caresses toes
and hollows the sand beneath 
somnambulant sun worshipers.
Gulls circle in silence
as beads of sweat roll from forehead
between the mounds of Aphrodite...
into the navel of longing.



*Woman God's gift to man


Details | Free verse | |

high on my shelf

Your picture sits high on a shelf 
out of daily sight 
out of daily thoughts
every now and then 
I pass it and look up 
I stop to think,
of times long ago
back when things were alright 
and you were my world.
It seems as though daily life 
has gotten in the way 
everything just becomes a blur.
Maybe I try to hard to make something out of nothing 
maybe that’s why you are high on this shelf 
or maybe just maybe I put it up so high 
to  know I can never reach it 
pull it down,
and try and clean it 
clean up the past and right the future 
 for maybe just maybe 
I like you high on this shelf 


Details | Free verse | |

Celestial Lakes

I wondered whether it would revive today,
the world I see from my awakened eyes,
In a solitude where I feel myself -
Being with the lofty peaks and crystal clear lakes,
Like a sole spectator living a life from his own reveries .
 
I wondered whether it would break the silence,
the crowd I augured from my sacred mind,
In a secrecy where I lived myself -
Being with the gentle breeze and fresh aroma,
Like a mortal living a life assuring his own regime. 
 
I wondered whether it would hastened the way,
the journey I accompanied with my soulful bliss,
In an isolation where I dwell myself -
Being with the tranquil ambience and free hemisphere,
Like a solitary traveler living a life with his own envies.
 
I wondered whether it would distanced my destiny, 
The place I reached with my heartfelt sympathy,
In a paradise where I reposed myself -
Being with my hermit soul and treasured wishes,
Like a deity living a life with his own blessings.


Details | Free verse | |

Watching Memphis

Through the window, I watched
the first city lights grow restless at dusk
I counted them among stokes of colour-
A hint of magenta in lazy blue
Shining-
along the bank of the Mississippi

A few tall buildings etched the horizon
Like a walled fortress of shadow and sun
Lining-

And some with glass windows
mirrored the waning sun-
a gateway, a mirror.
We crossed the bridge traversing the river
Lighting-
the waters along the bank of Memphis.

I watched, and knew how quick
the road, the evening would carry me on.
But still I let down the window,
Breathing-
the scent and sounds of the city,
and caught the music floating down
along the banks of the Mississippi.


Details | Free verse | |

Abeeku

Abeeku stole a bright, gold watch from
the busy shop in the market. 
The shopkeeper 
saw him slip the watch into his waistband -
chased him, yelling and gesturing,  “?? ,?? “ Thief, thief!”

The crowd caught up -
surrounding Abeeku
in the middle of the street.
 
They beat him.
Someone slipped an old tire over his head, 
and another 
and another helped 
pull the tire over his arms
pinning them to his side.

The shopkeeper picked up the watch
its crystal broken and 
its case scratched and split.
He put it on his wrist and
joined the chant, “Thief, thief.”

A boy pressed through the throng 
with a tin of petrol, 
pouring it over Abeeku’s head.

A shadow offered matches 
and Abeeku was covered in flame
at dusk
while the African sky 
was ablaze 
in red and yellow light.


Details | Free verse | |

Painting Stars, My Face on Mars

The day Galileo reaches the stars I will have transcended into the face of mars that your astonished is flattering its just an expression of my many its the same face I make every day open my mouth wide and scream in silent vain no one hears me I am unnoticed I close my petals as the lovely lotus I hold my breathe, I chose my moments I disappear like a dying rodent only to blossom, in pure distinction then fade back into wishful thinking I am no more worshiped as our forgotten sun so I leave this creation to the shining ones I void my purpose to unchain my soul I am fulfilled, more as I roam I have seen the planets near and far I have seen the newborn and dying star I have seen the black hole churn sands of time into new matter, through center, shine into the same matter, which bleeds through me you may find me painting my new galaxy don't lose hope, my unknown friend this power, universal... if you don't limit it


Details | Free verse | |

Just a day in a New England town

In this place I passed today
Were the many faces unknown to me
From the corner of my eye I spied 
A man of strangest seemingly so out of place 
He walked with his head drawn down as though he meagerly disgraced 
Out of smiles sternly wearing a frown
He wears a long black coat with a candy cane scarf
A dark cowboy hat with a destination amongst the breezes
With his hands in his pocket hunting for keys  
Plumes of dried street salt sailed into the air
All over the buildings and cars, all over his hair
Late winter days pass so slowly 
Waiting for the endless borage of last minute snow 
Cars coated with dirty city street grime
The harshness of this winter victims of time 
And time as such will pass over this season 
Bringing along the vernal equinox with a view far more pleasing 

 
 


Details | Free verse | |

Images of Cotton Plantations

How beautiful are the creations,
that are beyond all explanations.
What lies forever of foundations,
the very majestic plantations.

Voices of opera soaring high in the wind.
The harp and piano linger at the end.
The southern climate in the spring will bring,
field hands ready for cotton picking.

Blooming white cotton fields in the sun that glimmer,
near the muddy Mississippi River.
Cotton wagons loaded with cotton bolls. 
Down the Mississippi the river boat rolls.

Gardens of flowers, red roses, and jasmine.
White doves gathering near the fountain.
The muddy river for irrigation,
horse drawn carriages for transportation,
are might fine images of great plantations.

A morning cloud of fog covers the lawn.
Planters in straw hats awake before dawn.
French doors open to the morning breeze.
Echoes of children and what they see,
hummingbirds, honeysuckle, and honeybees.

The very grand columns that hold the balcony high,
overlook the plantation for miles wide.
Golden curled ladies gather the veranda sitting in rosewood chairs,
for coffee, beignets, and jasmine sweet air.

From the grand house high on the hill,
a heron next to the spinning windmill.
A romantic oil painting is on display,
of a bride and groom on their wedding day.

In the background is the huge oak tree,
the frame made of mahogany.
Picnics under huge oaks streaming with moss,
images of plantations will never be lost.

The stairway leads to very grand rooms.
French windows open to the light of the moon.
The river reflects the history,
of cotton plantations along the Mississippi.
The people hold on to this grand memory.


Details | Free verse | |

Picture Perfect

Take a picture. 
Halfway between, two extremes, film exposed to light; 
Corrupt or cleansed, shaking hands, or about to fight. 

Make a picture. 
Roll film right back, start again, I am what you see.
More film to load, left alone, so many stills to be. 


Details | Free verse | |

Hard Crawl

This sad tale I tell.
Of water with smell,
One day running,
Took hard fall,
Ended in a crawl,
Next smelled the odor,
Looking up and saw,
Outhouse bottom.



1. This
2. Sad
3. Tale
4. I
5. Tell
6. Of
7. Water
8. With
9. Smell
10. One
11. Day
12. Running
13. Took
14. Hard
15 fall
16. Ended
17. In
18. A
19. Crawl
20. Next
21. Smelled
22. The
23. Odor
24. Looking
25. Up
26. And
27. Saw
28. Outhouse
29. Bottom


Details | Free verse | |

After the War

 After The War
 Wiesbaden 1946

 From dawn to sunset 
walked the day.
over the scattered ruins of 
broken promises.
Searching, to find 
piece by piece.
The day is short 
and the pieces are many.
Be aware-don’t let 
tomorrow pass by.


Details | Free verse | |

Life On The Street

Dried up like a reservoir
In the mid summer heat
The cracks in the ground
Are like
The life lines, upon my face
I have weathered many a storm
As if
I have lived a 100 lifetimes,
Instead of one! 

Bare, rough, dirty feet
Shoes are hard to come by,
These days
Unless, I steal them!
But, then I will become a target
Having something new
It will get stolen from me
By some other gang
Or by some cruel and nasty person!

“Bare feet it is!”
“Less problems, this way!”
Feet are made for walking
I will use them
For what
They are made for!
“Now let’s get something to eat, I am starving!”

Loitering around Hungry Jacks and Macca's
Asking people 
As they walk out
With their hot, delicious, fresh food
For a gold coin or two
Dumpsters and bins
Look nice, today!
Only half eaten, stuff
A lot of wastage!
“Not the freshest stuff, but hey!”
Make do, with what we have!

The sun is shining today
Not sure where to wash though...
Water is scarce, thank god for public toilets
They sure come in handy!
They say it is fun
And you are lucky to have freedom!
But, 
It is a lie we tell ourselves
To remain ignorant
To pretend, we don’t give a damn
But, inside, 
We really do!

For you see ,
There are sacrifices
To the choices you make
When you have to live them, out
“Don’t be a fool!”
Life is no fairytale, on the dirty streets of hell!

During the day, 
The city lights up
It glitters 
As if
It were made out of gold!
It comes alive with people
Rushing here, rushing there, rushing everywhere
Not really knowing, what 
They are presently, doing 
People reminding me of robots, sheep and zombies
Acting as if they are in control of everything
When in fact, they are not!

"Who knows what is around the corner?"
"What is coming, your way!"
Life is unpredictable,
"Beware!"

“Don’t be mislead by the fakes, around here”
“There is plenty of them!”
Eyes are on you,
Down every alley way
Standing on every corner
Watching you
"You, are in ‘our territory’ now!"

“Hold onto your bags tight!”
For, 
I may be lurking behind you
One minute there,
Next minute gone!
It is the nature of the game
As
I snatch and grab your bag
When I see you off guard
Taking your money
Claiming it, as my own
You see,
I need it to survive on!
I'm banking on you, being rich!
I told you
This place is a hell hole
And, 
I meant it!

This dark place
Full of shadows and conscious deceit
Will swallow you up 
Eating, you alive!
You will lose your way
In its pit of endless darkness
There is no Prince Charming’s, out here!
There is no one to save you
There are only damsels in distress
Like me!

No one
Comes to your aid
When you need it the most
You could diminish and disappear one day
Within a blink of an eye!
Without a hint 
Nor trace of you, left behind
No one will see it happen
Because
No one
Opens their mouth up, around here!
So,
Love and appreciate, one another!
Care for yourself and care for others!
Tell your loved ones 
'you love them' often
And,
‘Enjoy' 
The home, you live in!


Details | Free verse | |

Past Love

In awe of him I stared as if he a mountain
of grey glaciers where black butterflies
drooped wings eyelids of the miserable mourner
our wasted limbs entwined, celtic knots half drawn
wilted wanderers wanting a feather bed
on which to lie, under glinting satin sunsets.


Details | Free verse | |

Chichester Ship Canal

As silent and twinkly as a clear night sky
a wonderful place to allow time to race by
the old chichester ship canal from years gone bye
such serenity upon my doorstep
the greatest thing since fresh baked bread
until the railways knocked it dead
now forms a floral faunal retreat instead
where the bikes weave and the people gently tread.
The basin resides at the southern tip of town
a little bowl catching rain when it's falling down
swelling from the river Lavants slight gush
pretty lazy river, been years since it were flush
and rapid-like would it rush
while the cities Romain (or is it Romane??) remaining draining
it's severely waning, showing signs of straining.
Wandering along the old tow-path
sounds from the ducks remind me of a laugh,
the wise old Heron on a fishing trip
gets to take a twilight dip
and accompany his dinner with a long dropped chip.
Facing to the sea with misty downs behind
through the little Hunston twisty round wind
carefully listen, no busy sound find.
This winter, the water, it's frozen so thick
resisiting even a hard thrown brick.
The poor hungry birds who always run away
fear has gone, replaced by hunger, they come to me today
I empathetically hear every word they say!

Peacefully the canal flows silently
Peacefully the canal flows Solently!
©John-Ovan.P.Hull


Details | Free verse | |

BIG APPLE

                      
You walk fast 
New York,
Heavy stampede
Steps
The concrete ground
You stand.
I married you
In April,
Costly 
Earsplitting
Streets 
Awaken me.
Global breath
Aromas
Vibrant
Sparkling eyes 
Vanished evermore. 
I’m back,
We have matured.


Details | Free verse | |

DECASTICH-THE WISEST ONE

Seeing others doing harmful things,
excessively drinking and using hard drugs,
I say this road is the wisest one
a very prudent individual could ever take, 
hoping that nobody will lay flowers 
on that spot, where a horrible crash may occur.
Perhaps I've been too cautious...
when it comes to save what I hold most precious,
not afflicting useless pain on my body;
only praying to God to safeguard me. 


This afternoon, I visited my niece Crystal in Elmurst Hospital,
as she and her four friends were involved in a bad accident;
the driver, who had a legal alchool level in her blood, crashed 
into a light pole last Sunday morning; were they all drinking?
That's a mere speculation, but this kind of behavior is common
among teenagers; Asia, the driver of the car, is into a coma slowing improving. 
Crystal has a broken leg and fractured pelvis, begging nurses for help; 
and she is in acute pain and can hardly breath. Elisabeth is on a respirator...
due to a blood clot traveling to her lungs; the other two girls have minor injuries.


What does it take for irresponsible drivers not to be under the influence....
avoiding the mourning of a dear one, or even losing their own life?
Not many folks will heed this message...until they face death,
and nothing can be done to prevent them from diying.
Trongs of visitors crowd the hall, to inquire about their condition;
they hear their agony and are unable to help...ah, if they ever could!
So will you take that path which is the wisest one to avoid a possible tragedy,
or continue defying fate until its awfully late to enjoy a full life?
Their parents are as helpeless as I, but our faith makes hope grow...
that these kids will finally understand that a second chance is not given to all.



This horrible accident happened in Woodhaven, Queens, NY on August 15, 2010.


Details | Free verse | |

Carmen Electric

I'm ripping out my lungs
So breathing isn't labored
Not for my sake
But for the gentleman
Laced with bowties

I'm hunched over the bus seat
Spilling blood
Back into the cup
Reminding the window
That my hand still exists

The world doesn't care
For my diaphram leaping
Or my feet sketched skidding
All they wanted
Was my skeletal mass
Grounded for cocaine
That is sniffed in opera boxes

This word
Will never change,
So why should I?

I dot care if I stain plush seats from golden gates
I'm finished playing fair
They took him
Growing inside of me

It's only prin pricks
Along their toe nails


Details | Free verse | |

WALKING ALONG THE BEACH

Walking along the beach on a Saturday morning
I can see the sun smiling from the horizon
The weather is cool and the water is calm
I can feel the gentle hands of sea breeze caressing my face
There are so many people doing different activities
Men and women lying in their shorts and bikinis ready for sun bathing
Young boys and girls in the water swimming and having fun
Little kids on the beach building castle of sand
The dogs are running around barking wildly in excitement
Where ever i look i see beautiful people with smile on their pretty faces
Life seems so perfect just walking along the beach on a Saturday morning.


Details | Free verse | |

By the lily pond

How beautiful it was when the sun shone
And I walked with you,my dear husband, through the gardens.
How happy I was to sit with you by the lake
and to hear the water from the fountain splash.
It's our our favourite music now we cannot visit the sea
To hear the tide rush in,then fall sucking on the shingley beach.
But I see it in my minds eye.
Aldeburgh,the fishing boats go out at sunrise.
I awoke early and saw the sun across the sea
and the boats setting out in the soft light.
Dunwich,the heath filled with birds
the cliff and the beach where sometimes one can find marble
from one of the many churches washed away by the encroaching sea.
And Southwold,the marsh so quiet I heard crickets.
We went across the Blyth in the rowing boat
And saw the place from which our picture of Walberswick was painted...
If only life could be captured,slowed, for a few minutes
for us to receive the beauty and hear the sound of the sea
The everlasting music of the heart


Details | Free verse | |

This Small Town

As I view flat prairie with mountain range beyond, morning sunshine warms me
and I know by afternoon, fierce storms may gather without warning.
I envy not the urban dweller rushing to and fro amidst stark cement barriers.
Yes, small town life suits me…

I’ll not trade nights laying head on pillow as moonlight pierces the darkness 
and coyotes cry to the far reaches like their ancestors before…No, never!
I could not, would not, give up the freedom found in these open spaces
where peaceful Amish plow behind horses harnessed in leather strap.

I proudly tell inquisitors, I met my husband dancing at the old grange hall,
then settled on the ranch his kin claimed and worked three generations back.
I feel safe, protected here among friends in this quaint little town.
Crime is not a factor—not a priority one deals with on a daily basis.

Trips to market bring no snarled traffic, no changing lights of red, yellow, green. 
Welcome is felt, not heard from silent voices behind familiar smiling eyes.
On unpaved roads I return as dust fills nose and eyes, making me sneeze
but it’s joy rather than nuisance as I jog along in our old pickup truck.

Here the family is strong, unified—respect for elders required,
blending generations of those who tamed the land before us.
Sunday church services overflow with scrubbed and shining faces
as preachers spread harmony and warnings from the Good Book. 

Camaraderie and sportsmanship are taught in this small town.
Proud parents gather in crowds to support their team at each and every event.
Discipline and morals form traditional characteristics of the region,
and authority is respected on all levels, patriotism honored.

Our children do not stray to the bright lights of the city
vandalizing, joining lost souls seeking acceptance on mean streets.
Early evening sounds of slumber echo thru’ thin walls of this old farmhouse
for morning chores greet our kids, us, in this game of sweet survival.

No, I do not envy city folks or opportunities I may have missed therein,
nor do I allow them to bring me scorn, or take pity on my soul.
I gain my worth from one greater, wiser, more forgiving than mere mortals…
I hear the voice of my Creator, and I follow where He leads.


Details | Free verse | |

Asquith Street, Jones Town

A long spine of asphalt, sizzling black
The macka back cart rumbling
On the morning nerve, herring sprat
Is high life some days in this place
Across the street the bakery
Up the street the parrot teaching me to curse
The hollow determination in any face
For we were all connected by a common shame
The sense that here was the bottom
And our pain was those on top of us
And zinc fences surrounding us
In the prison of our dream.

I was the child at the back of the crowd
After the evening prayers
And the rush for freedom
From the classroom corals that punished our desire
To find our own direction amidst the squall
Of trickery and gun fire ... 
I was the child like a raggamuffin on the street
The distractor so my friends could cheat
Mr Bola of his dumplings
My pocket tell the truth of grease in them
I was the child stoning the mango trees
And then close to my gate ... drop back, boy
Behold, out of me a muted lamb appear

I remember, Mrs Donaldson, Byfield
And the tall wall, high as the East Indian tree
I remember Scott, Penley
The girl who almost stole my virginity
And long not now my inocense to keep
What joy for it I could have reaped
But I had neither asphalt nor concrete
Not backbone 
Not knowledge of self, no longing for a me
While England's song I hummed those days
And mother's voice was my leash.
I could break on law
Without my brother's raw anger, the basket of his pride
The tamarind switch, my burning skin
The street at noonday filled with din
Firm as a cross
And I wandering it bewitched and lost.


Details | Free verse | |

A Walk in Paris

Beside the Eiffel Tower, 
I walked alone;
and gaped at gardens
with cherry-hued blooms.
My lips had felt
the warmth of brew, 
while seraphs played
the strings of harp.

I toured the city, 
the parks as well; 
I watched the sun
as it bade goodbye.
The sky, though black, 
was filled with gems: 
luring my eyes, 
winning my heart.

-thanks to Frances Angela Torrelavega for having this poem edited


Details | Free verse | |

Little Refuge

Little girl goes down to the water.
Little girl climbs up the hill.
Little girl wanders in the woods.
Little girl collects little things.

Creatures and curiosities.

Puts them in her pockets.

Skipping and running and playing at hunting.

Now and then she stops, and rests.

Her every heartbeat,
her every breath,
conspires with the fragrant moist air,
the rocks and the trees,
to forget her home.

There she waits before the sunset.

She waits as long as she can.

Oh, how precious is this place.

Her refuge.

To the sea and the hills. . .
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.


Details | Free verse | |

PLAN A frica

PLAN A (frica)   
                                                                     
Such splendor 
      Gazelles by the thousands, flawless
       Springing into green and golden dawn
Staggers the thought
Sucks the air
        Roars lion thunder, roars again---- sated, delighting
        Cubs cuffed for bothersome nips
Grabs the gut
         Night drops under a falling dome of star sky
         suddenly --no warning to bid adieu the sun

Such magnificence declares:
 Big Bang was just plan A
       more to come


Details | Free verse | |

The City

 The City

Brazen horns protest each others presence
Steam rises from beneath the tarnished streets
Taxis tease with flags that say "off duty'
And in the shadows grifters ply their trade

A cacophony of smells assault the senses
Windows dressed up to seduce the eye
Breezes brush against you with a stale breath
Cracked sidewalks yielding to your tread

Isolation in a sea of people
Buildings clinging tightly to each other
Sirens scream the news of unknown victims
The city owns your soul, it lives inside


Details | Free verse | |

Blue Jean Moon

 there's a blue jean moon 
  out there tonight 
   you know, the one that's got 
    that look in its eye 
     like it's got 
      a million places to go 
       and it doesn't know 
         where to start 
          or who to call first 


Details | Free verse | |

The Insufferable History of a Place

Sitting on a sun-ripened block
colossal.
Sitting in the sun again
I try to control
and strip my clothes,
look my best
for the Colossus of Rhodes.

If I could be satisfied and told
of a refresh of feeling and sense:
the intimacy of this heat.
If I could be battered and rolled
and leavened like sourdough-

but this is mine alone.
The uneventful cold
and safety of home is lost
to the North – these outside rooms
make me sweat and slow

this feels nothing like a room,
nothing like the bold industry
of an air-conditioned hole,
and I have never been so wet
and on display;
this is more the lucid glass
of an inveterate fishbowl.

