(This poem was inspired by my friend's grandma who said, and I quote, "You can hug anyone you want to." I dedicate it to all the sweetie poets who give "hugs.")
You can hug anyone you want to.
It's something everyone can do.
(There are many reactions from one act.
Proceed with caution so you don't get smacked.)
You can hug any way you like.
Keep it loose, or grab 'em tight.
Hug with a manly guttural noise,
or hug like a lady with grace and poise.
Sometimes just one hand will do.
Hug the way that best suits you.
Hug to ward off tears and sorrow.
Hug like you're going to die tomorrow.
Hug sister Suzy. Hug uncle Al.
Hug anyone to make a new pal.
Hug 'em big. Hug 'em small.
Hug 'em one. Hug 'em all.
Hug 'em in a group or two by two,
so the pleasure's not all about you.
Hug with a spin. Even make it an art.
Just make sure you hug with your heart.
It's as simple as a shoulder shrug.
Everybody could use a hug.
You can hug anyone you want to.
Watch your back, cuz I might hug you.
Jake took to the stage, limping with a leg brace
And more than a mere trace of fear on his face
The humorous speech competition was on
He’d made it to finals, prior contests he’d won
Jake’s lifelong bout with muscular dystrophy
Generated sadness and much empathy
He shook and stammered as he started his speech
Competitors thought his composure he’d breach
“Stage fright is shared by many,” the boy explained
And as he began, his eye contact seemed strained
We wanted to rush to his side, offer aid
Little did we know Jake’s point was being made
He’d soon have us laughing at the “crutches” WE use
To gain confidence when stage fright ensues
“I’m picturing you all naked,” he laughed, smiled
Soon his sharp wit had us rolling in the aisle
His strength and courage built fast as he spoke
Jake finished up with a memorable poke:
“You thought I would fail; I read it in your eyes
Seeing only my handicap, I realize.
Those who can’t see beyond disabilities
Are mired in self fear; YOU have MY sympathy.”
Out of four thousand entrants, Jake took first place
Impressing us all with his wisdom and grace
Oh, how we all cheered when his win was announced
Jake’s humor skills were by far the best pronounced
Today Jake coaches a college debate team
Having mastered the art of building esteem
*I was fortunate to see Jake give his amazing speech at the national collegiate speech and
debate finals in Niagara Falls. Like many others, I had feared he was truly
experiencing “stage fright.” But he used his humor to make us see that people often exceed
beyond the abilities others think they have. If he didn’t see himself as “disabled,” why
should anyone else? And what tremendous success he’s had in his career! His message had
a profound impact on a lot of other college students.
Globally, miners jubilantly jump for joy
Smiles on the faces of every girl and boy
The grins of a newly opened Xmas toy
Trade unionists bounce along the street
Music blaring and the tapping of feet
From nurses to Bobbies still on the beat
Street parties announced in the nation
Satan who brought economic inflation
Is deceased, now’s the time for elation
Its times like this I’m sad I’m an atheist
And can only shout and wave my fist
And then go to the pub and get pissed
A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
Cookies are addictive!
OoOoH! Here's one to snatch!
Okay...where's the chocolate chips?
Kraving too many of these treats
I want some now! But...I might get beeefy...
Every bite is mouthwatering, soft and crisp
Should I take another cookie?
Sense of humour, elevating our spirits
Musing over the simple things in life, rejoicing at what we find
Imagination stimulated, childlike, seeing the wonders in life
Light heartedness, laughing at one’s self!
Everything as it is meant to be, smiling, enjoying, the gift of life
P aranoia permeates, etching itself into your fractured face,
A cacophony of constant pressure; life remains a stressful race,
N othing to hope for, no positives like promotion in the workplace,
I nability to love, relationships lift anchor and set sail without chase,
C hildren crushing dreams under mortgages; age grows with disgrace
You are one of the reasons
Why they inflate their quote
If you had seized the seasons
Good men could have had your vote
You are one of the reasons
Why our sweet land has gone sour in waste
Here is one of your multiple treasons
You aid corruption just to suit your taste
You are one of the reasons we wedge weighty wrath
Bombs daily detonate like fickle fireworks far north
You decided to do nothing but shut your mouth
So they took our weary sail south
You are one of the reasons the land is inflicted with rape
Overflowing in abundance yet you mong like a greedy ape
Alas our land is grey and old but not due
And it hurts me to know that I am also you.