Above me,
the canopy bails out sun
and fights and tries to fill
this bloating, oily green:
a raging furnace burning fervent
with windows, door and roof
open to the colder night.

But wind cannot displace the intimate sun,
the leaves cannot shade,
and what shade remains
will not guard
against the Yard’s invective gaze.


Details | Free verse | |

My Imagination

Thoughts going miles away,
Catching up with the dusk of dawn.
Exploding with colors of the Northern Lights.
Speaking with their own tone,
As it spreads,
Like the cold you get,
That seems to haunt you for countless hours.
The trees growing leaves,
The ocean taking a rest brake on the shore.
The colors in the sky,
Getting the blues from the misery of unknown souls.
Turning to thick black,
Hiding all the pain.
Rain running down,
As the tears get absorbed into the land above.
A shudder thrill,
Pinching your stomach as something great has happened,
As if feelings,
Is the only thing that effects anyone anymore.
My imagination,
Creating the world.
Drawing  out the map,
That I yet, still follow.


Details | Free verse | |

Glistening Light

Glistening mantras of light 
                            ......shining
         Falling 
                        ........on blankets of fresh snow
Becoming a frozen tundra of  
                                 .......miraculous gems

Nature's plethora of snowflakes sparkle
                                          .....Refracting light 
                     ........forming a shield

How generous is our maker 
                          .......meticulously thorough
Nebulous heaven appears 
                  .......knowingly unseen

Releasing light from shining sun 
                                 ......and moon 

Earth forever full of lights and truth glistening


Details | Free verse | |

Dance

My baby
My precious
My warm and glowing light
I cannot seem to sleep at night
For dreaming while I'm awake.

I dream of the kindness I see in your eyes
And I yearn to be able to hold you.
I dream of what Dubai is gonna look like
And how happy I think I'm gonna feel
Complete.
Content

Radiant.

Over and over I say your name, and only because it brings its you I've fallen in love with.
Suki
My Suki
You
are my
Suki!
Lol, my friend I can't say it enough and I absolutely love it.
Love you.

Aw man, if ever there were words, I'd sing them to you.
If only there were actions that showed you strong enough, I would do nothing else but
dance them for you.

But let me tell you this, my sweet love.
I have my whole life to sing
My whole life to dance
My whole life to dream.

And I want nothing more than to spend my life doing those things with you.


Details | Free verse | |

City Street Blues

salty blues
and Saturday’s news
begs the difference between
the candlelit alters
and the sunlit corners

where the timid mingle
with insane masses
of different classes
and intellectual
solace
is revealed in song

the rhythm of 
empty bucket drummers
sets the pace of the 
blind blues hummers
and the picking of eight
year old prodigies
of the jazz guitar

imitations of statues
from silver to copper
surprise the passersby
as the light reflects
in a down turned eye
to where the hungry
sit and cry

the money jingles in pockets
of consumers
and blends with the beat of 
air brake pauses
mixed with the cries of children
and the laughter of hookers
and the heartbeats
of peddlers
with maps to the stars

yes the blues is fluid
and flows in city streets
among the down and out
and the up on their luck
with those chasing the Jones’
and those making ends meet
the blues is like breathing
and refreshes in every breath
as the equality of rhythm
leads each to their death
and the beat goes
on and on


Details | Free verse | |

Redecorating

These walls are gathering together, closing with damp farewell embraces. 
The yawns of previous occupants echo through linoleum: my home of all places.

Visitors come and go, footprints on concrete pathways smoothed over by later settlers.
Redecorating the past has never been so easy! The wind carries whispers of meddlers

But that’s easily solved; double glazing for the coming winter of discontent.
Yet still no snow falls for these ghosts. The fireplace has changed; it’s been bent,

Replastered and stoked and ready for the fuel of future memories not yet made.
Still the ceilings creak inwards, the weight of countless children who played

By careering down hallways; Old clocks ticking. Shop-bought curtains are drawn 
On the sunsets of men, forgotten are we all in the flick of a signature pen,

Contracted to paint another’s elapsed timeframe. Perhaps a new extension, dear?


Details | Free verse | |

CANYON DE CHELLY MEMORIES

Canyon winds caress the soul
Grazing sheep warm the heart
Dine' children play in the creek
childish giggles that make us laugh 
With you here beside me
The journey begins
The horses nicker
breaking the silence 
Silence wraps around us, 
Mother Earth holding us to her
As we journey deeper 
Ancient drums begin to stir
Can you hear the Ancients calling?
Welcoming us to the tribal fire
Dancing in celebration of our Love 


Details | Free verse | |

Raining Bullets & Blood

I suggest,
You leave while you can,
This city is filled to the brim,
Everyone wants to win,
When they lose themselves-
In the end,
The city,
It is infested,
Criminals roam every walk;
Non-reformed,
Never charged,
Or plagued with repetition,
One day,
A bullet will stray,
If I stay,
It might be me,
You see,
In Philadelphia,
It rains bullets,
Bullets and blood.


Details | Free verse | |

Unusual sources of inspiration

Well I wonder!
What, which inspires?
The bathroom door that collides with the wind
And exposes its guest?
Or the gaping window that
Gives peeping space for my neighbor’s eyes?
Is it the thick dried browned soap foams
On marbled wall, painted white by
Colors of many years?
Is it the tiled surface floor
Whose yellowness is turning brown?
Or the morning cold Well water?
Is it its impact on the body
Lukewarm from the heat of the night
And residues of mosquitoes in the bloodstream?
Or a token blessing of seasonless patronage
Of the shrine of showerers?
Well, I wonder!
What which inspires?
When every morning in the bath
 Songs dances, ideas run wild
And thoughts splash and flash
And poem like this
Find a space at the contours of my mind.


Details | Free verse | |

Odin's Birds/Walking the Wall

Pulled one perfect day from the heart of summer,
Went with my wife, the kids, a friend
Down to cruise the monuments
To study those menhirs we set for marking passage
Into collective memory.

We ascended the virile spire
Erected in honor of our ponytailed First Elect,
The children pleased to gaze out on a toy city below us.

We descended and walked down the long flat mirror of water
To where Lincoln, strong and sad in bronze
Sits forever troubled by his sundered nation
In his cool, dark, echoing vault.

Then lunch, and a visit to the commemoration of our most recent sorrow;
We cross over and walk the Wall.

     Row on row,
     Stark white upon shining black
     The rollcall of the dead processes by.

     It's crowded today, but no one speaks
     The silence here is a crashing thing that falls all around us
     As we walk and search
     Some for names, some for answers,
     Some for both, or neither
     Ourselves for I know not what.

And in the black
Flowing past the names, and names, and names
This perfect day hangs captured in its light:
Cotton clouds on blinding blue
Grass greener than new money
The faces of children, dogs
And a parade of young couples -
It all hangs there, flowing over the terrible list,
Reminding all how they should be here too,
Those not-so-long-ago lost.

But then, in a sense, they are here
And that's why the silence crashes so.

     58,000 empty chairs are here.
     58,000 phantoms,
     The Bad Conscience of a good nation.

     58,000 Not-To-Bes are here:
     Not-To-Be husbands, fathers, family, friends
     Not-To-Be Victories and Not-To-Be Dreams
     58,000 horrors of Loss.

In the midst of these shuddering reveries
My blissfully distracted 7 year-old son
Plucks a small, perfect feather off  the lawn,
As black and glossy as the wall itself,
And carries it idly along.



Once out, we stop to talk with one of the Fallen's many advocates,
A great Viking of a man who notices the feather
Who says right away,
"Ah, a raven's feather. Odin's birds, who bring him Wisdom and Rememberance."

I saved the feather, knowing what I do of ravens:
Those sombre, croaking birds,
First on the field after battle

I stroked its silky black and wished
Odin's birds would visit the common folk more often
And croak to us of Remembrance, and Wisdom.


Details | Free verse | |

Our Ride To The Moon

Let's go to the moon
And never look back
All of our troubles
Left behind
Let's start anew

As we ride on the wings of Pegasus
And drift through space
Nothing else matters
But you and me

Maybe in another place
Things will be just fine
Keeping with us all the memories
Of a life left behind



Details | Free verse | |

Zin

Pakistan is weeping now
weeping Burmese burnt dreams
weeping Cubans in Darfur
weeping Venezuelans
North Korea is weeping still
weeping Iranian uranium dream
weeping Chinese in Tibet
weeping Russians
the world wails
	    waning
and We sleep to dream


Details | Free verse | |

The Next Hill

The Next Hill

Leaving the city behind me
The lights disappear over the southern horizon
The sun has set in the western sky
The stars fill the sky before me
There are miles of pavement before me
I have no idea where I will end up
There is a slight glow in the sky before me
How long have I been driving?
It could be an hour
It could be most of the night
Am I even on the map anymore?
My GPS won’t even help
Somewhere out there is a city
Somewhere out there is a bed
For now I will just keep on driving
Putting more miles behind me
Looking forward to crossing the next hill
I fantasize over what I may find
Food or a woman to spend time with
A drink or two
Maybe just a bed
Whatever I find I may stop
I may rest my eyes for a few hours
Maybe I’ll just keep driving on
Travelling down that endless strip of asphalt
Looking for that next hill
Then I will stop, eat and sleep
Right after that next hill
So many miles away


Details | Free verse | |

jump rope

there’s a curve 
at the end of every sidewalk 
did you know every block’s 
measured by the lazy way a rope
skips and ponytails itself down its own street?
my, how my rope bends
alongside that straight line
six inches above what you call a ‘curb’ under my knees
falling and rising under my feet


Details | Free verse | |

Journey

Through the thick, transparent plastic
The ground drops,
And the sky rushes down
To meet me.
I stare as the cars get smaller;
Soon they are toys:
No bigger than a freckle.
The houses shrink, too,
Then the city.
Suddenly I can not see,
White is everywhere,
And then I am
Above the clouds
In this giant metal bird,
Soaring above the vast, untouchable tundra
That is beyond the window.
I sit back
And close my eyes, waiting.
Then I am looking again
Until I can not see,
And the sky is above me.
The cars are getting bigger,
The houses are expanding.
Then the ground rushes up to meet me,
And I am home. 


Details | Free verse | |

THE THREE STONE RING

Tiffany's rare creation is
an awesome three stone ring,
which a lucky girl proudly wears
strolling down 59th Street; 
and why was she so humbled 
when her fiance proposed?


He wasn't the handsome Prince Charming
offering her a castle with chests full of treasures,
only a simple life of pleasures: promising 
faithful love; and he didn't drive a Macerati
and owened a splendid villa in sunny Italy...
besides true kisses, happiness was a guarantee!


And she rubs it with a gentle cleanser daily,
to make it dazzle even more than gems;
oh, how beautiful is the three stone ring!
I waved at them them down Madison Avenue towards evening:
they hugged and smiled in a royal coach pulled by four white horses
that neighed loudly when pedestrains invaded their privacy!


A true princess she was indeed just by feel, not reality;
and it didn't matter how ordinary her life would be...
perhaps she was happy with the man of her dreams,  
showing a gentleness not seen in men hiding deceits!
Yesterday I met them again in Central Park...
as they tried to get closer to an adorable lark!  


Details | Free verse | |

Complaining

Complain. Complain; COMPLAIN.
They do it for all to see in disdain.
Drama, Drama, Drama, DRAMA,
Take it all back to your Mama.

Complaining about their job,
They hate it; They hate co-workers.
Getting angry, beginning to Sob,
They are all slackers and lurkers.

They Hate job; They get No satisfaction.
No benefits I receive as a Worker.
No one Here that meets Classification,
Yes, even my Boss completely Quirkier.


Complain, Complain, Drama AGAIN.
They do it everyday, Such A Sin.
Drama, Drama, Complaining to All,
Running, Running, to get another Call,

Why, Why do they stay To Complain?
They do it to be Unhappy in Vain.
Drama of Life, Work, just to COMPLAIN,
Needing Turmoil, DRAMA, on Their Brain,


Details | Free verse | |

Brothers Farewell

He stands tall
Against the wall
He's always been there
In some way or the other
He's my best friend
The time we spend
Will never be enough
Even when we play rough
He's leaving soon 
Im ever in such a maroon
I don't want to say good-bye
It makes me want to cry
He taught me to fish
I have but one wish
For him to be happy
Never for him to be unhappy
He taught me to fight
For every right
And never take anything for granted
He was amazing
Encluding when we were hell raising
He taught me everything I needed to know
He watched me grow
I sometimes took care of him
I went to his every whim
I would even answer to a bell
For this is my brothers farewell
Being with my brother kept me sane
With him leaving it feels somewhat wrong
It wont be for long
I will see him some 
He would drink his rum
As we sat on the beach
The sun just out of reach
Fishing away in Key West
This is the best
I feel truly blessed
To have such a brother 
Who sometimes hovers 
In my soul he will always dwell 
This is for you, My brother farewell


Details | Free verse | |

Deep of the Night

In the deep of night where shadows move, 
Come frightening things that creep.
Closet doors hide monsters galore,
That might find you as you sleep.
From under the bed, a frightening space, 
Is an opening upon a dangerous place.
Shadows advance to touch us in the twilight, 
We hear voices calling for our souls at midnight.
Each night the dark is uniquely it’s own, 
As mysterious and dangerous hands reach close…
Across the room they journey each night.
Moonlight brings fear and the unknown to light.
Terrors will seek you and not leave you in peace. 
Nightly, alone, you tremble and hide beneath the sheets.
Covers hold the terrors at bay with a flashlight to keep.
Nightlights help protect the floor, as you streak from the room.
Just recall, if you touch a shadow… along the way
The monsters will be there to take you away.
Getting to the bathroom can be a feat,
Remember your parents’ domain and room is the prize.
Within the deep of the night… it’s a safety zone…
To sleep in the arms of the ones that you... they love.


Details | Free verse | |

Cairo, Illinois

A block off the river
Just a step from the gutter
A bar that hadn't barred me, yet
I walked in for the first time
And knew I'd come home
A Lucy moment, lucid
In Cairo, Illinois
River town of bars and churches
One on every block
Like a chess match from hell
A queen in every bar
A bishop right next door
Pawns on every stool
Knights galore
I was the king of Cairo
My dive, The Castle
My move, fool's mate.

4/15/14


Details | Free verse | |

Home

     This is the place where I grew up.
This is where I took that first unsure step.
Right here is where I snuck  my first Love 
up to my room.
This wood and glass and cracking mortar 
makes not this a home
There were dreams and hopes here 
that hold these four walls together better than any bond.
Within these walls I have loved and laughed and cried.
Is this what  makes a home?
All of my hopes and dreams were born within these walls.
I have learned the lessons that made me a man
growing up in this abode.
Does the warmth and love and family 
make a place to dwell?
Then the answer clear came to me 
as i look at this house in disrepair.
I realize it's all the memories that make
this place of life a home.


Details | Free verse | |

Alone at La Fiesta Brava

I didn't want to attend that damned bullfight, but my girlfriends finally persuaded 
me, seeing as though I had grown weary of the lone traveler routine, continually
taking the path of opposition.

So, at three pm, I found myself walking into that sandy arena on that deceivingly 
sunny day.

I spotted the bull, so beautiful he was, and gazed into those big, brown eyes; for 
a moment, just a moment, he appeared to stare back at me.

The matador was as smooth as his red and black velvet jacket, elegant as his 
black bow tie, and for a moment, just a moment, I was infatuated by his dark skin 
and straight white teeth, especially when he smiled and kissed me softly on my 
tiny hand.

Many people, mostly visitors from other lands, applauded him, praised him for 
his bravery as he taunted the bull with his fiery, red cloak.

But then, how was this animal to understand his fate?

Perhaps his instincts informed him that he was trapped, that forcibly, he was 
compelled to defend himself.  Perhaps.

And he did.

Brutally beaten, I observed as he lay defenseless, body consumed by sand, 
sides heaving while the matador proudly raised his hand to accommodate the 
vigorous spectators; my friends cheered along with the crowd.


I cried.



Note:  La Fiesta Brava is Spanish for "the brave festival."






 






Details | Free verse | |

Caravan

Caravan, caravan,
taking me where e're you can.
A place to rest, relaxing, fun,
whether in wind, storm, rain or sun.

To go any where we want to roam,
to take a break away from home.
Be it inland, town, woods or sea;
hills or vales, you'll shelter me.


Details | Free verse | |

Everglades- a sentu

everglades 
the slicing sawgrass sways
paradise to the "gladesmen"
the caterwaul of a panther
swamplands
 


Details | Free verse | |

alternative

i remember those nights,
you showed up with your Russian haired hood,
it was as the restaurant at the end of the world,
more like a diner;
you don't remember,
you weren't always there.



it was the night i fell off the wagon;
the lady in red,
riding hood, you remember?--
the cloak and dagger ramble?
the first night i said, 'i love you,' in anger;
the next day you were all perturbed,
as you told me a few days later...



there were too many zombies
out on friday nights,
when we had our dates,
so i don't remember.
but i remember now,
i went there without you...



a darkish red reminded me of my nights with you,
a glowish fire over the surroundings,
that glowed a blue, on nights before,
but red with you.
you added an ember to my idleness.



i want to go on a roadtrip.
this is all a little premature;
any given night is not the same
when we just go on random
on a trip that never plans.



i have too much to say...
what i see,
to show you without
with you...
i had a lot more to say
'sgood i forgot.
so i don't ruin then, now.



i'm there without you.


Details | Free verse | |

Hail To Chile

Not 
Only
A
Poet
A
Diplomat
 A
Political 
Figure
But
Also
A
Nobel
Prize
Winner
For
His
Literature
Ladies
And
Gentlemen
Let's 
Give
A
Big
Applause
For
Mr
Pablo
Neruda


Details | Free verse | |

September 11, 2001

To those who have survived the New York tragedy
To all who have lost family and friends
To all of America united in grief
May it bring you some comfort in the days to come
To know that the souls of those lost to this tragedy
Soar with the Angels in the Heaven's above
As their spirits rise to unite in God's Holy Kingdom
May you find peace in knowing that your loved ones are resting
In the arms of our Heavenly Father
A life taken suddenly leaves no less to be remembered
For all life is to be valued as the most precious gift one could ever receive
Therefore, each day a life was given and lived
So to shall it be honored and remembered

Dedicated to the families and friends of those we lost on September 11, 2001


Copyright © 2001   Shari E Davis


Details | Free verse | |

Flowers on the Volunteers' Desk

Flowers are blooming on the volunteers’ desk:
Roses, carnations, a spring bouquet,
Dish gardens and gold mums (a more masculine look,
The florist said).
Blooming like a garden
Of well-wishes and sentiment,
Blooming here in the hospital lobby
(Well, after all, it is spring).
Each vase or container bears a card.
What is its destination?
The new mother in Maternity?
“Oh, how pretty,” as she nurses her baby.
Or the woman down the hall?
Whose baby died after a brief flicker of life.
That’s all she’ll take home (this time): flowers.
Maybe to the tough kid on the third floor?
It was just an appendicitis, “no big deal.”
Next week, (or the next), he’ll be back 
With his friends on Saturday night.
“Hey, look at his scar,” “Cool!”
Maybe that one goes to the old man,
You know, the one who’s dying of…something,
They don’t know exactly….old age?
He’d rather be at home in his garden.
A hospital full of people,
But only enough flowers
To cover the top of the volunteers’ desk.
How many patients, (impatient, really)
Will get nothing today?
Here come the couriers with just a few more.
“Let’s go…..hospitals are depressing.”
Even with (especially with) so many pretty flowers
Waiting on the volunteers’ desk.


Details | Free verse | |

Emptyness

Night By Night
Day by Day
My mine swirling in continous confusion
Searching for a soulful melody 
That would feel that empty position

A staircase that takes me to a place of no where
A door that is open
Though it does not promise a place of growth, comfort, and acceptance
Rather a place that is indescribable
No one person can describe its power

A place of silence
A noticable place of tranquility
But by creating its tranquility
The tranquility is disrupted
A place that controdicts itself

A place we all find ourself lurking upon
A road that we are forced to travel
Yet a choice that we make
A choice that will possibly lead us to self incrimination

A door, a room, a space that we are left to design
To alter, to perfect, to make a haven, a paradise
But by creating this paradise, we may be forced 
To fail, to die, to burn
And learn from previous mistakes

An oppurtunity to transform your world from
Inconsistancies and disappoints
To a world of 
Fortune and ultimate fame
Or easily vice versa

A key is offered unexpectedly 
Into this full but empty apartment
Of love


Details | Free verse | |

Grandma's Bathroom

Fragile paper, white and quite a shaper rolled into a round
On a rod of plastic, tumbled gently draping to no abound
In the toilet room; a violet bloomed where stray peddles were found
Upon the windowsill the sunny feel was warm and peddles browned

Grandma's bathroom, powder, perfume, and a glass for stray old dentures
Was softly messy, cluttered, prissy, and layered with eye-squenchers
Such as brassiers hooked on brass spearhead hooks and dental cushions too
And a girdle. Yet, handpicked myrtle and blue rugs brought my ease through 

The shower curtian caught the spurtin' water from the showerhead
In the tub a scrubber club with soft bristles hung tween silver knobs
In the thick steam the echos carried as I showered before bed
Sometimes the streams would mist the tissue then it would come off in globs


Details | Free verse | |

Sunset

A lovely sunset..
A state of mind for the
Truly inspired.
A night light for the 
Truly romantic.
Really stunning for the
Truly interested.
A real idea for 
True painters.
A gathering place for 
True couples.
A beautiful sight for
Truly anybody.
It differs, but is always
Quite a sight to see.
A seperation of 
Day and night,
Awake and asleep.
They turn a broken heart
To a new oppurtunity.
Strong, yet gentle,
They heal you but also
Leave you comforted.
It's not a surprise 
They remind me 
Of you.


Details | Free verse | |

Morning, St. George Island

A seagull alights on the broken dock,
dull grey feathers floating
in the thick Florida summer.
It cracks its beak, shrieks to the sun,

barely risen over the bayou.
Light glitters over sandbars, silty waters,
silver fish; light reflects
sky into sea, sea into sky.

A boat rocks on slight waves;
thick, strained rope anchors it to a sodden post.
Its deck is littered with soda cans,
empty sunscreen tubes, torn fishing line.

A door slams from the house by the road;
the seagull flaps away, startled,
leaves wisps of fuzz dancing in the air.
It disappears behind the dunes, a retreating ‘m’

on the horizon. Footsteps approach,
footsteps accompanied by soft giggles
and a pair of hands reaching
for the falling feathers.


Details | Free verse | |

Lonely Quest

Somewhere in the world
you walk alone;
I search every crowd
to find your face.
Perhaps we have passed
and never knew,
how close we had come
to earth-heaven and grace.


Details | Free verse | |

Direction

You can climb the sky,
I know better.
A ladder can get you far away,
so the ground is distant now,
you can go up and up,
you can scale the sky,
up to go where to go up,
and soon your heading down,
an effort to fly.
Head up, above that sky
but soon you're heading down,
what's up when the pull's away
soon to push the sky,
and your body sways,
a void of undefined.
Where is east, where is west,
the line is just too fine
I will just turn around.
Float around in your empty
space a notion not noted,
seems I have an up
anothers' down,
float in a void.
Tell me your plan
is it practical plain,
oh such a pain plain promise,
so plan to plain a pain
I can't find my east and west.
Walk to that sun,
float till the wings melt,
float on to your horizon,
float your plan away.
The ladder's too short,
need a few more rungs,
make plain your pain,
east and west find floating
to horizons plan painting
wax on those wings.
An endless sky made of
paper thin walls.


Details | Free verse | |

low winter sun

Blinded by low winter sun
that rakes the icy field.
I shield my eyes and view
each furrowed rut
cut stark in sharp relief;
each new line so dark.

I peer as dazzling light
lifts thinning mist
from ribs of frozen mud
and see each furrow's crest
capped with silver dust.

Like sea-spray
in the morning light
waves furrowed white.
Foam flecks the breeze
as blossom flecks the trees.
Spring is on it’s way
but will not stay.

Summer sun is high
and in the sky swallows gather, 
then depart. 
Rain clouds loom. 

Though spring has not yet begun.
I’m blinded by low winter sun.
 


Details | Free verse | |

Callous eyes

Callous 

Every tiny things matter in a young world, 
and then with callous eyes, he is used to pick
days and nights as they pass him, as they pass beyond.

Sometimes he panics, fears that she’ll go away 
and he won’t feel any ache, just be watching her
moving away, erasing; looking at the place
where she has been seen last; with covert anger.

A tiny butterfly flies, in and out, in and… 
the patch of rain raises smells, smells of musty dusk.
The callous eyes follow the hands clutching heart 
where past is blending in pains and agonies.  
=© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar


Details | Free verse | |

Paint the Town

I pause from painting a canvass of opinion, brush strokes colouring a solid red 
across the blank faces that warily observe. A compass points to the right (a dead
end) yet with no direction, escorting a stained brain in reverse: an unnatural place to start.

This taste is always freshest in the mouths of the hungry, which are forced to part
from an honest working voice to focus solely on the next meal. Who will stand
up to write THIS IS WRONG on Parliamentary walls to clear blinkered eyes? A hand

can paint and sculpture, but will also make a fist.  
A better world is open if we walk on through the mist.


Details | Free verse | |

Everybody Falls

On those lonely days,
When the sky is pouring rain,
You look out through haze,
And see memories that bring you pain

The only woman you hold dear,
Walked away and out the door,
You can’t help but shed a tear,
As you watch it all once more,

Oh, everybody falls sometimes,
From the high places in our lives,
We land down among our crimes,
The lies cutting just like knives,
We try to read between the lines,
Yet we all seem to shrink from our dives,
Yea, everybody falls sometimes,
From the high places in our lives,

The wind that chills you to the bone,
Will push you onward when you roam,
And when you’re weary and alone,
The fire still burns back at home,

When life gets you down so low,
Where you can’t even find your way,
Well I’ve been there and I know,
That tomorrow’s a whole new day

Oh, everybody falls sometimes,
From the high places in our lives,
We land down among our crimes,
The lies cutting just like knives,
We try to read between the lines,
Yet we all seem to shrink from our dives,
Yea, everybody falls sometimes,
But we all get on with our lives,

Oh, everybody falls sometimes,
But we get on with our lives,
Yeah we get on with our lives


Details | Free verse | |

Les Landes

The sun is caught in jaws of the strand -
a red ball tossed from sky to land.
Disembodied voices scratch and catch,

long limbs of sand shift and switch,
lion-tawny, and the rocks are spread like claws.
The sky is a huge blue roar.

Our sore, sun-scoured skin throbs raw.
The pines' dark fingers stiffen, shadow-shackled;
nose-prickling air acrid

with the resin of scorched trees;
dry husks of crickets scattered like dead shells beneath.
Our future darkens in the pine-pungent shade.

The silver sea glitters rapaciously,
how it creeps up silently -
a predator advancing

to maul the cone-pocked shore.
And we, too, are dismembered -
our linked finger closeness shattered,

blown apart by the landscape's hot breath;
remnants scattered to sea slaver, swallowed
by the metallic maw of the bay.



Les Landes is a resort on the Cote d'Argent (meaning 'silver coast') in south 
west France


Details | Free verse | |

Motif Crosses—Iconic Blast

Milieu iconography with flashing lights
Smokey gambling rooms—gang wars
Flashy suits and fedora hats in the fights
Neon signs flashing—this world is yours

Hey, get a name with the next phone call
Surely, he can’t really be all that rough
While hanging out in a flower shop stall
Like bowling pins fall he wasn’t tough

Whistling “Chi Me Frena?” surreal assassin 
As Shamrock night club they all shot up
Coin flipping henchman hell risky brazen
Bang—he won’t sip St. Peter’s golden cup

Crosses on bodies from iconic gun blast
Even barking dog can’t stop the tragedy
Tony’s sister like a baby’s toy dances at last
Just seems like a wild circle of comedy

Wearing a scar as one from the war
Nation’s shame 1932 gangsters shown
Killing people to take over, what for?
Whistling assassin your life is blown

© Joseph, 5/29/08
© All Rights Reserved

Honorable Mention
Super Slueth Contest
Fun Free verse on Movies
Sponsor: John Heck


Details | Free verse | |

ADVISE FOR GUYS BOUND FOR PATHMARK

I'm pushing this heavy cart 
without any strenght left,
and through isles swarming with shoppers  
I'm confused by the above signs;
I rush to the one I missed dismaying onlookers.
How can I be so forgetful...
shouldn't I have a list of all items
I use thoughout the week?
I admit that guys are different from gals
with their minds focus on household things!


Yes, we guys aren't as patient as they are,
looking for bargains is a thriftiness that bugs us;
and down those isles we go..not reading labels,
not comparing prices...just filling up our shopping cart
with food we don't really need!  And who will be embarassed
when the cashier tells us annoyingly that the credit card
has been declined! Oh, good grief...we don't carry enough cash,
to avoid blushing in the publice eye while the the line gets longer!  


My advice to you guys: before you venture out shopping, stash your wallet
with enough cash, or check the balance on your credit or debit card;
it's another way of being smart! And besides being admired, you may also find romance
while you are in line and a pretty girl smiles, trying to start an intelligent conversation...
leading to a date or even marriage! Do you get it? Look sharp, flash lots of money
and really get lucky! If you fellas do what I have suggested, 
you'll have broads flocking to you and your buddies will envy you for your luck!


Details | Free verse | |

Two Oldsters

I clip on a leash so I can try to hold her back.
My old friend will prance all the way down the block and back.
She’s frightened of noise from the garbage truck.
And early morning before the heat is always a must.
We walk the sidewalks to keep her nails trimmed nice.
And we know everywhere to find a friend like us.
Lord knows, I try to stop and talk, so I can catch my breath.
We will cross the street to avoid mean and barking dogs.
We know all the obstacles that might get in our way.
And we go a different route for each weekly day.
Together we know we appear to be a walking machine, but
We smell the roses and notice flowers from all the houses we pass.
But it’s nice to see the yards as they go slowly past
We have plenty of work waiting for us at home when we get back.
But for a moment each day we chose it, to ignore.
My old lab and I need to get out while the weather is good
In the end we’re just two oldsters…trying to get out of the house.
A smile comes on our faces we go down the block.


Details | Free verse | |

The Ocean at Dusk, to a Child

I am seven and a half, standing at water’s edge.
It is just after sunset, and we are on vacation.
Sunburned skin was okay then, at seven and a half.
Dad sits comfortably higher up the shore, watching.

The green-gray water, seemingly alive,
Is rolling and roiling, churning like my stomach as I watch.
My head is full of wild imaginings and half-real dreams.
The ocean fascinates, beckons, and chills to the bone with fear.

I saw a colossal sea-god stand out of the ocean
At a Saturday morning kiddie show movie just days ago.
I know it was only a story, but I believe in stories.
Soon Neptune will rise up, God-like and glaring -
And mortal dads are not suited to fight evil sea-creatures.

My dad still sits, peacefully unaware of what is about to happen.
I stand and stare, shivering in my sunburn, unable to look away.



Details | Free verse | |

Israel so he calls it

You call it Israel carelessly 
You call it that thoughtlessly 
Unquestioning is it okay? 
Unnoticing the decay 
The strong hold of all the Palestinians 
The firm desires it will be free again 
Did you see or have you went blind
To all the things they did
To all the slaughter 
They have caused
To the destruct of all homes
To the raze of all mosques
To the perish of many souls
Strong great Palestinians 
They did not do but stand 
Defending their beloved country
They did not do but fight back 
For what the Jews did 
And you call it 
You call it again 
Israel…
For if they killed, burned, and tortured
It will never be theirs to own 
It will never be theirs to name
It will never, never be theirs to cling too
It has been, is being, and will be
Only Palestine…






Written by: louzana nubani
Dedicated and directed to: Paulo Coelho 
 


Details | Free verse | |

A Cup of Tea

stepping out into the open air 
i feel a course of light running through my veins 
the sky, the sun, the grass 
some things never change 
and i pray they never will 

underneath this tree i built 
i gather from the shade 
a sense of belonging for what it's worth 
i could never taste the touch of your lips 
or the incessant nudge of a friend's reality 
but i can just as well sit here 
and become the earth again 

it's just me now 
and that's okay 

i take a trip up the countryside 
my jacket across my shoulder 
waving to any passers-by 
it's not as lonely when everyone knows you 
i find a diner off the side of the road 
and stop in for a drink 
i sit alone in the farthest corner 
and ask the waitress for a pen 
she obliges but she wants it back 
then asks me what i'd like 

just a cup of tea 

i pull a napkin closer in 
and write what i see/feel now 
the sun reflecting off the window 
and the glare in my glasses blinding me 
it's beautiful out there 
and it makes me wonder 
how much more beautiful it might be with you 

but it's just me now 
and a cup of tea 


Details | Free verse | |

Scattered Museum Thoughts - (To Be Read While Running)

Sing to me silly
of cracked silver eggs
in nesting bowls
under key and glass
in white corridors
Ruffle my hair
when we reach Cezzanne
my brain is alight
my colors wrong
The winter is spinning
The tide rushes in
Hand on my shoulders
the artist begins
Leave me alone
to view the world
a mapping of conquests
a shooting of stars
a whisper of science
will all be ours
Giggle me this
with cogs and whistles
marbles and wheels
metal arm bandits
dropping the egg
gone silver and cracked
taken from nesting bowls
now put back
Unison dream
museum quality
pushing the envelope
right off the table
into the white
of hall ways and byways
stale air and brightness
through glass leaded doors
to the bustle of worlds
not intended for us
past the safety of art
and the rhythm of laughing
of giggling, behalfing
a million odd things 
to disturb and be dreams
to break into glorious song
never wrong
to the air turned to fresh with pollution
and depth of degrees
to the "fill me back up to the brim"
and release me back into the wonder world dim
with an inhale, an exhale, of "Ahhhh"~

which somehow I just didn't know until now...


Details | Free verse | |

Mousehole

Shifting focus from farm to stars
the drifting night begins
where listless day turns to mist.
Beyond the harbour bar
boats put out to sea.

By dawn the salty breeze 
is flecked with foam
it peppers the Postie 
as he makes his way
around the quay.
He stops to watch 
the fishing boats 
ploughing home
through  pearly sea.

And dreaming 
of what the day might bring
sleepy couples, yawning,
pad downstairs. 
In chorus all the kettles sing 
above the morning news 
of stocks and shares.
And thirstily, 
a hundred cups of tea
are raised to lips 
simultaneously.


Details | Free verse | |

Horizon

I looked up and saw
And what I saw
Took my breath away
I saw the sky in turquoise splashes
And a rainbow of pure colour
No eye could fathom
I saw a dream, I saw a vision
I saw what inspired every poet, 
Every artist, every person,
It inspired me, and it made me 
Think 

I looked up and breathed
And I breathed in deep and took in 
All the glory of His handiwork
I saw a sunset, I saw colours
That didn’t exist in the human mind
But only in the mind of the One who made it.
I saw neither RED, nor YELLOW, even BLUE
I saw hues; I saw splashes, merges of shades 
That had neither name nor infinite longevity
Due to an oblique, orange setting sun

I gazed down and danced,
And danced on roaring white foam
On darkened sand and smooth stone
The waves crashed in, and sizzled back out 
My feet and toes refreshed, 
Gazing around, into a horizon turned bright crimson
I breathed in the salt, the foam and lifted
My chin, standing on tiptoe, lungs invigorated
The sun halfway into the sea, appearing to submerge

How small do I feel under the dancing coloured sky,
Of wispy clouds and up against the giant ocean…?
How do I fit in under the gaze of the Sun, its warmth and
Beauty indefinable…?
A whisper came across my face,
A wind from the West, (or is it East?) 
teasing my hair away 
Into marine air, pulling tendrils of curls onto my lips
Not concerned, or troubled, neither worried or caring
I nodded my head in agreement to the Words of Him
Him above all. The whisper, exhaled.
I inhaled. It came again, with no comparison;
“I’ll never leave you.”
 
I looked up and saw
And what I saw
Took my breath away


Details | Free verse | |

Tales Of America

The Dank Abode
------------------------
1. Dank is the echo reflected in our lives, and at any moment flood waters may rush to 
greet us.  A sweet hello.  Our beds, our clothes and what little we own, the burglar is 
mother nature's own and we can only venture out and start all over.

This be a claustrophobic home and it's a roof of old we lurk in.  Sharing our domicile with 
rats and roaches, various diseases, and the realities of our past turned ghost within our 
eyes as we blink in disbelieve and dread it.  How far we've fallen as we plunged off the 
edge of the end of the world.  

Now we sell you tickets, just to make enough to starve.

Geological Deficiency
----------------------------
2. With hunger in our bellies we greet the world waiting.  A bus without an address 
waits to greet us as the traffic builds and anger stems behind it.  We wish we still had 
an address to stand and start our day.  The driver signals, the cars blaze and yells 
curse, but we're on our way to the first real meal we'll have all day.

2.5: My mother eats rocks, I saw her! ...And she grinds her teeth upon the body of the 
Earth.  My mother eats rocks, because I need my dinner. 

Camping Forever
--------------------------------------

3. Beneath the sky there is no shelter, there is cold and hard cement.  There are 
uniforms who track me where I went. The law doesn't like me for I have no place else to 
go.
The limbo shelters hate me, for they're already full, they won't let me in so I stay out in 
the cold. 

That's why I am camping, and I think I'll camp forever.  I'm not alone, there's plenty of 
us here, pitching our tents and chewing our beans but where else do I go? When the 
world doesn't want me around, I guess I'll camp forever.

--------------------------------------

I apologize if any of this feels short inadequate but I was in a rush.  I'll do some repairs 
to these when I have the time.

Here is the news piece that inspired these poems.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=suJCvkazrTc


Details | Free verse | |

So-Called Good Christians

You have made a choice. 
You have chosen hatred. 
In our Heavenly Father, 
you have chosen not to rejoice. 
He is who spares the most awful dread. 
  
You have chosen to hate me. 
First it was the “N” word, 
the Afro comment, 
and my curly hair. 
Now you hate me 
for the religion 
that I have chosen to be. 
My faith gives me what is right and fair. 
  
I pity you for all your hate. 
But you made it clear my fate. 
A Mormon to this date, 
a Mormon forever. 
Your rage and hate 
prove my faith and 
choice of religion right. 
Your bigoted hatred
I have chosen to fight 
by giving it light. 
I want it 
in everyone's sight. 
  
Your rage and hatred is your only boast. 
But with it you are engrossed. 
Like you, your rage and hatred 
are nothing but compost. 
Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit 
gives me what I need the most. 
  
And for you, that is just 
too bad so sad. 
  


Details | Free verse | |

If You Can't Beat 'em, Join 'em.

Lift up the tarps
Let the stubborn rain in
Wind up the roof
Watch the lightning begin
Mud up the feet
In the dance of the wilderness
Twist brooding trees
in a moment of dizziness
Spin all the stars undone, laughing and overcome
Mix all your tears with the eyes that the rain came from
Sleep under grumbling clouds, thick sleep with anvil eyes
Wake to be healed by the opulent opal sky
Fold up the tent
Let the sun warm the ground
Pull up your roots 
and sweet tune to the sounds
Pack up the storm
in your backpack and go
You just can't stop the rain~
Might as well join the flow...


Details | Free verse | |

Corsica

I am part of the land
the granite and limestone
that contain relics
of man's beginnings.
I stand on the mountain looking
over the water, pure in its shades
of blue as it reaches into the 
caverns along the coast.
The land rises to unknown heights
daring man to conquer it, to live on it.
The remnants of fortresses align the coast
standing guard against unknown forces.
From the Greeks and Romans I draw my blood
continuing the ways, the languages, as I observe
the Europeans with their yachts using
my land as a playground.


Details | Free verse | |

Saint Monroe Towers

I'm rolling by these towers 
that swerve, these towers
that turn,
twisting, slow, into Mississauga
skies, I watch 
new windows
burn with light, burn
with life, yet I 
still remember when you were 
hardly higher than a child, then
ascending, rising
canonized from flat Ontario ground,
and now
the miracle is complete,
St. Monroe alive
for thousands-

"...a landmark of a town
         bathed in round Babylonian crystal..."


Details | Free verse | |

The Moon Did Spill That Night

I remember a place
with a heart concrete
that lived and breathed the night.
It was a place that glowed
pulsed in time with the pounding of the night's workmen,
stewed in the warm, wet flood of autumn streetlight
walks past stoops that lined the blackened stretch of tar
sneakers and scarves so cool
that they melted and smoked at the touch
And from your window,
you could see it all;
you could see the birds and the beetles
contented in their coats of cold,
And you could see me stop
every evening at the foot of your door
and tip my hat to the wind
that blew like lips to horn.
Your window was a gateway
to a place too good to live,
too good to believe in,
too good to taste and smell and touch
when the sun was up and shining,
for everything that happened
happened at night,
when the pipes lit up and the children's shoe-soles
sounded loud and echoed proud through the alleyways,
and the TV sets ceased their roaring
for a moment long enough to keep the hopscotchers on their canvas-clad toes,
and the radio merely tickled the air
with notes of a blue
deeper and truer than the vastest, most empty starless sky...
And spilled on the sidewalk-chalked walls of brick and young love
was a moon,
a moon whose dusty, yellow glow
was all that we thrived in
all that we loved and hated and wished and kissed in,
all that we sang and shouted and drank and pissed in,
and all of us missed it
when the hours on the clocks of dark dried up,
leaving us with little more than empty gazes,
empty bottles and empty beds,
empty arms and empty heads,
promises broken,
desires unfulfilled,
but with sweetest day dreams
of the night to come.


Details | Free verse | |

Paintings Aspected Within Architecture.

Leonardo's influences realism.
Paintings within the grandest
architecture demands the most 
perfect delicate realism.

Their essence swathed in luxurious
fabrics,rich in warm wood,woven in
the finest tapestries gleams
of the shiniest metals + jewels.

Sitters command respect with their
permanent presence.
All paintings are elaborately framed
exuding an air of reverence.


Details | Free verse | |

Oddly Canadian

Breakfast at the Deer Lodge,
Moose Tick,
Salmon Harbour,
Beaver Bay by the evergreen,
left reminded of
B.C Bud at 17,
time is 
water under the bridge.

I live in Toronto,
and drown in Maple syrup;
Canadian Bacon.
A joke.


Details | Free verse | |

Piece Pipes

Peace Pipes


I.

Critics came in hordes
filling the rolling hills of Troy
carting a gift, shadowed.