A poem wrote by me, based on Person who is a deserving icon but still struggling hard with his career life and addressed as disturbed creature.
DISTURBED CREATURE--> Am I ?? BY Mrs.Madhavi Suyog Pagare
Am I so insane, Am I so mad,
Dramatic mood of mine is so die hard.
Destroyed my peace, Shattering my dreams,
People call me as disturbed creature.
As like mounting the pain, attenuating the drain!!
Digesting my feelings lying inside me,
Strangely nobody cared, call me sick.
Teasing me lavishly and my heart is pricked,
Hurted me like hell when addressed me as stupid.
As like showering rain, missing on the lane!!
Time lapse in journey of life,
Can hamper anybody on its path.
When I see innate reflex of mine,
I always use to brightly shine.
Though possessing every job attributes of mine,
I never thought the authorities will ditch and hamper my career line.
Falsely acting bloody swine, making my image as fade as wine.
As like affecting harmonious divine, my soul was, as is transparently pristine!!
Destroying me and testing my patience, Never wanna give up.
Transformed deviations, wanna rightly screw up.
I wanna raise up, I wanna shake up.
I wanna wake up, Tranquilize my mind.
Unzip the professional life compressed by the culprits.
Wanna explore myself, driving the motivated heights of journey.
Lastly waiting for the optimistic opportunity.
Cuffing the suspect ,I wanna rejoice by my pattern of life!!
with Suyog Pagare
She was a tappin' to the tunes...
of those Mississippi blues...
step-pin' out, in her white...
We were a watchin' her a prancin',
all through the kitchen, dancin'...
for she was so...hot & sizzlin'...
hummin' to those Mississippi tunes...
Funny curlers too, upon...
her head...for a new... Hair dew,...
she was, a swirlin'-in that bakers apron,
when her head...star-ted a bobbin' to...
those Mississip-pi blues,
'Pots were a knockin'...
Grandma a sockin' down all she brews,
while that kettle there was whistlin',
in har-mo-ny, with them good ole...
good ole...mississip-pi moves,'
That floor there, was a bouncin'
holdin' hands we were a jumpin',
an-a hoppin' In the kitchen, to those...
Where Grandma's feet were a stompin',
In her new...New-white-sexy-pat-en-
Oh the internet
A battle ground for morons
Will we ever learn?
I’m sure you’ve heard of the Great King Arthur and Lancelot’s well-known fame.
But there was yet another knight, of great glory and great fame, never named.
His name was whispered constantly, everywhere, around those hollowed halls.
For no one wanted to be near when he passed by, on his famous unerring walks.
A knight so very gallant, that he would bow to: every fashion of maiden, high or low.
So fierce his life could not be taken, no matter how sharp the blade, they did throw.
A musical quality followed him everywhere, and his livery was absolutely divine.
He would have been the perfect knight, except for one minor, itty bitty, tiny flaw…
What was his name, you may ask, and what led to such glory and illustrious fame?
He was Sir Dragon Sparkle Farts, and yes, you can guess, what earned him that name.
You see, an evil witch, he once did fight, and yes… he absolutely won, most verily.
But before the witch became undone, she sprinkled a curse upon his own, to be.
Whenever others are about, you guessed it, yet again; he had sparkle farts, my friend.
Do not laugh; he was to all, a dearest friend. Tho the trouble caused, was rampant, in the end.
You see, in that time the villages were all made with beautifully made, thatched roofs…
He flew betwixt and between, yet, an occasional spark now airborne, did veer off, poof!