The moon looked
a silvery wraith
sliced between trees.

Paris stood still, even as it came—
Staring at the dark dot, 
he thought up carriages.

Meanwhile, Helen paced affront him, piratess—
Clutched hands, brow furrowed,
teased by a narrow word.

Concentrated, they bet to see who could reach
the first arm over 
the insides of that horse.

--

Basho confessed:
his horse ate hibiscus, too, 
along the roadside

--

In pursuit,
Paris lamented—
sang songs,
asked his master

Where to find
another 
horse?

He lowered himself
to peer into the round
bright pupils of horses lining his stable 
like chrysanthemum by the roadside
or books stacked upright in libraries.

--

The horse’s footsteps
reverberated fully,
its shoes neighed 
at the stones which sat 
at the embankment 
rounding the castle.

--

And Helen—searching for rites,
perusing a Bible in her tub—
could not, like bread, rise.

--

Here, the horse said:

All the world is selfish, 
all selves self-aware 
of idle minutia. 

The dust will settle
where it will,
in the wherewithal

of time, when 
it shall be most 
mobile, most able.

--

She, overflowing with water, shot up 
for the incoming guests—
paralyzed Pandora.



II.

In pursuit, 
Paris lamented

Where to find
another—?

He lowered himself, 
like Narcissus to peer 
under ground, at the pupils 
of horses laying as
they lined the silver river, 
their spines like books 
stripped of order.

--

And still Helen 
could not, like 
bread, rise again—

Until Paris walked in, 
feet like drums.

Helen, an Aphrodite without arms,
returned his fervent look as only

A frozen Galatea could.

--

Paris sat 
under a tree,
catching pine nuts—
open-mouthed squirrel.

--

When the horse stretched
Its tongue out, 
Blowing breath
Into both their eyes, 
A wraith of smoke escaped.


Details | Free verse | |

Societies Maggots

Feeding hands of western promises
hold children by the throat.
See salvation die in porcelain tears,
shed from broken accords.
Innocence betrayed on altar of success.
A thousand Hail Mary’s won’t erase this sin.

Fingers resting on pulse of destruction,
a crack in the seal of Pandora’s box.
Old soldiers, cruising, trying to pick up a war,
while night angels gaze into despair.
Ancient enemies raise peroxide standards,
sweeping blame under histories carpet.
Alleys sing with shrapnel, 
detonating a temporary hell,
and some young solider returns a hero
upon the gravestone, his name immortalized.

Swollen bellies cry for freedom
as they cling to threads of life.
Silenced by butt of tyrants gun,
smashing tomorrows thoughts.
~all in the name of progress~

Charon takes loans to pay the passage
on fast track to heavens gate.
Peter’s list grows shorter
while demons cry from the pulpit,
“room for one more”.

Responsibility drowned on a Saturday night,
fighting the flood of vodka and coke.
Where love is measured in one night stands.
In queues outside the abortion clinics,
morning after pill eases the conscience 
of a generation that doesn’t care.

Wallowing in self-pity,
taking pills to ease the pain,
in a world that owes us everything.

Yet we give nothing in return. 


Details | Free verse | |

In Limbo

For all you patriots, for all you who have a home to call, I both pity and 
envy
you.
In my short life, I have come to find out that the realization of having no home is heart 
wrenching. 
And after so many years of licking my wounds, it seems they still bleed,
for as I write this my heart clenches itself in a tight embrace, and my 
weary
eyes blink away the misty haze.
So I come to ask, how is it I find myself without a home, how is it I feel a flaming patriotism 
towards Lebanon, 
yet I know its streets less than some of those who would have it burn? 

I was two when I left Lebanon, memoryless
I return, every summer, and sit in the houses of my grandparents, always: I feel out of place.
I am there, remembering the times of my past summers, 
as I fell and scraped my knees on Lebanon’s rocks, as I fought with its children and ate of its 
olives. 
And still I feel Lebanon, its people and its cedars, have moved on every time I left in August, my 
month of mourning,
and I am still two, with no memory of home, just a feeling of longing,
I am an anchor cast in a bottomless sea, truly, I am
in limbo.

© Samir Georges
2010


Details | Free verse | |

la dame de fer

Built somewhere between 1887 and 1889
she became a spot
for lovers
who overlook the city
in amazement at the Seine
as it flows lazily through the bustling city
of narrow roadways
and glimmering lights

She rises from the ground 
this immense metal structure that
speaks of man's ingenuity and imagination
coddling
those individuals who desire in their hearts to become one-

she is inspiration
both to civilians and those of artistic bent
lending her spirit
to the brush of an artist in pigment

oh my she is beautiful
as she graces the skies sublime
towering over any other building
she is truly so fine.


Details | Free verse | |

God Save The Minute Men

The squelching heat has of no effect
on the air-conditioned Minute Men
as they survey the desert land.
Keeping ever vigilant 
against the alien brown skins
that endlessly cross their borders. 
These pressed khaki pant militias
devoutly scour the arid passageways
equipped with bottled water,
binoculars, and cell phones.
Guarding the roads
to the ancient canyons of the Navajo 
and the Peabody Mining Company.
Or through the Mexican Missions 
that predate California.
Territory good Anglo American's 
recently inherited
from the parents of rape and murder.
God bless America
and God save the Minute Men.



Dean Walker


Details | Free verse | |

MISCONCEPTION


                        MISCONCEPTION


Had to lie.
When asked,
 Said I worked at McDonalds
Fellow students 
Would never understand…
 …Care.
An art student
Living under the shade of the Empire State
Steps away 5th Avenue
Without a job?
Turned me into a snob from abroad
In their eyes.
Worst yet
I was an ambassador’s son,
What a Bum!
He feels no pain
Has nothing to gain
Homeless people have more to say!
Never felt like explaining
Lying was much easier,
I was then one of them.
Should have told them 
About my homeless heart.


Details | Free verse | |

Egyptian Burials

Earthenware,
Gently coated with 24 karats,
Lungs, innards, entrails, liver,
The heart left untouched,
Untainted,
Egyptian burials,
Wrapped in cheesecloth.  


Details | Free verse | |

JERSEY ROCKS

JERSEY ROCKS

Jersey rocks
Blue blazes
Docker jocks
Tackle and blocks
Hooks grapple
Around the clock

Scoffing bodies ripple easy
Power
Hardhats safeguard
Secret hearts

Foreign toughs
      Eye
Liberty's muscles


Details | Free verse | |

Our footprint

City lights making it as bright as day,
City lights hiding all but the brightest stars,
Ugly stores crowding the streets, 
The ground paved with tar,
No birds can be heard singing above the noise of traffic,
Bigger,
Bigger we build,
Engineers and architects building,
Designing bigger,
Exhaust fumes make the air stink,
We want bigger,
Yes we have buildings that scrape the sky,
Housing developments where fields and forests once were,
We want this and that,
But we never stop and think about,
Our footprint on this earth,
What we are doing to the world,
The world we shall give to our children,
This is it,
This world is all we have,
We must open our eyes and mind,
We must learn to see the world in a new light,
We must see what we have done to this world on which we live because it is all we 
have.


Details | Free verse | |

Concrete Images; Vermont winter.

Trees, stand tall and bare
I wonder if they are cold, I am
I shiver as I write
Trucks and buses
Travel by loudly
Snow flying off 
Cars
Parked crooked, dented hood
Wind barely blowing
But it's still cold
It freezes the little bit of faith I had
Puddles stream from one end of the parking lot
Drop a rock in the puddle
Watch the rings form bigger
Smell of cafeteria and fresh rain
Clouds cover the dark and gloomy sky
Leaves 
None 
No leaves, No heart
I feel bare, and forgotten
Birds fly over head
Screeching loudly
I wish I could fly
I wish I was free
Windows tinted dark
Reflecting the gloomy light
Snow piles half melted
Hidden under trees and bushes
Flag flapping in the wnd
Empty, no people 
But us few searching for a story to tell
I have one
Few people linger past 
Ground is rough
Grass short and yellow
Squishy
I step and leave my mark
Few houses sit near with no noise or movement
Make me feel empty 
With no feelings
Old picnic table sits alone
In the shade of an old bare tree
Blue paint peeled off
Showing its real old brown color
Peoples names, dates, and little sayings
Carved into the remaining blue paint
Empty tennis court
one single ball rolls across the ground
Look around, feel the breeze, smell the rain
Catch the essence of this place.


Details | Free verse | |

Tristesse

Tristesse

Do you remember hazy days in Paris?
Mornings painted with rain
delicious sunshine dancing on wet streets
like warm tears
washed away now with your reflection
in the quiet certainty
of a June morning


Details | Free verse | |

Finding RAnSOn

I’m sitting by the sidewalk of a street,
waiting for someone to stumble upon my feet.
Hours passed, the sun went down.
No one came, I felt drowned.

I’ve looked in every place that I know;
I’ve been to the places where you might go;
but I didn’t see you there,
not even a sign that you’ve been there.

I’ve searched along the highways,
asked the people that came across my way.
I explored the forests,
please be there on my behest.

Rain started to fall.
Where are you? Please hear my call.
I’m starting to lose my hope,
with this weary feeling, I can’t cope.

I went back to the places I’ve been to,
from where I started, thinking I’d see you;
but still, I didn’t find you…
or, much better to say, I didn’t find myself.


Details | Free verse | |

WHO STIRRED TROUBLES IN PARADISE?

He heard of a Halloween party 
being held in Paradise, 
so with incredible speed
he was bound for Heaven...
regardless of the outcome!


Would God ever allow a fallen angel...
enter those gates, where holiness reigned?
Satan had to invent clever tricks, 
or he would never participate as others did...
and wouldn't God Himself have recognized him?


Well-groomed and fetched in his attire
as a meek monk in brown tunic...
he resembled the authentic friar
whose purpose was to disrupt harmony...
would he have suceeded or failed?


And indeed he succeeded in his foul plan
by turning all the guests against one another!
Cupcakes, sugar apples and lollipops went flying...
as they were tossed with harmful intention!
Who ever hear of troubles in Paradise?
 

Angels notified God of such daffy behavior,
demand everyone to apologize to their angry God...
how would Satan hide his disguise facing the Omnipotent?
Had he considered the consequences of his foolish disarray?
Yes, he did with a plan carrying out vengeance! 


" I have welcomed everybody to join this party,
but someone has caused disorder and confusion!"
God rebuked the gathered crown looking somber.
" The guilty one come forward!" He ordered enraged.
There's was a stillness more profound than peace itself!


Out of the debating crowd, a monk stepped out,
walking slowly...afraid of facing the wrathful face of the Almighty.
" Say your name!" God requested little sympathetic.
" My name is Satan...the disobedient angel whom You expelled!"
" It was beacuse of your envy that I did that!" God replied.


"Once again, I've tried to defeat You with my craftiness,
and failing I have realized how mighty You still are!" Satan admitted.
" I will leave this holy place, unworthy of my cunning deed!"
And in saying so, Satan departed with a disappointed, saddened look.
Why didn't God accurse him? Was his time at hand? 


Details | Free verse | |

Military Mind

 Military Mind 
Military Mind 
 
 
Sexless uniformed surfaces not needing a life inside. Worthless devils fighting 
all the time and hurting all others against the flag or under orders or authorized 
this is the military mind just recently there was news a man held off his mind with 
love the conscientious objector was recognized. 
When eye was alive it was harder inside a man could have chosen the medical 
core or just died in the combat. The colors on those flimsy operating room suits 
were all wrong eye wore khaki may GOD please forgive me eye thought it was 
better to die than to live with my military mind. Nixon stopped the troops 
movements to the then Viet Nam. Nixon signed my discharge under the peace 
movement then. My foot was swollen from a drinking binge could have been gout 
my foot swollen up the doctor told me to toughen up when everyone else was at 
bayonet practice eye walked on the sidelines not worthy to fight just trying to get 
my foot to work to move my military mind. Since then as a civilian again eye have 
almost ruined that foot again its lame on one side. 
Now that eye older and lame became a fight would be welcome again to my 
military mind. God please give me your strength to then die. To lose a life taken 
is to gain it in Heaven eye object to my military mind. 


Details | Free verse | |

Kissing Moon

My longing desire beckons
Go kiss the fair faced moon!
Though its reflection lies 
beside me
giving forth a priceless smile
than why oblige to go
kiss the fair faced moon?


Details | Free verse | |

Whispers On The Wind

    I walk alone through the tranquil wood,
 for a time unconcerned,
 for the cares of this world.
This is an ageless,sacred place
untouched by the passage of time.
The surreal light,
 casts shadows across the loam,
playing back and forth ,
with a life of their own.
The small trilling brook,
 plays the music of eons,
ages long ago passed by.
The artist Mother Nature ,
the canvas,
the myriad colors of this mythical realm.
My perfume,
is the aroma of pine,and fir and balsam,
sweet , with each inhale of breath
Shhh........
can you hear that sound,
the whispers on the wind,
ghosts of those who trod before.
Specters of the past 
,the voices' of Sioux,Cherokee, Seminole,
and countless others, carried on the breeze.
I tarried to listen , 
sat under the eldest guardian of this keep,
an ageless oak, 
branches reaching for an azure sky.
For just a moment I am at one with the world,
hustle and bustle of life forgotten.
I am enfolded in green arms,
that give and never take,
silently, this is true peace.
Twilight  wanes,
and alas I must leave this haven,
that I have shared,
for just a mere heartbeat.
Return once again,
to the cares of the world ,
outside this magical place. 
 


Details | Free verse | |

MADE IN MISSISSIPPI

MADE IN MISSISSIPPI
 Along with...
 Syrupy, sweet hospitality
 Downhome , Delta blues
 And beautiful Magnolia girls;
 Strong family values,
 Unbreakable bonds,
 And lifelong memories 
 Are Made in Mississippi 
 2012 Patricia Neely-Dorsey
 from My Magnolia Memories and Musings - In Poems
#Mississippi #mississippipoems


Details | Free verse | |

Sebastopol - Apple Blossom Weekend

The First Methodist Church,
with its bold wooden steeple,
burnt to the ground in 1914,
for preaching prohibition.
The good folks of Sebastopol
weren’t having any of that.
Today the Apple Blossom
Parade marches past
the rebuilt church, past
the Masonic Temple, past
Martha’s Mexican restaurant,
with its soup bowl Margaritas, 
past Old Main Street Tavern,
overflowing with biker patrons,
and Jasper O’ Farrell’s,
past The Powerhouse Brewery,
The Greenhouse, and G.T.O’s,
with its bottomless Bloody Marys.
As the entire town, marching bands 
and all, spill into Ivy’s Park 
for a two day party, pixilated music,
and four dollar beers to support
Analy Union High School.
No wonder Luther Burbank
and Charles Schulz
called Sebastopol their home.
And The First Methodist Church,
now made of stone, 
the only quiet place in town.


Details | Free verse | |

Nach dem Krieg

Wiesbaden 1946

 Langsam und traurig
schreitet der Alltag,
ueber die Truemmer
zerstoerter Traueme.
Er sucht die Stuecke
zerbrochener Erwartungen,
zusammen, um sie zu ergaenzen
und zu erreichen ein Ziel.
Doch der Alltag ist kurz
und der Stuecke sind viele
zu viel.


Details | Free verse | |

The Well

I chanced to visit once a well
   Abandoned for eternity

Surrounded by a velvet sky
   It somehow beckoned me

From ages past the grass had grown
   And withered there to die

Replaced by shadows that beseech
   The coming passerby

And as forever rambles on
   Brief respite waits for me

Within this old and shallow well
   Eternity I see


Details | Free verse | |

Sounds of Home

Quietly toasting my skin in early morning sun
Sounds of Malta ringing in my ears
Hearts beating rhythmically within
Like engines revving
Cranes swinging
And stones dropping into place
Six storeys high
Birds wings heard fluttering around, trilling quietly
As noon brings peace, and noise withdraws
And people rest in the siesta.


Details | Free verse | |

On the Train from Amsterdam to Brussels

Roosters gather in a parking lot,
cackling and crowing.
A man is bent over in a field,
fixing his tractor. One long breath,
a yawn, a wide field with horses,
clusters of sheep beneath low trees.
We fly along a creek, short stretches of fence,
a dusty path, a boy on a motor scooter,
a tunnel, blackness.
A swan curls on a green pond,
a construction site is only half complete,
a windmill barely rotates in the misty sky.
Swirling white butterflies 
dance in a meadow.
I think I see kudzu in the overgrowth;
I forget where I am.
How can the Holland countryside appear
so similar to the American South?
I could stay on this train forever
and always be happy.


Details | Free verse | |

Six o'clock, Friday afternoon, Karen Beam Memorial Garden

While I lie on this stone wall
hand almost too weary to write
I can see tiny ants scurrying about on the pavement
curious mobile sesame seeds exploring an empty bottle
and the last few of the lonely afterschool crowd
shuffle into cars and drive away
here I sit, alone in my pondering
the wind and rustle in the trees
speaking to me and me only.

Upon this ground I have tread many times
many times have I, too, shuffled past nature with nary a thought
but today my senses are sharpened somehow through exhaustion and lack of 
sleep
and the grounds speak to me with a voice and a soul
that no man could possess.

Weakness has made me aware of nature’s 
awesome power. Sugar ants
crawl all over my leg and I pay no mind. For
the air smells and tastes green as the spider grass,
and the forest canopy shields my
fair skin from the sun.

Some people spend their whole lives looking for peace.
I have found peace here
no siren can rival the chirping of the birds
no bitter taste can wash away this sweetness
and all my pain is but a leaf carried away on the breeze.


Details | Free verse | |

Dream House


I have built 
a house on the hill 
of dream

We both have craved about it
overstating the travail it was taking us 
to get things done, but in reality 
I was more impressed by the swift 
and gentle tempo of our hearts

We unpacked boxes 
of chocolate memories
The welcoming blinds grappled 
with sea wind breezing in 
    
Last night, we greeted 
the quiet hill 
with our breath panting from such usual rite 
into the contentedness of desire

And the stars photographed 
our blushful thoughts, engraving them 
into the house 
that we both wished



Details | Free verse | |

Hellene My Greece

Dragged to the rafters, noose at the ready
There she stands the enchanted witch lady
Guilty of laughing and dancing and singing
Hanging for the crime of extended living

Tied at the wrist, cutting twine digging in
Shoulders back and breast open, ever the hostess
Serving and smiling she gives you her wine
Cellars empty now, its recession time

Bound to the stake and the firewood’s in place
Head held high, sparkling eyes of the sea
Reflecting warmth and indescribable light
The battle to conform deemed the wrong fight

Her fate decided by politicians
While she collects wild greens and cleans fishes
The world likes to see her all broken and done
She sips her coffee and soaks up the sun


Details | Free verse | |

THE WONDROUS CONSTELLATIONS

At my birth, something happened up there...  
into the wondrous constellations,
God Himself made them shine brighter
for this new born trascending life 
into a destiny of greatness;
and my grateful smile deepened His delight!

Astrologers study the heavenly bodies: 
stars, planets and the wondrous constellations
to predict  the events of an individual's destiny... 
from an ordinary one...to the most extraordinary;
fame is measured by a monetary value,
but  greatness is a spirituality laid open to view!

Nowdays simplicity is looked upon with suspicion,
it seems a bit too spontaneous and impractical; 
the modernist confounds it and confronts it,
treating it like an incurable disease of the outcast,
but no great man has ever been
ashamed of expressing it and propagating it!

We are building monuments of wonders,
and go far into the boundless Universe...
instead of undoing pain and disharmony,
curing the plagues that inflict this Humanity;
our society is too proud and arrogant...
nothing frightens us, and we still remain defiant!

If  your fate favors you over the others,
who only can wish for such glorious moments
consumed in prosperity and greatness;
start cultivating the seeds of wisdom,
seeking out those truest friends living on the Earth...
to admire and share the wondrous constellations above!
 


Details | Free verse | |

Buried Alive!

Buried Alive!

Where am I?
I can’t move!

What is this that 
I’ve been put in?
I was asleep and 
now I wake up in this?

How did I get here?
What type of
Twisted joke is this?

Who in the hell
Would do this to me?
What the crap!

The top is so 
close to my face,
Between me and the
Top there’s 
hardly any space!

What the hell!
I can’t even turn around.
I try to scream,
And my voice echoes.

Oh my God!
I must be underground.
I’m getting hot and sweaty.
It’s getting harder 
and harder to breath!

What am I going to do?
What the bloody 
hell am I going to do?

I have claustrophobia
And I’m locked in this
Freaking box!

I’m trapped in this tight space
And I can’t even move,
There’s nothing I can do!
I have no control over
My body and my breathing!
God help me!
I need you, please 
get me out of here!

This is the worst place
I could ever be in!
I’d rather be raped or
Stabbed or anything
Besides this!

Get me out of here,
This is my worst haunting fear!
Who would do this to me?

…and now I have to pee,
I can’t even move my arms
To unbutton my jeans!
Oh well, now
I’m pissing all over 
Myself.
Great, I might die 
With diaper rash.

The air is getting thinner
And thinner, I’ve got to
Calm down.

I’m going to die
Buried alive
Underground,
Without being
Found.

I’m going to die
Without making
The slightest sound!

I’m withering
Away, soon
I won’t be
Around,
I’m fading away.

Who knew
I would
Die today?

Turning blue
Without anything
To do about it!

Get me out of here God
Get me out!



I wrote this poem about my worst fear.  I wrote it for a contest.  I do have this phobia.  
When I was a little girl one of my older cousins locked me in a hope chest and left me there 
for hours.  Finally an adult heard me and let me out.  Since then I've had this phobia.  I wish 
I could some how get rid of this fear.


Details | Free verse | |

Daydreaming

Fields of golden daffodils I see,
the cool breeze brushes my cheeks.
I hear the birds humming tunes so lovely!
The sweet scent of berries and dew-soaked grass mix.

A wonderful feeling it is!
Then a hand shook me.
I open my eyes from this bliss.
To see my teacher`s wide eyes, glaring at me.


Details | Free verse | |

The Farnsworth Room

I. 

In this august room
I can see ugly, light-brown shelves
with books inset
like miscut gems.

I can see the surrounding flat, white wall
that looks like the painters
used primer.

These chairs are pretty though,
with crimson leather
and gold-capped rivets,
but they
too
are cheap
and creak every time I move
(age and cheap nails).

From that side you can see a church
with pretty browns and reds
but I chose a seat farther removed
from the oak-framed window
perfectly split in two,
or, three, panes, maybe
when you really look at it

but I don’t.

I’m in the corner with Katherine Hepburn– 
I don’t know anything about Katherine Hepburn.

Maybe I should read
that overstuffed book.
This overstuffed room
is quiet and ill:
all these visible things
and the only sounds I get
are the humming lights 
and some child
leafing through the Globe.

The lights are dull and only half of them are on.

My squeaky chair
and the ugly walls
and the ugly bookshelves

are too much
		so I leave.


II.

A different seat this time
and I’m in a better mood:
I’m sure the painters used real paint.

There’s no one here
so I squeak my chair for a minute,
and then, 
	   realizing I only came here
to write this poem

I leave again.


III. 

I just stopped in today to say “hi”
to Katherine.

I was thinking about her last night.


IV. 

Today I didn’t want to go in, 
so I just sat in my room
and thought about that room;

time is scary. 

Like looking at ruins in a book
or on summer vacation
and it doesn't seem quite right
that each place has two selves
and two times and each is connected.


Details | Free verse | |

Housing

I pay the bank for this 
Very bank used for standing
And staring with nothing left
To do but rob Peter, forget Paul
I didn’t like him very much anyway
Dollar dropped is a dollar lost to me
Investing naively in the will of free lies
To prepare for a future without living the life


Details | Free verse | |

Where I Long for You to Be

Sunlight’s hitting me in the eyes
Pillow’s warm against my face
Feet uncovered and cold again
This is not the right place
I’m waking up where I don’t belong
because once I get up
the bed will be empty
You weren’t sleeping by my side
which is where I long for you to be


Details | Free verse | |

In the shadow of Avalon

In the shadow of Avalon
where the sweet tangle imparts its loamy scent
as the dew chills on the blades
and trembling grows the aspen and oak
on the shore where solemn waters lie
is a vision of splendor
The beauty of Avalon, reflected in glass
cast across its mirrored surface
Below these still, bottle green depths
in the realm of whispers, 
dwells the lady of the lake
weaving threads of fate into patterns of  destiny
in the tapestry of life 
invoking mystery
rising, she is formed of mist and truth
Fairest lady,
sing to the morning light
sing of the wisdom found in beauty and in pain
reveal the truth concealed in your smile
Beautiful lady
gauzy veil drawn in gray mist
alluring, pale
stir the waters of thought and memory
into streams and rivulets of knowledge
forming pools of consciousness
the eternal lake, spirit of the Goddess
as just beneath the surface she waits
forever in the shadow of Avalon


Details | Free verse | |

Blissful Ladakh

Beyond the world lies a journey,
a horizon that acquaints a magical destiny,
a solitude with soulful eternity,
a milieu abiding betrothal vicinity,
where deity is within the eyes
and the  faith adobe vivid smile.
 
Beyond the human lies a viability,
a nascence that exhale a verse amorously,
a spirit with blissful sovereignty,
an admirer beaconing Elysian itinerary,
where deity is seen solely,
to a hermit heart wallowing ethereally. 


Details | Free verse | |

The Sighing Door

As restlessness spirals like swirls in a shimmer,
An aura showered path swallows blackness as it grows,
As fires dine on forests, like rust in fast-forward.
A brightly lit trail leads to an abandoned charcoal house..

The klanking of glass streams gently through the breeze,
Patterns lay in the sand, left by meandering souls.
Your arms slowly rise, a push forced to the door.
Ice falls from your skin as you rush through the air,

With a click signaled entrance, you looked up and said;
"I've been here before, and I know I should leave".
The door sighed a creek of impeccable desire, 
as you gazed upon it's awkward peeling paint.

"I really shouldn't be here, it's not time yet". You whispered.
A small glistening appeared through the door, growing brighter and wider.
Fixated, like a statue in the mesmer of a glow,
You watch the door shut, and the spirals lose their light..
 



Details | Free verse | |

THE MONASTERY

It was a Day 
He wore his cocoa-brown shirt
not silk sort-of
sort-of splayed with sinewy
filamented palm trees in  
green fibrilangulared leaves
no coconuts; draping to him
like a cosy vestment tucked
deeply beneath...

St. Bernard de Clairvaux,
Oh, this sunny Sunday Morn.
to know beatitude, of a place
traveled stone by stone 
stone upon stone remade 
for It's Image imparvenue,
about the nave, there
a photo-snapping Song and Stepping
Borne with the Smile of Day
East to West they children
in a Rhyme... Sublime...

Alas, now, 
The Day apass
from East to West
His vestmeant for cocoaed-brown
draped to him
like a cere-cloth, & tucked beneath deeply
recalls to the Day-nearly
(8.21.1153) 
and the Massacre of the Troubadour, &
a felo-de-se, en Masse!

                                          H.e.m.
                                         7.21.MMvii.
                                         ("MWABD")


Details | Free verse | |

Punting Along The Avon

Down by the Avalon at the Christchurch Square
Weeps the living willows, serene, free from care
Nature’s own exotic home, a garden set in greenery
Here the Avon River fountain flows majestically

Victoria Park rest near the Christchurch Town Hall theme
Punting on the Avon is a relaxing pastime dream
This Avon runs along the botanical gardens to view
The Copthorne Central hotel overlooking Victoria park too

You can dine A La Carte while you travel round the city
Punting the Avon without seeing the cathedral would be a pity
Seeing the Bridge of Remembrance over the Avon is awesome
Sort of like Autumn before springtime helping life blossom

Avon River at Victoria Square is Heaven’s garden summery
It runs through Hagley Park, in Christchurch, breathtakingly
Nearest the Train Station Tramway, a few miles from my home
Check out some of the photos here of places where I roam 


Details | Free verse | |

Constant Vigilance

A plain but inviting bench
Old with chipped black paint
Yet brisk with an energy I long to caress. 

Dancing flowers tall and bare surrounding the old sit-place
Flowing in the ever blowing wind
Weeds entangled in the exquisiteness I strive to accumulate.

Lush green leaves shift and then become still 
As the slight breath of the angels ceases to come
And the bark beams up at me 
Through bright eyes and with never ending nerve.

Downhill there is a creek, bubbling with anticipation
Fish of beautiful colors are trapped beneath the surface
With Elodea Canadensis crowding the bank.

Across the street, children running
With parents striving to reach the goals
That their children can on the play area
Watchfulness is the key ingredient.
Constant Vigilance


Details | Free verse | |

II

People have formed in clumps
like little Chinese dumplings
under the few trees,
where the grass is thick and damp.

In the center of the park
a group of twenty-somethings 
throw a frisbee;
their athletic legs 
stutter and flutter and step.

Shirtless and bikinied,
their sweat looks like condensation
on a glass of ice water:
the beads mysteriously leaking from the skin.

That’s the body’s way of telling them
it’s too hot to run.


Details | Free verse | |

Imagine What You Can't See

The guns, the shooting, the fighting, the war. A young soldier hugs his family as he waits by the door. He knows he's ready, he knows he's right. He stayed up packing and praying all through the night. He's been training, but he's never been there, he can only imagine and prepare. His plane takes off, his heart beats fast, he's leaving for war at last. In his hand he holds a picture of his mom, dad, brother and his sister. He holds it tight and quietly wishes them farewell, he closes his eyes as tears start to swell. The plane lands in the hot heat, quickly he gets ready to jump from his seat. He runs screaming into the dark and stops, what he sees makes his heart drop. Famine, fear, diseases spread. People lying in the streets dead. Laying in the dark, staring at the moon's glare. He can only picture a gruesome nightmare.


Details | Free verse | |

Transience

I can recall a summer day,
transient as a butterfly.
Fields full of poppies,
hazy with heat,
and pollen on the breeze.
Somewhere there is a memory
fragile and bright
that like a butterfly
captures a lifetime
in one perfect day.

And in the grass
the hoar frost
melts in winter sun.
Icy droplets drip 
into frozen streams. 
The world is bathed
in rosy light;
a fleeting fire
as the sun goes down
on another perfect day


Details | Free verse | |

I remember you

 
Old times forgotten on the way
Old friends forgotten on the way
Forgotten are those joys & smiles
Forgotten on the way to new life
 
Few verses, few songs sang
Few tunes, few places visited
Travelled together sharing touch
Forgotten on the way to new life
 
Still i remember and recall you
Still in prayers i remember you
Life is full but i have tiny space 
Not to forget estranged friends
 
Its not complain, its not whining 
Nor it is grumbling like old wives
It’s just a gentle knock on door  
Let you know i remember you 
 
08.07.12

..........................................................

Dedicated to friends who at once were very dear and close in touch as to spend quality time together, but today they have departed to a distant dimension where by u could feel them as you recall them but they have nearly forgotten you ( due to job/work profile; but you too are not sitting idle, you too have job) but u rather remember and recall them and joy u both shared once..


Details | Free verse | |

unnoticed

The weak sunlight struggles through the smoke from surrounding factories
Puddling on the patched asphalt excuse of roadways
Oozing like grey blood from the gaping rusted gates
To circle the lost huddle of trees in their curb side fortress
Robbed of leaves by the careless cold grasp of winter
Their stark forms leaning like bones from a wound in the earth
Shrouds of grimy unread newsprint clinging to grimy feet
Cartons from fast food take-aways like discarded confetti 
Litter the skeletal thorn bushes struggling for life between
And there, a bundle of fur and stench reveals
The unnoticed resting place of some unwanted pet.


Details | Free verse | |

big brother german

"My Big Brother" nach oben und unten auf der Straße
  Er konnte jeden treffen Sie sein
  Bespitzelung von Ihnen von der Straße
  Suchen in aus jedem Takt  "My Big Brother" ist das nicht süß?
  "My Big Brother" und ich weiß nicht, warum

  Gießen von oben in den Himmel
  "My Big Brother" der kommunistischen Spion
  Zuhören in Friss Vogel oder stirb
  Bringing sein Buch in  unterrichtet innerhalb
  My Big Brother, 1 - 800 - LET-US-IN
  Gefangen mit Papier und einen Stift Alles nur, weil, "My Big Brother" ließ sich in"My Big Brother" up and down the street
  He could be anyone you meet
  Spying on you from the street
  Looking in from every beat
"My Big Brother" isn't that sweet

"My Big Brother" and I don't know why
  Casting in from above the sky
"My Big Brother" the commie spy
  Listening in do or die
  Bringing his book in
  Taught within
My Big Brother,             1-800-LET-US IN      
  Caught with paper and a pen 
All because, "My Big Brother" let himself in


Details | Free verse | |

Internal Supermarket Monologue

Will it be crackers or detergent?
A brick of cheese or some creamy mayonaise
Cash or check
Right or Left?

Stop or go reflecting on god's ranch dressing
The windshield wipers screech to a halt
Bifocals clouded, I reach for my wallet
No lettuce in there.

I guess the crystal light
Ran away with my low fat heart


Details | Free verse | |

Giant Strides

 Giant Strides 
Giant Strides is Just for Giants 
 
 
There was a measure that the military used to measure strides. 
There is a way to mark your pace and realize how many miles upon them dogs 
had come. My foot is a size nine. Way back when it was a seven. Eye wore eights 
a lot. SO for argument and peace let us say my stride is a foot long and two steps 
becomes a yard. 
Eye went to many different places on them they are still a part of me. 
Please leave my feet alone they wander home they sing no songs they carry me 
away and bring me back today. Eye seldom wash them anyway. Eye change my 
socks and keep my feet dry and use the same old shoes until eye die. Eye die for 
love eye die for ewe eye die. Let Giants take them Giant strides while eye just 
ride the bus. 
Eye stride but not so many not so much. The man had a great coat on and ready 
for bad weather but his shoes was not completed they was not even tied your 
shoelaces is neglected the coat looked very nice. Feet must be wrapped up tight 
just to survive upon the lands 
of viands giant strides is just for giants. 


Details | Free verse | |

A Ride Down the Thousand Islands II

A juvenile little blue heron yells for its mate. 
In a quiet manner, you pluck a reluctant leaf from its home.
This is not the world as god meant it to be.
A stingray races at an amazing speed.
No sign or sound of cars, buildings, or people
That will change.
Low enough to stand and reach out
Crush the vast serene painting the world it absorbs 
It is not for us to cause more damage
The crisp leaf crumbles as it is grasped.
The kayak turns the corner in a graceful manner
Close enough to reach rub across its slimy skin.
A kayak floats in lazy elegance
Stress and with great speed throw it away.
The oar is placed across the bow
A brown behemoth emerges from the depths
Man already destroyed everything he touched
Paddling on, past the floating island
Branches stretch over the water forming a canopy
Water drips as it rises in the air
The sea cow basks in the sun
Wading in the water three feet away
Through the vastness of the Thousand Islands 
The kayak drifts on in silence
Consider touching it, but hold back
A breeze pushes the kayak through the maze
A sweet smell replaces the smoky aroma of civilization


Details | Free verse | |

Her Vessle

So long ship,
go on your merry way!
I hope I'll see you soon,
when you come
stumbling back to Bay,
to Bloor,
and Yorkville 
where we last docked,
and rocked,
swayed,
and dawdled,
talking
into the night...

So long ship,
farewell my love!


Details | Free verse | |

Surfing On Saturn's Rings

           Surfing On Saturn’s Rings
Floating on the outer Phobe Ring with Saturn rising
Out of reach at supersonic speed, above ecliptic's cryptic spokes 
Ready to fill the cavities of meteoroids for surfing at approach
Jet wave propulsion bounding from ring to ring upon my star board
Surfing alien surfaces, curling, singing through the systems swirling wheel
Sailing over micro rocks with glowing tiny asteroids of snow and ice
Into star dust clouds with a myriad of oddly shaped blue spikes
Down between the “D” and “A” Rings where moon particles converge
Pulled from left to right at cosmic speeds to reach its soul
With gravity as the key to force me through
Satellites are stretching, emerging on the deep
My equipment for this system is from Mars
Imports from the far off planet
Made from silver, titanium, and molten crystal beads
A surf board to the stars is starving for a start on micro parts
I come up for air above the “G” Ring, to see the giants staring there
Saturn with Titan by its side, filling in the foreign sky
Weighing down on me with ammonia oceans smiles at my size
On the horizon of Saturnian orchestrated rings
Meteoroids spin, singing on the beams of light 


Details | Free verse | |

Down South

Sun drips away like butter
butterfly shadows melt across
a rocking chair porch
frosted lime, and smooth, summer shade bleed through,
permeate, settle in every weary bone
Jasmine and hibiscus embrace homesick nostrils
deeply
and scratchy blues records call out
it's all in the game, child
come on home


Details | Free verse | |

While Waiting for a Stoplight

litter of leaves by the side of the road,
yellowing paper, soggy with last night’s
beer, spilled from a bottle thrown
from a car and smashed in the gutter.
dead something-or-other, maybe a mouse,
lies just outside of my car in the road.
gaze straight ahead, to the beat-up 
white Chevy, sputtering black smoke
from a rusty, bent tailpipe, drooping toward the ground;
worn bumper stickers declare “I Love America”
and “Divers do it Deeper”- rebel flag
careless in the corner of a windshield,
shadowy head of a car’s unknown driver,
waiting, like me, to race off to somewhere.
now the light changes and we all leave forever
this moment, this corner….this stoplight scene.


Details | Free verse | |

Crimsworth Dean

Crimsworth Dene

Light relieved land stamped down and raised mounds and hidden folds, revealed the valley’s follies, farms and sunken rivers.

The bright afternoon eye-level sun painted radiance on the dead leaves’ shimmer, rainbowed the waterfall’s joyful spray, and drew eyemotes floating into dancing stars against the sheeted blue.

Outward away past the framed horizon, the sillhouetted church, the tiny Pike, crepuscular shafts healed the broken air and the shining clouds glowed.

The ancient ruin of a farmhouse still holds the ghosts of lovers that once longed across the valley’s gape, forbidden to cross. They rest somewhere near, whilst their dreams still fall towards the river where today, the clough throws its soul-drops over Lumb Falls. Follow the water, and the stream for an instant, becomes brief despariing citizens of the beck hurling themselves, flying and dying to join the river-republic of the hereafter and tumble on ecstatic to the sea.

The central beam, the backbone of the farm, cracked and snapped one day and  still rests piercing the floor, now boggy grass. Where the foxgloves towerin early summer, the moss has taken over the lease and the sheep shelter in what is left of the larder and the parlour. Somewhere under the boulders, the bedroom continues to rot , and where their passion lived, the sun now lures weeds towards itself, rising and falling through the centuries.


Details | Free verse | |

The path of dreams

Tracks lead down a dusty memory lane
adorned with trails of dreams I've left behind 
Balmy vapours rise, sweetly intertwined with the
surreal patchwork of gold and shade
soft beauty of morning light
gilds the fragrant blooms, cascading down,
in a vision of springtime splendor


Details | Free verse | |

Spring Is Wilting

The spring is wilting, it's leaves of veins slit red and makeshift graves where truth once layed upon a bed of roses.   

Those roses whose shoots once rose, through ashes of adversity now show no signs that the roots are even there; the blood has drowned it everywhere.

The petals are burning through the smog, which strangles voices in it's fog; the vegetation doesn't grow, it bellows in pain as the rockets rain another day.

The spring is wilting, the summer's doubtful if it comes. All time is ending; and no ears can hear a sound.  The fires suffocate it all.

The glimmer of truth still skies the hope but still the peasants die;  there isn't time to mourn their passing for here come yet more rockets from the sky.

Will there ever be a summer?

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To the martyrs and innocents killed in Libya, Syria and Bahrain. Let us pray your deaths were not in vain and that the world will see a summer come again.


Details | Free verse | |

lead verse

Capture the hearts of the people with the words in verse you speak.
Even after your death, we listen in awe at the sound of your voice.
The way your tongue rolls leaves very little to the imaginations
deciding elements.  Lead the collective group of souls to the brink 
of hell and back, to sleep soundly in their beds.
Send the weary into a frenzy of confidence.
Cast the wicked into the ring to be stoned.
No eternal being can save them now, not while poets like us exist.
Send your words to the girl down south.
She will send back a bandage for your broken spirit.
Time is on our side.  For now...


Details | Free verse | |

THE PIRATE WITH A SILK EYE PATCH

When there's absolute silence in the creaking hut,
something spooky is bound to happen again,
and the haunting feeling seems to no avail; 
any ghost's appearance makes my hair stand up!
There he stands laughing and frightening me... 
the pirate with a silk eye patch, I hide underneath
the covers, not to let his outstretching hands grab me;
and is he a phantom or another underworld spirit?    
I have read many stories of pirates, and one of them that intrigued the reader
was that of Captain Morgan as the most famous pirate in his time...he pillaged,
destroyed and killed causing chaos in the Caribbeans, and how clever 
he was to abandon his ship and escape, hiding his treasure on some island!
This pirate with a silk eye patch once was called," Morgan, the Horrible!"  
My skin is getting goose bumps, thinking of how bad he was...oh, it's so unthinkable!
I am shaking like a tiny mouse chased by a hungry, ferocious cat utterly unstoppable;
I flee from the bedroom and hide into a dark forest to hear the moan of a beast!
I turn back, but the door is shut...I turn the knob with caution,
there in the pitch-dark room he drinks his whiskey and dances alone;
I slide on the alcohol dripping from his dirty bottle, and as Morgan
tries to grab me, I run from his glaring and bloody eyes again!  
And the pirate with a silk eye patch returned on many scary nights,
giving me chills and shivers haunting me until darkness faded away;     
wait a minute...they aren't over yet...someone dressed in black knocks
on my front door, and sneering he says," Welcome to my Halloween party!"


Details | Free verse | |

Gypsy

I have wandered
into your land -
its verdant cry
has pierced my soul.
Mine are
the dust-covered colors
of a violent sunset;
see my skirts swirl
ablaze in the summer wind.
My heart is
a magician’s cache
of tricks and turns –
invisible to the eye, 
startling with their vision.
My wit is
a dark night cast
with stars that shine
promise of other worlds.
My eyes are
a noon sky – 
have stared too long
at suns and moons,
have seen days
become years.
I am deeply ancient.
I am tabula rasa.
I knew you
when you were born, yet
discovered you only yesterday.
I will always 
be this curious and wise
gypsy woman –
dancing in the wind,
walking on fire,
wading the river,
listening
for the lush pine grove
that whispers in the evening,
that sings my soul’s music
in a voice that is yours.