So for the most part he walked in town, though the wheat fields were often, set off.
At least the castle was made of stone, though many a tapestry did not survive, well off.
Indeed, a water bucket brigade, became put at his disposal, simply all the time, amen!
And nobody did tickle him, for fames from both ends, became quite rampant then.
Laughter did, yes, the same… But hiccups brought utter flame throwing despair, to all.
Still he was a beloved knight, so the round table was set to keep his back, to the wall.
The knights all stuck together, thru thick and thin, and yes, even thru his sparkle farts.
But with great sadness: of why such a fierce warrior, could be forgot, I now impart.
You see, his name Sir Dragon Sparkle Farts, did not ring, minstrels romantic thoughts.
Historians, thought his references, just crude, forgettable laughable jokes, The Sots!
But know, when Camelot finally fell, and even he could not stop that inevitable tide.
He flew away, to the great blue North, they say, where with snow and ice, he abides.
Now, young and old, do not be sad… For the moral of this fable holds:
All he did was: for his friends and the Greater Good… He cared not for Glory or Gold.
Yet he lets bad things happen
How can he exist?
E-Z Glo Punk, Lightning Flash,
TNT Devices will burst, do crash
Southern Night, Piccolo Petes
are hard to beat...
I like hand held Sparklers, Tanks
flashing fountains, Solar Flare
Six to #20 Gold I have to share,
no incidence, no burns, thanks...
Whistles blow, fountains glow,
pop'n sounds, entire sky all aglow
I love those colors, high an low
trails eched onto my retina
inspired me to let ya know
Now you close both eyes
in pitch dark, what a surprise
for you to see, right there
darkness, absolutely anywhere
beautiful trails of lights in motion
"Always read a label of caution"
No valentine on Valentine's.
I haven't met one yet.
Each year I wait another
for a person I've not met.
There's nothing I've done wrong:
yet waiting is in vain.
And all that's left is hope
that love's a ball and chain.
Why can’t I have the chocolate one
I want more
She took my cookie
Hers is bigger than mine
I want to trade
That’s not fair
Thank you for the cookie
I love you
Thanks for all you do for me
I am satisfied
This is good
I am loved
Written By Deborah Finneran :) 2013
Beauty of nature
Why condense it down to God?
Isn’t life enough?
To Gloomy Gus and his brother Rotten Russ,
as well as all of their devoted followers on this planet:
cheer up fellows, I know that life can be tough;
but there is a lot of happy, joyful positive stuff
happening on this big old swirling twirling ball
of rock, dirt, sand and water that we call earth.
Go to the hospital and watch a newborn baby smile.
Go to the playground and listen to a young boy
laugh and giggle because his friend let rip a fart.
Go to the neighbors’ house and observe their six year old
daughter try to walk upright while wearing her mother’s
high heel shoes and her grandmother’s big floppy hat.
All of you negative nabobs, turn your frowns upside down and
smile every once and a while. Life is short, but it is well worthwhile.
Your love pricks me like a rose each thorn grows but no one knows Your so full of
it as it shows so carry on now go on, go. I'm fed up with the phony and i'm
through with the tears, you couldn't pay me all your money to make up for those
years. Someone help me I feel faint how could I think he was such a saint and
worst of all I let me fall into a spiral down below. A magic called love carried
by the dove of someone I use to know.
Oh lonely Inevitable Bear,
Padding claws, death in white
Sorrow in recurring nightmare
Instinct’s test; fight or flight?
Camouflage against the fence,
A challenge; my subconscious fear
Ominous slowly moving silence,
“Let me in, there’s a bear out here!”
The wild berries of the Northwest
it seems every path you walk on , they are there for you to sample ,
Almost as The city of Portland itself is welcoming you with astonishing beauty, the view of a snow tipped Volcano , as if greeting you with a basket full of fresh wild Marion berries
The beauty, just picked plump , the color of dark purple
a fragrance to savor , what will I do ?
will I make a pie or preserves ?