Details | Free verse | |

Lagos

LAGOS
Lagos.
Why have you been so plenty?
Is it because you are near the waters?
Why have you been the commercial sight of men and women?
Is it because you were once a colony of whites?

Lagos is a place of struggle
Lagos is to hard by the shadows of pests that run through the streets of the 
islands.
Lagos full of people a difference between the rich and the poor.
Lagos, the world feared by the poor and which make the rich bold.

Why have you been so cruel to strangers?
I know you would stretch their necks
And steal their selves as a whole.
Aliens, beware of nice city.

Lagos, citadel of confusion and the sluggish intellectuals who
In the morning work for money and in the night pay crooks
Lagos thank you for being a place of education and land
To proud of both positively and negatively


Details | Free verse | |

A Morning Entrance

at my entrance I am greeted
with pallid stares.
I walk, head down, into the back room
so that I can avert their eyes to a 
more interesting specimen.
this works only momentarily
as I am forced to take my
position among these foreign minds.

stop these assumptions,
these suspicions of why my
mouth is not worthy to open to your ears,
of how I am unable to speak at the sight of you.
in truth, I am afraid of you.
in lies, you disgust me.
sometimes it is both.

I walk to the back room again,
different eyes watch my movements,
they rudely speak,
knowing that I will not answer,
and when I leave, I can hear them
laughing like the scabs on my knees
and elbows.

I resume my position at the front
and beg to be ignored,
as I ignore them.


Details | Free verse | |

Spilled Youth

Birthing babies,
Barely able-
To have that beer,
Peer to peer,
I think it’s disgusting,
Understand,
I don’t go through it,
I am much too wise for that,
No children here,
Your life is no longer yours,
It is theirs,
The kin,
No points to win,
Popping out,
Parent unprepared,
Blame yourself,
Not birth control,
For your spilled youth.


Details | Free verse | |

Our Countryside Liberty

It was a hot summers day, in our garden in the countryside. Sheltered from noisy
cities and towns. Where we are able to approach life so differently. My girl my love, always 
in liberty flow, so enjoying the rays of natures orange orb.

Close by you can hear the cascading of crystal clear waters, eventually reaching 
us after negotiating meandering contours. In this heat you can sense the rocks
secretly smirking, as they are constantly cooled by translucent gifts.

On a blanket of green, naked as birth. Her peachy skin delights the vista that 
captures my eyes. Her blond hair adorned with a daisy chain tiara. She is my princess
my queen. She lays on her back, looks into the clear blue sky that ceilings our above.

As natures rays are absorbed by her delightful shape. She moves, touches as if in a dream
state. Her body reacting with thoughts of unshared dreams as insects buzz and birds sing
as if they are party to her thoughts. Their orchestral notes, their musical score playing
in symphony to her movements.

In momentary gulps of air, Koi carp rise to the surface to share this vista of pure.
Tails splashing as if they have been summoned to be part of the scene, slapping the water as 
if applauding. White water lilies catch the gentle waves, dancing like backing singers
to the sounds of the insects and birds. A gentle breeze catches the tired leaves, as they 
whistle their inaudible notes. As insects dodge their sway to carry on their journey of 
pollination.

Late afternoon arrives as clouds close the sun, like curtains informing us that the scene
in today's play has ended. Sporadic sounds from distant birds echo, where earlier they were
in riotous volume. The white water lilies are now graced with the gentle undulations of 
the trickling waters as the Koi settle from the frenzied applause. Our afternoon closes.




Details | Free verse | |

Good To Be Home In Dixie

...leaving starched shirts and neckties in my rearview, mission accomplished and to The North, I bid adieu. I set fire to a Panatela and answered the call - "ALL ABOARD!" The Cajun Queen was southbound down The Mighty Mississippi - MY REWARD! The whistle blew, the bell clanged and that big paddle wheel slapped the muddy water in perfect three quarter time. Two summers had past since I left home at Oak Alley seemed much longer since I held my sweet Scarlet O'Malley Good to home in Dixie.


Details | Free verse | |

The jungle

Faces scattered on the wall
Across the walls in the hall
Pictures of places, animals and more.
Make me feel as if I'm sitting on the ocean floor
In the jungle, among the sea
You can't imagine what I can see
Sailing a boat far, far away
Makes me speachless without a word to say
Rushing home to catch the storm
Not wanting to leave the jungle so warm
Looking back to see what's left behind me
As I paddle slowly through the sea
As I wake up from my dream
I think of a rapid waterfall after a long smooth stream.


Details | Free verse | |

La Isla Sets me Free

Amor, you allude like a cloud
To something great
Your name, a promise of Jerusalem
Your exclusive mouth, like water
on my dry lips and deeply vacant chest…
 
I’ve never touched a cloud
Nor known the inevitable fog
Of falling into you
But now that I know…
 
You’re not even Tel Aviv to me
Nor San Juan, nor Bayamon
You’re a makeshift castle
A colonizer
Pressing your smooth arms
Tight around my shrugging native heart
 
At the chance
I offered my hair, my amber perfume
I made my eyes a place to bathe
Your obviously filthy feet
Offhandedly, you spoke of the sea
But all I see- is violence in your city
You spoke of passion as though
It’s synonymous with love
But I see fatherless children
You’re not that man who saves
But the tide which takes me away…
 
A convincing title
A bait and switch
A hook for virgin lips
And now I’m a bud among weeds
That are due to be cut down
 
You are among me
Take your shot now
Since I know you shoot me down
Leave me alone, cabron-
You always leave me wanting
And I’m not fighting anymore
I’m dancing on the shore, Puerto Rico
This is my story, here
And la isla sets me free


Details | Free verse | |

City Dawn

Predawn avenues hear
concrete whispers.
Dark voices echo as the
rising sun
replenishes thousands of cities
with warmth.

Midtown sleeps as
a love song of the night
is heard in the shadows;
haze of mists
scans the streets
and covers the park in peace.


Details | Free verse | |

Prohibited(Limerick-Slam)

BLACK TEXAS TEA, NO FISH can SEE
We Want to KNOW what WE DONE to THEE
Charlie Tuna wants to STRIKE
Along with Catfish Mike
Though PROHIBITED by KING Of SEA


Details | Free verse | |

Flankers - A Snapshot

I broke the stone that built the roads, my friend
And when through college my escape came
I was the first to that place they sent
So this telephone line
This school
This post office
This clinic
And a community council that pined for me and died
It was the way I paid them back
Netty Scarlett
Trevor Hylton
And the unsung heroes that believed
And walked the road with us
When we were rolling up our sleeves
And telling the authority if they agreed
Give us a little room and a little seed
I like to see things grow
We planted there our dream
Transforming the landscape
To accommodate civilization
They only had to water and to weed
To reap and claim forever
The fruits where our dream succeeded
You have added signpost to every road
But someone did not weed
The place is littered now with so many bad seeds
                 ***
The fruiting forest has faded fast
The sandy bars are submerged
The athletic prowess did not last
Night comes here like a dirge
On community and hope
Character tethers from a Judas rope
That will not break
Only salt can the sea harvest yields
And all the time the prophets templed silent brood
On shrines like houses decimating the wood
And time suddenly their hopes reversing
And fear crisscrosses the roads
The abandoned heart traverses


Details | Free verse | |

Being Short

In short,
I see myself,
walking with you,
in dark warmth.

By dark,
I mean black,
pitch black.
By warmth,
I mean a very comfortable warmth,
like the kind you find in a long and solid embrace.

In short,
this is where,
I always want to be.
Walking with a companion,
warm and feeling no pain.


Details | Free verse | |

Toronto- 'What is our Nation'

Toronto,
you feel it in your bones,

but Toronto,
I am so alone,

I'm living in the library
and trying to forget you,

I wish to escape...
because Toronto, I am afraid.

Toronto, I am displaced.

My ancestors fought for a land
that I no longer know,
and I live with you now,
and bury myself, 
further and further in familiar snow.

Toronto, where did I come from?

Toronto, we have a problem.

'What is our nation?


Details | Free verse | |

I am the beach

“I am the beach”

The brilliant yellow sun slowly moves to the horizon and the voice of the beach, comes alive across the ocean waves.
“I am the beach, and here you shall find peace.”
“I am the beach and here you shall see and feel the power.”
“I am the beach and here you shall find solace every hour.”

For at this beach, there is much, that is revealed.
The glistening grains of salty sand, that blanket,  are a bed of comfort, too many.
Pause, as you come upon this lively beach, and listen to the symphony of waves, the powerful sound of the wind and the chorus of birds, singing their own songs, as they glide through the blue sea sky.

Feel the power of this beach, as it renews your inner being in a comforting way. 
You need not question the beach and its spiritual strength on any day. 
The omniscient power of a divine heavenly being is felt, heard and experienced at this beach.

 Every wave, every sound, every grain of sand and every pebble that is moved to shore by the thrust of the ocean's power is proof enough. 

Footprints, large and small, in the sand paint a beautiful picture amid the smell of the ocean air
Create a mindset of freedom and little care.
There is much to teach, but know for sure,
I am the beach. 



-Nick Schneider
4-13-12


Details | Free verse | |

8 12thish

Lilies white,
Red, blue and yellow,
Jutting from out the pond, 
Pad broad and flattened out
But not one frog to sit.

Schools of gold
Some of white
With few of ebony.


Details | Free verse | |

Beating Your Drum

Be yourself, good and bad
Express your pain, sing your songs

Open up to the world around you
Dance in the light, lurk in the shadows

Run in the forest and swagger through the city streets

Seek eternal love, turn your back on others

Be notorious, draw attention to yourself
Be silent and watch people as they do their silly people things

Write and write and write then burn it all. After that write some more and share it with everyone

Travel to places you’ve never been
Make new friends in the places you’ve seen all your life

Question everything even when you’re told not to. What do they know anyway? No one has all the answers, not even half

Paint a picture of a mundane scene and insert your own beauty

Create past the point of boredom. Create past the point of criticism

Laugh in the face of naysayers. Show them what courage is. Cry when it feels right, trust me you’ll know

Love like there is no tomorrow because you never know when their won’t be


Details | Free verse | |

WHO LOOKS FORWARD TO SEEING SNOW

Temperatures constantly drop,
the first chill stroke my unknown sense,
that sense which causes depression:
when winter knocks once as luck does
to state its indisputable intention....
who looks forward to seeing snow?


Children like snow and some adults do also,
but thinking of how cold it will get,
most of us rather think of sunny beaches
on those islands savoring summer's dreams...
then who looks forward to seeing snow?


By the ajar door, where shivering robins eat my breadcrumbs,
I hold and sip a hot cup of Miss Swiss chocolate 
and curiously watch how they struggle with their iced beaks:
I pity them and let them in...who looks forward to seeing snow?


Details | Free verse | |

Happy Hampton Beach

Glistening throngs walk in detached cadence 
Sweating long necks on a production line
Along the boardwalk
Pungent saltwater and fried dough drifts
Ocean meets country fair

Constant clamor of teen and seagull
A multitude of color variation
Red to black
Whiffs of Coppertone and Noxzema
To ease the pain of the vain and pale

Summer at Happy Hampton Beach
Arcade upon arcade
Clinking bells and whirly sounds
“You’re a Winner!” it screams
And then we are gone, until next year


Details | Free verse | |

Embrace (Revised) 05/04/2008

I am a woman embracing the moment
Standing silhouetted against the morning sun
A majestic mountain visible in the distance

Time passes as flowers blossom 
River sounds rise on the breeze
In a wondrous place on earth
Where everything has its place, in its place

Under the willow flowers drift hidden by shadows
Bird’s, joyfully singing
Butterflies, lingering
Sunflowers nodding hello
I call my favorite place
The meadow

Silenced by the sight in solitude, a perfect vision
As time withers away painful memories
A calmness that fills the air surrounds me, a moment of peace

Now I have no fears as I freely breathe in new life
Standing silhouetted against the morning sun
I am a woman embracing the moment
I call my favorite place   
The meadow


Details | Free verse | |

Tuesdays Are Free At The Museum

My hands are busy with today, 
but my thoughts hang back 
in the humid air of a deceptive 
yesterday; to dinner and the jungle heat 
congealed under umbrellas, 
stained with the residue of city traffic, 
too loud and too close for significant 
atmosphere to stand any chance 
in factoring urban style. 

Paris, it wasn't, but the setting suggested 
the delusional coolness of a sidewalk café. 
The invisible sultriness that had seduced 
the day forced rivulets of sweat 
from even the chic-est brows tucked beneath 
the shaded shadow of the backdropped skyscraper. 

Heat had the upper hand, and with attitude, 
flipped off the advancing breeze from the lake; 
defeated, it proffered nothing more 
than the stale breath of a probing lover. 

The haricots verts were passable, 
the whitefish with pesto-laced orzo - 
commendable. The coffee? Ah, the coffee 
was an invisible accompaniment 
to a parody of authentic New York cheesecake. 
It was a one sip, one bite affair, exchanged 
for an iceless margarita in deference 
to the science of cooling the body 
with room temperature libations. 

Jose winked from the glass 
as I settled back in my chair 
and began to paint a self portrait 
for other people's minds. 

It's what a poet does 
on the avenue in Chicago, 
in the heat, in July; 
eat, drink and imagine 
you're seen. 


Details | Free verse | |

The Treasure of the Night Sky

Nightfall drops gold coins along the horizon
Children laugh-
Gathering light with their pockets
Until the end.


Details | Free verse | |

Panoramic

We walked into 
The temple of our dreams 
With sandy feet 
And tanned brows, 
Full of knowing 
The future belonged to us. 

How we rejoiced 
In those rented hours of summer, 
Borrowed against the promise 
That we would never again 
Own our youth, 
Displayed beneath moonlit piers. 

It was the cause and effect 
Of astonishing sunsets 
Over the Gulf of Mexico 
Greeting our intensity. 
Yet, 
There was so much more. 

Now these panoramic memories, 
Effervescent and thriving, 
Return with each passing June. 
There, I can still 
Smell the salt on my skin, 
And taste the fire of living.


Details | Free verse | |

Larkin

Maybe the old toad was right,
There really is nothing to be said
As a magpie picks its way along
Crumbling bricks which do little to conceal
Barracks demolished without a fight.
What once was alive is now dead,
Memories echoing like the last chord of a song
Beautiful resonance before they congeal
Revealing the uncomfortable truth that
One day it will be us.
Every moment, proud or painful
Will be forgotten in time.


Details | Free verse | |

The Ride

  Liquid filled dreams crept through the cool night breeze as a still distant thunder cracked the horizon.

  I thought to my self that an earth quake must be taking ground for it’s sake. 

  Safe over the hill and still quit far up aways my moms home baked cookies broke the day.
 
  I had my own “Loc Ness”, quite the demon, and as not to sneak snacks was an easyprice to pay.

  My world began empty and cold as it seemed from one life bring wisdom.
 
Rough enough storm to destroy, every thing that we knew, the tusnami -a wave of a storm.

  I confess to hearing her laugh what a story this was going to make. 

  Later they tried to pan the bottom of the oceans floor hoping to avoid more. 

  And I will leave you here on your own but then after it’s done you’ll be home.
 
  No matter what you’ll stay, but if another one comes Austrailia is that way,my moms arm waved.

   And I see her begining to stare, her mind was set on wide open to get it all those people saved.

  I do still answer myself again and again about why if it hurts so bad, 

The answers all began to be crystal clear and the answer is; 

She worked hard to make it a decent place to live and storms bad enough they called in the Hubble.

   A tusnami destroys everything. 

  Everything she loves about her life is in rubble.

 Based on the idea of how people live,

   And why she cares when they die, 

Fighting with intimacy, 

  While they drag the sea to collect people who died, 

  And my mind begins to wonder why the storms taking so long to decide, 

We are waiting here waiting for another heck of a ride.


Details | Free verse | |

Quaker Lake, NY

Lightening bugs flash, 
like the worn celluloid images of old movies,
I sit beneath a great Greta Garbo moon.
I am the heroine of this short.
The dew point drops,
Mists rise.
Crickets chirp.
Muskwats buzz.
Loons ululate and wail.

My dialogue,
The click and whir of my spinning reel.
The glug-glug-glug of the Hula Popper lure.
To prepare for the climax,
Bring out the proven method acting.
I taste the dirt on my fingers,
Licking and twisting monofilament.
The savory sign of night-crawler trails.
Add the bobber, the weight.
I smell the algae and rotting leaves.
The sweet stew of the lake.
My nose tingles from the life motes it captures.
I cast. 

This night, I ad-lib.
There never was a script,
No stupid fish.
Fade to Me,
The Garbo moon,
Clever fish,
Loon interlude.


Details | Free verse | |

Trip To The Sea

Trip To The Sea

The morning dawns brightly with just a hint of chill
Sunlight dances through the trees while playing tag with the elusive breeze
Our hearts are light as our excitement unites with anticipation
And we set off to visit the rugged coast of Maine

We strike an eastward course as we seek our destination
Over roads cloaked by lush trees that caress us with their shade
Passing homes and barns sprinkled sparingly throughout the countryside
Farms sharing natures bounty,appreciating what this land has wrought

The air is cooler as we inch closer to the water
The oceans fragrance impacting on our senses
Swells rushing to greet us
The sigh of ripples touching the shore

The time softened shape of rocks challenge the waves that wash over them
Staying but a moment, as if banished to return from whence they came
Shoeless, we pick our way across the slippery stones,
Feeling the warmth the sun has deposited there

We reach the surf and misty spray embraces us 
I taste its briny flavor on my lips
My footprints in the sand quickly vanish
Devoured by the lapping of the waves

Seaweed approaches, reaching  out to touch our ankles
While we scour the gray brown sand for the oceans gifts
Small shells and smooth stones vie for our attention
While shards of sea-glass become new found treasures

Soon the restless sea again asserts its power
Reminding us that it is time to go
As it tucks the sand beneath its deep blue blanket
Til the morning when it all begins again


Details | Free verse | |

UNDESIRED RAIN

Rain on rooftop gently pelts and slowly drips;
beneath the gust-battered brenches owls complain...  
cooing and lamenting not to make it stay,
unless it tapers.


Details | Free verse | |

Murder of a Betrayed Soul

Have you slowed your busy pace to take notice of a drop of rain? 
 As the sun glints through it, do you see its natural and quiet beauty?
Becalm your soul in the exquisite burst of color from a leaf after autumn’s first kiss.
Have you tuned your ear to the fall of the first snowflake of winter?
Become mesmerized by the quiet order in natures every soft footfall? 
As the season’s tiptoe past, do you draw inspiration, or blindly immerse yourself in the bland cares and concerns of your daily rush?
Grinding your soul into nothingness on the treadmill of society’s thoughtless whims.
Imprisoned in a self-made sightless box of disregard. 
Your spirit slowly snuffed out without so much as an objection to the lack of trial or jury. 
Will you call a mistrial, or will you pray for a last minute death row pardon? 
Have you betrayed your soul?

                                                                                                                                Summer Gratias


Details | Free verse | |

Who Comes From There

People are made of places, they say.
Then show me the mountains growing from your arms,
The sea coursing through your veins,
The bog pouring from your glands,
The ice and wind blowing around and through you.

Where I come from, People are of places and times;
But they are from experiences, from choices made.
The bully: protect self or them; become him, her, or better-ed.
The absence of green: watch others starve; go without it yourself.
The girl: push to relieve oneself; be pushed to relieve.
She-man: to carry is to drown, but you’ll smile all the while.

The smog creeps under the door;
It’s still your decision to face it, to open the door.
Let the fog in, let it become you, let it choke you;
The person there, they are the true you.  Do you like them?
Do you like where you’re from?


Details | Free verse | |

Killadelphia Freedom

Freedom of this city,
Lack of LOVE,
What is your right?
The right to maliciously murder,
To beat and burn brains,
Drive the average insane,
Feel the pain,
See the candles,
See the vigils,
No remorse?
No repentance?
Realize,
One day all will rise,
Against this filth,
Against this violence,
Then the guilty-
Will be found out,
Smoked out,
No one will cry,
When the killers die,
We’ll make a new high,
The people will be proud,
The streets will be loud,
No more destruction,
At least a reduction,
Come together,
I urge you,
Encourage you,
One of the first cities,
Is burning,
It’s churning,
With anger and thievery,
I need you to believe with me,
We can better our blocks,
Never afraid to take walks,
We march,
For freedom,
From the death,
From the hate,
Change our fate,
Save our city.


Details | Free verse | |

Memories Eve

The blustery air
The glowing embers
The sweet scent of a pipe

Breathe it in
Take in the warmth
Of this night among memories

Roast a sweet
Over the heat
Breathe in the mountain air

Breathe it in
Take in the warmth
Of this night among others

     When it is done
     And night turns day
     Memory lives on

-A collaboration between me and my friend and fellow poet, Jordan Wolberg-


Details | Free verse | |

A Southern New Year's

"Hey yall!"
Grabs a Roman Candle,
Sits it in a bottle,
Lights it,
Steps back and watches the colors explode.

Later you see Sally sneaking out the window,
She's going for a late night mud ride,
Her boyfriend Johnny's waiting with Mary and Mike,
"Yall ready?" Sally asks and they take off.

Sitting on the backporch with a portable TV watching the stars,
The ball drops,
It's no longer New Years Eve in Mississippi!

The fireworks really start going off now,
The whole town's awake,
Sally & Johnny stop the four wheeler under the bridge to watch,
How nice!

You can't even hear the TV now,
So you turn it off,
The stars are blocked by the magnificent colors,
And you just sit back and enjoy what luxury you get.

Then you see your boyfriend down the road waiting,
The night's no longer time,
It's time to take off.

You two decide to break in and go mud riding,
Sall & Johnny say ok,
You hop on the four wheeler,
"Is it ok for to be down here," asks your boyfriend,
"My cousin's covering for me," you say.

You know you love him,
And it's now 12:30,
You tell him to stop the four wheeler,
And under the stars,
You kiss,
A firework goes off in the distance.

You then continue on your journey mud riding,
Sally & Johnny already gone,
He drives you home at 3:00,
You sneak in through your window,
Change out of you muddy pants,
You don't care about your labs judgemental glance,
After all,
It's just a southern New Years.


Details | Free verse | |

when a flower blooms again

weak nor strong
the days go long ,nights get colder
it seems that it has no hope to survive.
have hope, keep your faith in focus
a flower has no fears of dying
nor the dept of crying
shinning down the sky, a light begins
to look so bright
get ready because spring will come
and the flower will show its true
color
and when the flower blooms, it
becomes a beautiful flower again.


Details | Free verse | |

Compton Ghetto Art Christmas

youd have to see it to believe it
but im making compton famous
a medusa mask
tribal
leave a candle burning
and a wall of clocks and mirrors
and a wedding day gift i painted

so you walk to your car
or into your apartment
and my window do you see
the blinds always drawn shut

but this artist game is open season for criminals like me

there is a candle burning beside the book 
with exactly that title

a kite and a flag of rainbows
and several mirrors to haunt your soul
kept safe by the hands of time
in case you have shattered one

but the grinch of the ghetto christmas is reminding one and all to behold
the cracks that keep us cold in the winter
the pots and the pans
sure it seems messy
but there is such a method to the madness

a pet nmaed rock
and no cats are allowed
but when you wlak by or drive by this view of the closed curtain of lights 
and delights

we're onto the mayor of the surprise holiday now

remember loose lipped sunken shppied


Details | Free verse | |

Here We Go Again

With you it is always on the run
Up every morning with the sun
Go to places I have never been
So I say here we go again

It is never dull to be with you
I enjoy every thing we do
But some times you scare me
The places we go and things we see

So when I am older and can no longer rome
I will have lots of memories here at home
I can think of the mountains and waterfalls
I can dream of the blue skies and all

I know when I am with you i am safe and sound
Wondering the hill seeing everything around
So I love to be able to say every now and then 
Watch out world here we go again


Details | Free verse | |

And I Know You Still.

Catch it
this current
striped of wire
sting of berries
tart and sour
on the wind
and in your window
Hold it
Break it
and control it
Mind the matter
heart and soul it
Wind the willows
'round your finger
Sip the sunshine
let it linger
and the motion
of commotion
Catch it
Tip it
sip devotion
and connecting
continents
sting of distance
pales my friends...


Details | Free verse | |

On Spring

Through the fluttering buds, pregnant with
Colourful blossoms in their child green
Cuccoons. Sunlight filters, flittering in a 
Mid-afternoon breeze. It carries the scent of
Ocean tides on featherlight wings.

A spiders web, moist with dew, draws the light between
It's gossamer thighs to refract translucent
Rainbows across quartz crystal strands
To make Love to the rising sun in sweeping
Unison as La Luna; billowing in her silver gown

Shall be the equinox's first and most beautiful
Rite of passage through the seasons.



"On Spring"
Jenna-Nichole Conrad
Wordsmith


Details | Free verse | |

Home Sweet Home

Home Sweet Home
My childhood home
Is cherished 

Memories filled with
Silver and gold
And sometimes pure cold.

No one told me
It would go with me
Where ever I go 

When I roam from
Town to town
I carry it with me

I open the door
Each night when
I go to sleep
And dream.

I can’t shake
What I learned
And what I didn’t 
Learn inside 
My honeycomb

I can’t stop
Moaning 
About that
Home.


Details | Free verse | |

Spring Revives Nippon

If streets had beats,
Ours would be steady,
Diversity beautifies Mt. Airy,
The veins of life are blue and bright;
Here,
Nature revives our lives,
The grace of spring arrives,
I hear the children at play,
Today is pleasant,
Today is positive,
I feel so alive.


Details | Free verse | |

Shipmaster

Shipmaster
Son with the  Air Force in Korea

As a child
you drew boats and ships
and kept their shapes in mind
while you were growing.
Large battleships safeguarding
a small boat
sailing fearless wayward
on the high seas.
Now you walk the actual steel
and feel real salt against your face.
I pray
for the continuing safety of 
your sketched harbors


Details | Free verse | |

Elephant Grave Yard(OLd Eagle Feather)

Elephant Grave Yard(OLd Eagle Feather) 
Elephants do it or it seems they used two. 
Made a place to leave they bones and went two there place 
in great droves or herds i think they are called. 
Old Eagle Feather was watching the women by the fire one day. 
They were chewing jerky to make it soft for meat to eat. 
Softening the jerky for little mouths to chew. 
Old Feather he is now been called got up and off he goes. 
Took up two stones of suprising weight, 
and carried them toward the elephant grave yard. 
I am going to my fate.He never shed a tear. 
I have done it all my time is gone.Let me make no haste. 
NO more wasted time in stories bye the fire. 
I am just in time. 
I see the elephants again, 
they are all in line waiting to get in. 
To my heaven. 


Details | Free verse | |

peace

I am no where I am no where, when I was happy, 
I was disturbe by huge armament. 
My previous era had unexplainable beauty. 
Where I use to see unpolluted nature 

That is created by great almighty . 
Green grass, blue sky,huge mountains snowy and gray 
It was very beautiful stucture. 
Before this era, my place was there where ever 
I wished and also cared indeed. 

Now all the places are destructed by many flounders 
Where shall I stay I wonder. 
Where would my place in future, 
As I cannot stay where there are destructor. 
Who give birth to band of collaborators. 

There by places for me would disappear 
Though the rich countries, busy in comarission ofarms race and starwars.                      
While the innocent and needy falling an easy prey to quench their thirst.
So my presence is no where nither in east nor in west.                                                  
While human future getting worse


Details | Free verse | |

What Up, Dawg?

I imagine a being high above peering
at the very place I sit and thinking
likewise that this is the most beautiful
corner in the whole of the universe.
As distanced as he is,
he is right.


Details | Free verse | |

View from a bed-sit

Reciting soliloquies to lonely cobbled aisles,
a fractured mind drifts within innocence.
Remembering long forgotten memories
with a chortle, echoed against the crawling mist.

Black BMW cruises the street,
hoping to pick up a war,
and as the train grinds to a halt
another truant steps from the merry-go-round.
Taking the helter-skelter to self-destruction,
all because of liquid dreams.

With her braided hair, a class room butterfly
scratches undying love into brick red wall.
Sharing cigarettes and secrets with jealous confidantes,
while the dancing headlights of the last bus,
kiss innocence good-bye.

Fighting the dark, street light paralysis its victim,
unsure of the minefield ahead,
until sanctuary is breached again.

Sweating stones grease the passage-way
that broken hearts take for temporary release.
Too many bruises pinned upon the arms,
that fold around, to be ever mistaken for a mothers hug.

Tom cats and bitches scuttle home,
escaping false dawns light.
Hobo crawls into cardboard castle,
meths and nightmares his un-sleeping partners.

returning normality.

Postman delivers the final reminders,
as hacking shutters rise to greet the tainted day.

Braided butterfly waves good-bye
to her prince, no longer an innocent;
Yet still, somehow, pure in her uniform.

Haze seeps from the greased stones
as pseudo mother unlocks her door,
knowing the false moans are finished
and for a time she can lay down to sleep.

Torn curtain falls to hide reality,
while the sweeper cleans last nights crystal dreams.
Watched by chalk hearts proclaiming "2gether, 4ever"

Cleansed by the morning rain, street credibility returns.


Details | Free verse | |

Where Else Would I Be?

Author Note: When reading, picture the beauty of a setting sun at sea.



Steadfast, 
surveying in appreciation the mastery of creation.
A kaleidoscope of color, blends one into another, 
producing varying intensities,
fluid, 
wispy,
in the aftermath of sun setting;
a vision,
a rustic portrait of my vessel rushing,
as to prolong this rare site.

Water mimics glass,
nary a ripple before me;
changes to chaotic in my wake.

I am enchanted by the feast placed before me,
fortunate among men to bear witness.

This portal between heaven and earth, 
this is my place.
I am a sailor, where else would I be?


Details | Free verse | |

The Bus

Get up and go

Foul smells assault my nose

taking all my senses in its strong hands and draining the life from them

I struggle to breathe 

A woman—her age, sad as her condition pulls her crippled body off and away 

I feel the wheels moving under my lightly shod feet 

I want them to move faster

A man who controls only parts of his body rolls his donated disgusting chair out 
of the way

So those with useful appendages will not be hindered 

Silent I consider my faults 


Details | Free verse | |

Your Special Heritage

Lord,
How often do you call unto the hearts of your children-
always longing to bring us into places within the depths of Your Heart
wherein we have not yet been?

Always continuing to call us deeper into Your very Presence
away from the things we know,
on into those places we don’t- but You know.

We are Your people, Your special heritage-
those whom You call to represent 
Your Name in this earth.

To that end:

We are the largest army that ever marched
across the face of this globe
throughout the ages.

Spanning all walks of life,
we have represented You, our one, true Lord,
not always faithfully but for the most part: YES.

It is this that we focus and concentrate on:

Your power invested and presented in each of us
to impact and effect the face of this life
and henceforth, each and every coming generation.

AMEN(So Be It!)


Details | Free verse | |

Poo Pants

Poo Pants lived in a rock,
and was all out of TP and socks.
So Poo Pants went off to the store,
but ran into the girl he adored.
She asked what was wrong,
but he ran away,
for he had nothing to say;
too bad it was mud all along.


Details | Free verse | |

Excess of Human Emotion

The city sleeps,
its lights tucked away,
hidden,
once vibrant and illuminated-
now dark and incomplete.
Speckles of dew litter the streets,
the excess of human emotion,
recycled,
a predator hunting its new victim
as it cowers in the darkess, waiting.


Details | Free verse | |

HEART AND MIND SEEKING A CRIMSON SKY

Profound and sad thoughts
seem to overwhelm in solitude,
but  the heart and mind seek a crimson sky
as the evening gathers big and small stars;
and quite often they lead me there...
whenever love doesn't grant me my wishes,
then eternity is the choice I follow! 


Making decisions can drastically change 
one's life...there shouldn't be regrets, or second thoughts; 
it's either triumph or defeat, nothing can be rearraged!
You can try with the heart and mind seeking a crimson sky... 
take my word for it, you won't be in for many heartaches!


Details | Free verse | |

Surrender

Midnight in Montego Bay 
Found me quivering in the debris 
Of my Captain's fantasies; 
Profound yearnings 
Yielding to something deeper. 
It brought me to my knees. 

Fire and amethyst scorched 
This breathless and willing hostage, 
Alienating inhibitions 
With a sense of urgency, 
Begging for release. 
Wonderment could not be contained. 

Surrender came easy 
Beneath the pulsating and aching throb 
Of love's impoverished need 
Manifested in secret touches 
And whispered words. 
Yes, you are my Captain. 

So it is here, 
Where lovers gorge themselves 
On imagination, 
That I relinquish to the power 
Magnetizing us, 
And it brings me to my knees.


Details | Free verse | |

Bourbon hours

I’m looking forward to more than winter seas
Young and warm we sat across the barn
Bristled against the ground, crushing misted leaves 

Yesterday I slept cold and worn
If I leave you now, we may never be
I’m growing fragile as my nights are torn

She says she’s coming home tonight
I guess she’s got no better place 
To roam tonight

I often wonder why you stop and go 
Relaxed against the soil, never mind the snow
My eyes may close, awaken, surely your to go 

Within the wind, we live, we mend
As the night begins, we start to end
You rub my chest, you tell me morning comes

She says she’s coming home tonight
I guess she’s got no better place 
To roam tonight

I think she sees me write 
Empty songs 
For lively nights 

I hear them speak, they say we could never be
But here against the wind
There’s only you and me 

She says she’s coming home tonight
I guess she’s got no better place 
To roam tonight 


Details | Free verse | |

Untitled

Sitting round the table with my glass in hand,
Thoughts come into my ear
I sense that world out there and go,
Foot places set, cleared and fair.
Oxen, lambs, bird and song
Time places things in front of us
And we have that moment to expound.
Dear afterthought !


Details | Free verse | |

Closer Look

See the house
In the country
Among the silent hills
And flower fields
Where green grass waves
Under blue sky
Long abandoned

Or is it

Take a closer look
And see

The new occupants
A fox slips out the back door
See her den in the kitchen
A field mouse now calls
The bedroom home
Bats sleep in the attic
An assortment of insects
Await those who seek

Though abandoned
And forgotten by man
This house is now cherished
By the wild


Details | Free verse | |

Oregon

can I report on a story
tell a tale of thy hills
relate to a beautiful river
help you imagine the green fields

This is Bob Blankinship reporting
to you live in the lush mountains 
of one of the most beautiful places in
the world , the beautiful state of
Oregon. I believe that poet Rick Parise
has capture the serene beauty of this 
breathe taking wonderland with
a simple but beautiful poem entitled
"Pure Life" This is how it goes,
_______________________________________________

onward through the hills of a pleasant dream
I push forward to reach the waters of a pulsing love
surrounded in great vastness air so crisp and visions alive
I knee at the waters edge to sip pure life...
_______________________________________________
Words cannot describe the beauty here in Oregon
If you want to experience this beauty for yourself , just jump in the car take a ride of your life , "pure life" that is !!
Bill Blankinship reporting , blessings to all , goodnight!



Details | Free verse | |

The influence of March

Breaking winds came across the docks 
March has invaded 
Below a sky of pale blue mildly faded 
Floating around in one spot as thou they had to yield
Ships of beauty wrapped in white jackets
They rest like packages waiting to be unwrapped
Wore paint on cutting cold rails
No duologue, no chatter 
Just a sublet hint of spring 
A handful of scarce seekers popping out to peak 
Anticipating the fondness the summer brings 
And soon enough there will be a multitude of bodies 
Scrambling up and down the streets 
Places to go, people to meet 
Soon there will be sails to cut loose
Sun scorched backs and inviting aromas of the sea 
But for now stillness envelops the harbor
A reminder to embrace patience
As I peered out the window of time


Details | Free verse | |

Freedom

This heavy feeling on my heart Drenched in this syrupy honey Sweet and glistening Beautiful and golden This sticky glue coated on my body I can't part from it's sensation My body lying naked on this bare wood Touched by my addiction This addiction I can't lift Not a curse, but a gift Wrapped in it's colorful ribbons Chained to it's promise Not willing to compromise So I bend down on my knees and beg To unbind my wrists and legs Finally... Released by these chains I wash away with the rain


Details | Free verse | |

Blue Sicily

The morning haze lifts off
the clear, blue waters of Sicily and
moves on revealing an azure sky
reflected in the water.
Levels of blue from light to dark
display life forms not seen on land,
with actors performing in a theater under water.
The religious sisters emerge from the convent
out on a shopping day,
laughing, whispering as their blue habits wrap 'round them,
Mary's color moves down the street.
Etna spewed last night sending out fiery orange lava,
but today the peace of blue sky and white clouds
settles back to a pattern that is Sicily.




Details | Free verse | |

Days At The Lake

Middle of spring
The place we cling
The lake is warm
Right before the storm
We laugh as we all get pushed in
The warm water sweeps over out skin
They pick us up
And jump
We scream without knowing What is  going on
We swim until dawn
We don't worry about what others think
The boys wont let us sink
They wont let us get hurt
They throw dirt 
And we throw it back
Then we do a sneak attack
These are just our days at the lake
The days that will never shake
Never leave until fall
Not even if there was a brawl
These are our days
At the lake where everyone lay
This is our lake 
And all the memories we make


Details | Free verse | |

Not that Type of Lover

Not that Type of Lover, 2012
V. Ortiz Vazquez

I am not that type of lover
You know, the one who softly caresses you with her gentle touch
Take you places by whispering sweet words into your earlobe
Out of no-where brushes you with her warmth breathe
I am not that type of lover
You know

I am not that type of lover
The one who open your door like a “gentleman”
Put her coat on you to keep you warm
Or places her Blazer on a puddle
You know, the one who brings flowers just because
I am not that type of lover
You know

I am not that type of lover
You know, constantly sending you hearts via text
Writing love songs, poems, stories
With pen, pencil strokes capture her effortless thoughts of you
Gesture drawings render her live heart
I am not that type of lover
You know

I am not that type of lover
But, I would walk beside you every moment; endlessly
Synchronize my breath to yours
Listen closely and become enraged for you
Transfix my days on the next time we see each other again
Inject your wishes deep within my veins
You know

You know, the lover whose heart turn to rock upon your dislike
Melts by the winks of your eye
The one tattoo by your words of “I love you”
Where skin deep shows the true colors
Perplex by light shining through your soul
Rhythmic waves encourage bloodstream flow
You know
A lover with secrets, hidden past—not so much
Moments of threats dismantle by a simple thought of sweetness
Sweet emotions
Ecstasy
Daily intoxication, production of your morning kisses
Night kisses
Addicted


Details | Free verse | |

Thanksgiving

The year that
I turned twenty - one,
We watched the 
Macy's Day parade,
while snow blanketed
Kalamazoo.
Cold cans of Miller 
High Life toasted with
garlic butter green
beans.
We baked bazil
roasted turkey breast, 
and laughed like
children at the 
very idea of the two 
of us cooking. 
Digging through
the dishes that 
other Civic Theatre
employees had left
 behind, we 
listened to Sweet Charity,
and the sound of tap 
shoes beating against
a green star.
We were wating for Santa
in a little city almost 
a thousand miles from 
home.
We ended the day as we
started, in puffy sweat 
pants, hair a mess.
No pomp and circumstance.
Just the two of us
listening to the heavy 
flakes fall.


Details | Free verse | |

Ancient City of Crumbling Stone

An ancient city,
crumbling stone,
putrid stench,
hopeless sand.
Where is the green that once promised?
Where is the sky that gave birth?
The disappearence of clouds
is unpleasant.
They passed,
just as our ancestors
did long ago.
In the ancient city,
green is perceived
in shades of brown.
All other colors are non-existent,
just as our ancestors,
who lived long ago.


Details | Free verse | |

anatomy of colors

In an Anatomy Of Colors
An anxious world welcomed 
the front pages Saturday news
the magic color print of
domestic critics in the democratic elected 
world.

Liberty isn't easily exported
crafted, unwrap
to be treasured always; 
is a different tune 
served by a delicate balance of power
-a challenge -
can set the stage for a tragic explosion
revival of desperate refugees.

In the world's proud
ignoring poverty, suffering, oppression 
can question a strategy to rebuild in a bloody crisis another country


Details | Free verse | |

PROFANE LANGUAGE

Profane language 
has lately become
part of our lewd society...
it is the tantrum
of young and old;
if we don't use it:
we aren't cool anymore!


Hollywood has adapted it
in every imaginable way:
in action, drama, comedy;
yes, profanity sells well...
while writers, cast and crew
smile going to their banks!


If no curse words
are used in movies,
crowds aren't interested
in going to see them...
movie-goers encourage
this filthy trend to go on!


Today, this disease has invaded
the Music World...some lyrics
are very rude and offensive:
they exploit the many sides
of human sexuality shamelessly...
are you still listening to them? 


The only and sure way to stop
the profanity and the immorality
of these condoned lifestyles
is very simple: refrain from going
to movie theaters, or buying cds:
send an alarming message to them!


Details | Free verse | |

To walk out your door

It takes uncertainty, I know 
to walk out your door 
and walk through another that’s not yours 
Of course, there’s too a course 
that other, unfamiliar, shoes use 
There are signs and there are signs 
not always along the way 
There is opportunity 
there is stop’n wait’n see 
choices others can’t make 
You’ll find too, things that go wrong. . . far from the right 
Afternoon. . . turns to morning. . . skips to night 
There is certain to be a promise. . . a goal. . . a loss 
and love’s. . . not yet in the toss 
Advice listened, taken and given 
Too few things, too many things. . . you’ll come to know 
It takes certainty 
to walk out your door


Details | Free verse | |

2 AM

The lights stay up to
keep me         awake
in this town that is a party.

The black night is a 
dome that cloaks
our busy turmoil with 
buried faces
in their bubbles and clouds.

Faces pass
as fast as the light. The air is
hushed in its tone,

but it feels like a new 
wave of life.

I stare out the taxi window
and watch the town 
before I have to go

to sleep.


Details | Free verse | |

Walnutport

I'm living in a wayward town
spawned from the the
Lehigh's past days of
exporting and trading.

A past where railways and
waterways soppourted
a nation.

Now ,a somewhat shallow
river winding past
unused old grey, 
weathered, steady canals.

The boats stopped here in 
decades gone, to
recieve rest and repairs.

There's not a single
boat shop in this little 
town anymore.

The first settlers were a stock 
of stat Germans, Swiss , Irish
and Scottish.

Their houses, once
home are now subdivided 
apartments.

Soppourting the welfare familes, 
the young, the starving artists, 
the poor.

Once a walk of carriages, 
cottages, hotels, markets
of early American  granduer.