Oh the pancakes and waffles , the Tillamook ice cream is a must ~
After rinsing the fresh picked Berries with water and dusting them with fine Sugar , a hint of cinnamon , if pie , waffle , or cake . maybe just plain ,
serve with whipped cream made from scratch and a leaf of mint .
The Salmon , the berries , roses and apples all in the Great Northwest ,
You may visit however be warned , for many have come this way
Many have travelled a far ,
For the great Spirit of This Northwest will encompass and astound you .
Begging your soul to stay and live the way of a Portlander .
Give me rain I say , for the green here will blind you, it is
like walking off the black and white set of Wizard of Oz,
and opening the amazing door to Colors .
Friday night and I am already high as a kite plus this is a girl’s night out.
I will take a nap to lower my high and awaken ready to party.
This is my night to enjoy me.
I am awoke and sober.
The clock ticks four p.m.
My arousal is provoking incitement.
Humor the soul
Ignite the spirit
This is my night out.
I move to my closet and chose my outfit.
My selection is a sky blue maxi.
I smile mentally and know this well get me attention.
I am single by the way; however, I have had prior engagements.
In the club now, loud and rowdy, my wit will not end.
I am drinking bourbon.
Shall I go straight tonight or am I a gay girl?
My sexual feeling is driving me wild.
Has my sex partner made it in the house?
Humor the soul
Ignite the spirit
This is my night out.
Boisterous I precede.
He enters via the east wing.
He is dressed to kill.
I sashay toward him.
Someone pulls me on the dance floor.
He takes a seat and waits for me with eyes glowing.
The dance ends.
He holds out his hand.
Together we leave.
Specters we are.
This is my night out.
Penned on May 07,2014!
For Kelly's Deschler Night Owl Contest!
To Dine, To Die;
While thunderous eyes
Grasp concepts to recycle.
Constant debt crisis
A political paradox
Grating social devices
Over the sorting of socks.
An endless groan
The debate grants no throne.
Over a roast
Potatoes won't listen
To who talks the most.
"That point is so interesting"
The floor is open for chat
"What is real?" not a thing
"Meow" adds the cat.
This record player has a switch
Then there is the pitch and ditch
The English weather:
Rainclouds follow us from home
There is no escape.
I do not know?
Greetings, good and kind fellow Soup-ers!
'Tis wonderful, I say,
to be a Soup-er, so if I may,
I humbly request you to lay down your pen dipped in fine ink,
and visit my blog which can be found at the following link:
Now if this blatant self-promoting of mine seems rude,
I ask for your generous forgiveness, dear fellow Soup-er,
And wish you a day, that is peaceful, kind, and just plain super!
So cheers from the scribbler for now,
and as I take leave, my fellow Soup-ers,
I, in courtesy, to you all, do bow!
Welcome! Take a seat, and please do slouch.
In fact, lay down on this psychiatric couch.
Tell me, exactly what ails you today?
You say your head hurts. Explain, in what way?
Is this problem new or ongoing for years?
What are some of your biggest fears?
Tell me all about your childhood.
Was it traumatic or mostly good?
Is your family close or full of strife?
Which activities are part of your life?
How do you feel about the opposite sex?
Are you dwelling on past regrets?
Have you been having recurrent dreams?
What are some of the common themes?
When conflict arises, how do you deal?
Tell me, how does that make you feel?
Less discuss some coping techniques.
How about we meet again in two weeks?
Here, take this prescription, and water with each dose.
Sharing poetry is about being close.
(i wonder what her parents would think of me)
impeccable is the beliveable if you just listen
lucrative is a much more charming effort
"Turn on the Radio "
he seems to be adamant insufficient....