Now, a winding ghost town, 
a village, 
with cracked sidewalks.


Details | Free verse | |

Mid-morning Come

There’s a faded sky
Lukewarm water creeps to shore
Mid-morning has come
“A Day in Paradise”
Palm trees with berries
Warm sand with rocks and seashells
And the sun rises.


Details | Free verse | |

The City of Brotherly Hatred

Leave while you still can,
Understand this city sucks you in,
It gnaws at your entrails until you flee,
Many are born and bred,
In the city of the dead,
Murder and robbery,
Consume these streets,
Unable to beat,
The odds,
It is so odd,
To find a mark of perfection here,
It does not exist,
It will never exist,
Until the disease,
Of anger, hatred, prejudice, and crime,
Evaporates from these homes,
These streets,
Bleed.


Details | Free verse | |

the way it is

this is the way it is- fool
sit yo ass down
nobody told you to run off
nobody told you to go no where!
you gotta take it all in
take it, sitting on this street
listen to that train rumbling up top
look at those chips and cracks everywhere
this yo city- fool
Come on.
Why you crying?
It ain't so bad yet.
There ain't no ganstas
claiming their turf
with their o-zone killing bottles
pick yo chin up
have some pride
this is yo town
and you gotta keep living it


Details | Free verse | |

Interstate 10 Rest Area

Oh strange, strange land. 
The physics do not fit.
The cord of interstate wends,
Through this place of upside-down rocks.

I climb down from the truck,
And wind and sand and sun and secrets
Run over me like dancing children.

I feel spirit course through me. 
My soul sighs. 
My vision narrows, broadens, backward, forward,
To all places, all times.

I stand among the hoodoos. 
I suck in the seared songs of shamans.
All ancients connect at this place.
I am your druid sister, standing sacred, still.   


Details | Free verse | |

MEXICO QUERIDO

MEXICO QUERIDO

Mexico querido y lindo…
The beauty of the people
And the land in which they live
Is accentuated by their struggle
To live their lives without bitterness
In a system of unfairness
The land itself cries out for justice
For equality and dignity
Men’s hopes are dashed 
Upon the altar of greed
At the heart of corruption is
Supreme selfishness,
Amassing wealth for 
One’s own pleasures

Still Mexico’s people 
Remain resilient,
Enduring life’s hardships
With steady determination
To enjoy their loved ones
And the land of their forefathers
To dare to believe, 
To hope yet once again
For the sake of their children
For a Mexico querido y lindo 
For everyone

mja


Details | Free verse | |

Pre White istoric and IN THE WHITE OF NIGHT for white contest

PRE WHIT E STORIC

Winter wild of flurries
In ancient minds
Was a shelter
  From white fear

Wolves roved
  Stayed in packs
   Howled their presence
   Hating snow

Bears slept
 Hidden away
 Violence and terror
  Only a summer dream

White drifts
  Blazing blizzards
  Wrapped safety
   Around fragile human life.

======================================
IN THE WHITE OF NIGHT


My passions stir on stormy nights
As winter swirls above our heads
Sleep's embraces grab you tight
Hawaiian visions crowd our bed

Deep in frosty winds of night
While you are dreaming balmy skies
I trace the beauty of your back
And lick the whiteness of your thighs

Sometimes you smile, 
like you're alone
But it’s my delight 
to hear your moan.

I snatch you from that ivory shore
And wake you begging me for more


Details | Free verse | |

Living On Hill Street

Next to the shaking Aspen, we stand  firm , making our foot  prints in the Terra-cotta clay...

Whirling past the malware.... the ghosts of doubt...the specters crossroads... 
We rise ... We love... We Live on Hill Street..

  We pulse to the  sound ...the beat... waltzing to the graceful  dance  on Hill  Street..
 Holding the blueprints primordial ,Our impregnable temple conceived ...

Like the architects of the Earth ship ,we dwell deep .... We dwell so

deep...  I drink from  your sweet spring water  ever thirsty... quench me... mmmmmm baby...

you  always swell to quench me...

 Anchored foot prints in the summer's heat ...

We rise.... we love... we live on Hill Street...



Details | Free verse | |

Ode to Mount Washington

Standing atop this massive mountain I feel at peace
I see every detail of the city
The city where my heart lies
The city where my heart beats
The rivers flow and come together in a sweet phenomenon 
The air is crisp here, as always
Everything
Everything
In view
No one else can grasp
The awe standing here
Here over the city
Seeing it all
In bustling beauty.


Details | Free verse | |

ANOTHER REASON TO HATE THIS SEASON

It's time to put a hold on hobbies, except for the weekends,
watch less television, and go to sleep around ten;
and if any of the teens came home after nine,
they would be grounded and denied privileges...
they would have another reason to hate this season!


I had the same unhappy feeling about school,
September was the least liked month for any boy,
and that meant playing no games, or flirting with girls
in shady parks, or baseball fields...but all in all,
it was a challenge to break away from those indulging things:
like children who had another reason to hate this season!


Details | Free verse | |

South Side Soothsayers

" I'm a bum,"  he said
on a hazy evening.
Standing on the corner
of East Carson Street,
South Side of Pittsburgh.

" Everyone has the potential
for genius!"

His words echo of the cracked
conglomerate of sidewalks
bearing the daily burden of 
many passing,
shopper's unaware steps.

" We are all born with
the same number of brain
cells, little lady."

Was he telling me that
genius is bred within each
and not created?

"Intelligence and brilliance
burdens the streets!"

Decaying brown leather
shoes step on the ashes
dust from the menthol light
he had bummed  from me.

" Addiction, my dear, 
is all in the mind. I paid
five dollars for a cigarette
once,"

He laughs while cradling
the nicotine filled column
between his heavy aged
fingers.

" I don't need this anymore 
than you do, anymore than
anyone needs anything."

Tossing the butt into
the ominous slits of
the pitched sewer 
grate and then solemnly 
strolled away stating,

" Don't you know it's all
in the mind, my dear,
all in the mind."


Details | Free verse | |

New Orleans

Mad night, mad night,
all the colours and the light
play tricks on the whirling mind.  
Thick the air with hidden stares 
from masked figurines.
Death hides amidst the crowd,
wearing a collar of beads.
Morbid debauchery, crazed song and dance,
the reincarnation of Bacchus 
is looking for the chance
to break the lyre and end the song
of Orpheus at last!


Details | Free verse | |

Showers on Main Street

Upcountry thunder
turns the plain milled storefronts
to shades of muscat-grape
and citron, dusky rose. 
Pavement ripples with reflections
never thought before, 
as clouds pass
dark as bedrock, molten 
at the core.


Details | Free verse | |

Greecian Geek

Completely agitated,
By the lack of understanding;
That allegedly makes up this place,
Unsincere in their "adult" demeanor,
Liars of federal truth,
Yet their paychecks speak non-fiction,
The mass of delegators, think they can mold me;
A statue that has already been set in stone,
Chiseled in imperfection, raw materials of an impressionist era,
This marking, is the least changeable,
I don't believe in gold, for it belongs to the fools
I be red; like the blood, from Titans, who represent Sparta,
A gladiator, with an olympic tongue;
Even my enemies are shushed to silence,
And so will they, if not by my antics then by my speech;
"Countrymen, lend me your ears, here the stakes I raise"
Take notice of the finger I hold prouldy up towards the sky,
Like a waving flag


Details | Free verse | |

October Breathes

October loves me
September baby
Virgo across its face 
Out of it’s play pen
This child 
decides to spin

In a vacant scenery
Thinking back
On what yesterday 
meant to me
He’s going on
It won’t be long
As he’s carried home

Don’t you love me sober
Days I’m drifting
Along In October

She just sits there
Someone hold her
Kiss her sober
Missing all the fun
Just growing older

Flowers ale
Roses 
Paint you pale
Broken, shapeless
Only strangers notice
The rain 
That follows hail

Jesus Seekers
Leaves bristle 
Against 
a fallen preacher
your father’s gone
Running home
No ones worried 
That your gone

Don’t you love me sober
It’s almost over
For days I’m drifting now
Alone in October 





Details | Free verse | |

So Nice

The last time we met I noticed
the bright red flowers in your hair,
Milk soft skin radiating through 
heaven’s gate I wanted to kiss 
your tender hand.

Knees buckling from the sweet scent 
of your perfume, our bodies locked like
falling birds, We kissed and ran as fast 
as we could like two kittens playing with 
a ball of yarn.

Landing on our feet, we walked along the 
crimson cobblestone streets, At our favorite 
sidewalk café we talked and shared this 
wonderful moment.

We celebrated life with French bread and good 
wine. It was nice to see your lovely smile remain, 
on an empty glass of wine and a bite of bread.


Details | Free verse | |

Cader Idris

Whispering shadows
Echo in the rustling rough grasses 
Guiding a climber’s path,
Footholds of hope and possibility
Encourage the next step up
Breaths of acceptance
Pause briefly in the panorama
Before potential’s hand lifts the weary
To the mountain peak
Where destiny waits.


Details | Free verse | |

Arthur as I am known

In the primitive time,
Adam as I am known,
A rock in my hand.
what do I hunt?
what do I hunt?
beating the rocks, 
there was fire,
burnt my hair.

In the medieval time,
Arthur as I am known,
A sword in my hand.
what do I hunt?
what do I hunt?
sitting in a pose,
cut down a sculpture,
made some art.

In the urbanised world,
Hitler as I am known,
A gun in my hand.
what do I hunt?
what do I hunt?
crazy were my thoughts,
blew my brains out,
after I burnt the world out.

In the futuristic world,
I don't what I am called,
A light saber in my hand.
what do I hunt?
what do I hunt?
electrocuted a  mouse,
In the future what I do,
how the hell will I know?

How ever far a man has come,
his time, his name would not matter.
for what he would create,
hunger is his main drive.
consequences of his actions are not his.
victims of his little creations,
are the ones who surround him.


Details | Free verse | |

what do you do today and tomorrow

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

So three of your friends get murdered
and you hear your next
what do you and your girlfriend do
run away
or wait to overdose
and die like the rest?

Do you light her house on fire
to go looking for help
to be misdiagnosed for ten years
on medication that finally drives you crazy
or do you hunt them down?

What's the better of two evils?
what's the best example you can make for your community
no matter the price you keep paying

and then the knowledge of crooked cops
dirty lawyers
and malpractioning doctors 
as your life becomes a game

Welcome to the merry go round
welcome to my life
welcome to the tears i cry
because everyone now sees they got away
and i continually pay the price
and secxond chances never come
and no one listens to the truth
so if this happens to you think twice


Wanna know why there are gangs
read this again
wanna know why there are kids with guns
and juvenile kids with methods of madness
running from broken homes
well read it again slide between the lines
and realise this isnt allowed
and for everything i wanted 
I'm still Uninvited

So I'm heading to the city of angels
If i can ever find a compass and a map
a fake passport
because i have a fortune telling plan
know soo much of poisoning the well
and Canada
is a death trap
i can't run away from fast enough
but here i am the joke dressed in suicide
yet again
calling on the world
asking for forgiveness
begging for a chance to cross the border
with the idea for the perfect conspiarcy and crime
for a pulitzer prize

But what do you do
What is the better of two evils
Ignorance is bliss
and knowledge is power
but in your jail system I'll be reading fortunes
for cigarettes
and washing our sins clean protesting and rioting for healthcare
inside the system
while i martyr myslef again
and cry once every hour





Details | Free verse | |

Dickensian Time

In Dickensian time 
Upon sunset hour
Overshadowing Thames
Is London Tower
Blackened cobble streets
Shimmer in the rain
Big Ben at Westminster
Chimes an eight bells refrain

At Euston Station
A passenger alights
On Platform 3
And enters the caff
for a nice cup of tea

At the local tavern
Behind steamy windows
The opportunists sit
Gleaning local gossip
Ever watchful to ensnare
Any hapless stranger 
come wandering there

Covent Garden
still well lit
As lamplighters
carry out their remit
Striding with ladders
about old London town
With a cheery wave
and a purposeful frown

Patrolling policemen
in forbidding places
Echoing footfalls
as boots make paces

A courting couple shelters
under the arches
Oblivious to passerby's
and dray cart horses

A hackney driver cracks his whip
As high stepping hooves
on cobbles clip

From Westminster
stove pipe hatted M.P.s from
parliament sitting
enter a members club
to continue their
political discourses
unremitting

Mudlark urchins ankle deep
in moonshine glow
watch chugging steam boats
along the Thames flow 

Billingsgate Market's
straw boated and 
stripe aproned men
are found sluicing
with brooms in hand
the blood drenched ground

Along the West End thoroughfares
Come wealthy patrons
in open carriages with lantern flares
wearing evening attire
Bejewelled ladies in fanciful frocks
And around bare shoulders
Stoles of mink and silver fox
They ascend the red carpeted stairs
And look towards the royal box

A pretty young street seller
of violets and roses
with straw basket on hip
proffers up the scented poses

A peasouper fog blankets from
Thames to chimney tops
As a trader hooks his shutters down
Outside his haberdashery shop

Across London Bridge the East End rabble
Trail homeward to Hackney, Bethnal Green
and Whitechapel

From an open pub door
streams a music hall tune
played on an accordion
in a crowded tap room

Wending amongst the walkers
in the Strand
run beggarly children
with outstretched hand.

And......
Charles Dickens
walks the streets
at night
taking note 
of every sight.




Details | Free verse | |

Immigration In Texas

In Texas, we measure time with a cow’s height
the calf, the heifer, the yearling, the cow, 
the calf, the bull, the steer, the steak. 

In Texas, the sun climbs fast in summer
and enjoys sitting five feet over your bald spot. 
It reflects, in your eyes, off the dullest of rocks.

In Texas, there is a beautiful girl behind every tree
and all the axes are rusted, chain-saws are fronted on. 
Anything with a leaf and so tall you can't see over, is a tree..

In Texas, God sits in a cloud and underneath him 
we hope he cries, for we allways need water,
if he doesn’t, we thank him for the shade.

In Texas, the edge of the sky is over your neighbor’s house
and young men in Mexico see the edge and takes off
to find it, to become the next “Kings of Texas.” 


Details | Free verse | |

I-lands

The vast earth carries
Jungles, deserts, and prairies
Forests, farms, dairies, and
Islands that tend to vary,

Seasons fall upon
Winds the earth spawns
Crimson, emerald, and brown
Pictures are drawn beyond,

The azure drizzles
Aglow, the sun glimmers
Breezes stealthily waft
Followed by 
Blowing or waltzing drafts,

The vast earth carries
Sunflowers, roses, and daisies,
Shimmering, lavish gems
Held by varying stems,

Bounty where beauty stands
Stretching afar as it expands   upon
The vast earth and its wealthy sands
 
Carrying jungles, deserts, prairies, and
          I-land tending to vary…


Details | Free verse | |

World We Live In

This evil world we live in,
is a wild rat race,
a people of global sin,
an earthly disgrace,

Killing here, stealing there,
Bloodshed and thievery everywhere,
global hatred, beyond repair,
Governmental graft, so unfair,

The chance of peace,
not in the air,
The causes of disease,
burns like a flare,

Never to appease,
only make aware,
all of these....
a global scare.


Details | Free verse | |

The Leeward Side

There is a moment when the senses fade
their beating on the walls of personhood.
It is the moment when the test begins,
the probe into the secret places of the earth, 
the waiting places on the leeward isles
that drum into our hearts, 
the flaming places set apart 
because they set ablaze
the mystery of doubt.

Such is the stuff of longing,
not the blatant hunger to possess
called forth from every lorelei of greed.
Heroic need is drawn 
from deep within the wellspring of desire
that core of humankind, the inner child
that loves through tears,
that hopes in faith
and sends out affirmations of aplomb 
to shame the day.

It is the leeward side, assailable,
that draws the kisses of the wind—
the side most ready with its open heart
to sing of beauty,  to feed the mind,
to fuel the passion for a truth
we would not see inside the storm.

This is the matrix of a true desire, 
the peace to live in joy,
to love in bold extravagance,
to be, that all be well
and even bravest hearts may swell.
                    ~


Details | Free verse | |

I Do

Admist the rocky mountains
And the natural springs 
Comes a better place I remembered things

under this lamp post is where
you first asked me to take 
your hand in marriage 

I remember you down on 
one knee and the snow was 
just starting to fall 

You looked like a little lost puppy 
looking for a way to speak I
took your hand and said yes

That was over twenty years ago
And to this date we still come back
to the Springs of Colorado and say I Do



Tribute To Colorado
Rocky Mountain High


Details | Free verse | |

It Takes Two {Caricare}

It Takes Two


twin

towers

delusion






Tribute To Those Lost
In The Twin Towers
You Are Not Forgotten
{RIP}


Details | Free verse | |

-In His Presence-

Any time or place
that we close our eyes
and fold our hands,
we are alone with Him
in His Presence

-By Faith-

And there is nothing else.

For,
what can separate us 
from the Love of God ?.....

But for now, we are alone

in His Presence.


Details | Free verse | |

Louisiana

Memories of childhood.



I weep hidden among the shadows of my stained glass window.
I long for the scent of magnolis when the wind blows.
Sunrise over plantations casting shadows,
under the old oak trees,
with dangling moss, as the winds toss,
the echoes of children's voices through the air.
Dream! Do you dare?
Screened in porches, wooden rocking chairs.
The scent of jasmine blowing through the air.
Sleep my weeping willow.
Moonlight beams through my stained glass window.
Louisiana, where it never snows,
barefoot children and old dirt roads.
Mississippi River paddle wheelers, swampland, cattails, and strawberry fields.
Listening to calls of whippoorwills.
The hot humid bayou of Louisiana, I wish for the days when I was a child.
Ladies and gentlemen, southern beauty smiles.
Swampland for miles.
Mardi Gras krewes made their way down St. Charles Avenue.
Crowds of people pushed to get view.
The smell of cigars, cigarettes, sweat, bourbon, and beer.
Tons of people spread Mardi Gras cheer.
Sounds of musicians on Bourbon Street.
Woodpeckers pecking a rhythm of beats.
Harmonicas echoing late in the night.
A place where at dusk mosquitoes bite.
Water moccassins lurk in summertime.
Backyard barbeque and strawberry wine.
Early risers over beignets, and walks along the river banks,
underneath the cypress tress, a cool perfumed wistera breeze.
And though I weep in the silence of my soul,
with memories of yesterday along the railroad.


Details | Free verse | |

The Floral Garden

My eyes drank in the beauty of this magnificent floral garden

My senses became aware of the deep intoxicating aromatic sweetness

That hung heavily in the air

My mouth savored, my nostrils pulled in glorious scents

It left me clinging, longing ,to remain in this exotic haven

With each step the aromas became aromatic scented treats

As I walked down this enchanting pathway

I breathe the thick fragrance that hung  in the air

As the gate opened I slipped inside the  flower garden

It was so vibrant, so colorful, so powerful

That it overwhelmed my sense of smell

As I drank in the beauty before me

I thought, I am so happy to be alive

To feel, to see, to smell and drink in this floral beauty.


Details | Free verse | |

Sweet Pancakes (Epulaeryu)

Maple syrup on the top
Hash browns on the side
Scrambled eggs with peppers too
Sweet pancakes for you
They’ll taste delicious
With cold milk
Wow!




The “Epulaeryu” consists of seven lines with thirty-three (33) syllables.   The first 
line has seven (7) syllables, the second line five (5), the third line seven (7), the 
fourth line five (5), the fifth line five (5), the sixth line three (3), and the seventh line 
has only one (1) syllable which ends with an exclamation mark.  It’s all about 
delicious food. The Epulaeryu poem was developed by Joseph Spence after 
enjoying many delicious and nourishing international cuisine and drinks during 
his most memorable travels.


Details | Free verse | |

Heavenly Saturdays

On Saturday
they say
heaven feels closer
penetrating cigarette
smoke
a poser forgets that the
choke
is universal
mercurial
and shivering
as the buzzard circles
a carcass deserted
but tolerated by 
those determined
and quivering
but the faithless
push past the putrid
and dwell on what’s heartless
they transform the scene
and taint the evidence
in between
they chum up the killers
fisher’s of recompense
and kings of the wondering
as souls puncture the
cigarette smoke
to attack the clanging clock
made of slag wastage
gleaming black
against the
Saturday sun 


Details | Free verse | |

i wish you a good day

the spill outwards of  a new day
the waterfall
la cascada ...

what and where have you been?
the trials and tribulations-
are you so removed from me?
do the rocks of a shallow bottom
prevent you from
being my hero
from diving therein?

does one speak with an unhinged tongue?
do we come back
together ?

like pieces of the puzzle
do we grip one another with
uncertainty?
just to say 
goodbye!

so
once when we get it again ...
we realize
our fleeting
moment ...

i love everyone
and as usual,
i'll spill over the edge -

let the intensity be
the lava in my mind

goodbye
and
good  luck

it means everything!

(i'm molten)


Details | Free verse | |

Where on earth

When
the buds are tender green,
Then,
the fig leaves begin to sprout
None,
will mistake this endtime scene....
Earth
itself......will shout !


Details | Free verse | |

Kaleidoscope Pixies

Watching the sunlight shatter
and regroup to sliver again
in refractory bliss across the bay
evening shadows lengthen
and the kaleidoscope pixies
play across my eyes
while the silent hiss of suns' set
under rose and lavender skies
etches my life.


Details | Free verse |