(I better not say this out loud)
for sho aint for sure, but love would you know it when it come a knocking let it in,
remind me song
"Turn on the radio"
(I better say some like)
dear madam what i neglected to is say is that radio,
have a different tune if i may say for this generation music is a way of expression,
it doesn't define a character i know you heard of
twerking and doing chicken noodle soup but madam wait before you judge me! ! !
it more to story (then i start to think what if i had a child would i proof of that music)
let me explain to her how we first meet and be optimistic of the out coming?
"Turn on the Radio"
'the world is so cold why did you let me stand there (lyrics) (then it hit me)
this is a small town and and if im think what she think and we aint got to exchange last name to make it official,
I know im the "kingdom of hearts" beloved hold me to it but
from what my parents had luck and how you and i we meet when we was three years old your parents knew me before I knew my self....
speak of how i know that is because,
i have a niece that is four who wont stop talking about some boy at
(wait that a funny incidence or per luck)
"Turn on the Radio"
was she hoping it was me then some other guy wait?
Am i the only one that goes to the movies with there family on a sunday? (Do i have to answer)
how we get on the same row?
lol it is other rows aint nobody here? man is this movie long? lol what am i to say.....
and what came to mind was the song from Corinne Bailey Rae' put on your records' and
say to myself some how some way im going to impression your parent just wait....
I do have internet radio site been put together songs since she's been away from college,
just happen out of the blue
"Turn on the Radio"
who is listen to this songs any how? who I mean whom? I mean?
(crying crying, cry-I-n-G I-n-G,)
some reason I can't get lyrics off my mind I'm no singer this are just hobbies so what do that make you the song or lyrics...
I wrote for purpose instead of reason who is to judge me, may it be love! ! !
Oh old mobile phone
Thanks for fixing my toilet
Now scared to touch you
You would not know the beauty of light.
were it not for the existence of night
You would not know to fear the dark
were it not for the joy that lives inside your heart.
We live our lives by comparison,
you know this to be true.
When nothings worthy of your greatest defense,
you have nothing much to lose.
Why long for touching the sky
when you barely know how to walk?
Why start staring contests with the walls.
(I told you long ago, they DO not talk!)
Why dread something will end
if it never really began?
Why build yourself a home
if all you have is sand?
Why dream at all
when nothing is guaranteed?
Why take the leap of faith
when you're most likely gonna bleed?
You think it's all just a game
because life dealt you a crappy hand.
You gotta ask questions, and take nothing for granted,
if you can ever wish to understand.
It's perfectly normal
to let the floodgates gush out,
or get bloody knuckles
from thrashing at trees.
With all your strength keep forging ahead,
it's what's life's all about.
When the path set before takes leaps and dives,
you say yes, please,
and thank you kindly!
We don't bother with the spiel;
Shoulda, woulda, coulda
for that does nothing for you.
Indeed there is a time for everything,
and right now the time to fortify
is long overdue.
It's you who do none or these things:
lose control, stumble, and cry out,
who are the ones I say a prayer for.
Even keymakers and wisdom teachers
take month long vacations.
Sometimes you just gotta kick down the door!
And say "Here I am, now take your best shot!
I'm ready to claim what I have so passionately sought!"
It's time we take this transformation
from squeamish boys into sturdy men.
I'll give your personality a good hard kick in the stones,
you need only say when.
Thoughts displaced by rolling palpitations,
From left to right grow these numbing sensations,
A face which spirals down, drooping from smile to frown.
Time hibernates in this moment protracted,
Legs bow and shake to our drama just acted,
Senses into overdrive, does pain show you’re still alive?
Oxygen masks, Coxes’ rowing commands,
Heart beat machines is what love demands,
“You need time to relax”, prescriptions from Quacks,
Is love just a commonplace heart attack?
My girlfriend telling me
That my love talk is useless
So I throw away all the love poems
I write for her while feeling depress
That same day it start snowing
The place was cold as ice
She calling next to her
So she on the sofa looking very nice
Now she feeling cold
She said come here honey
I said bee sucks honey from flowers
And flowers can give allergy
She looks at me like I crazy
What the hell you talking bout
I said hell is a place for bad people
And they you can never come out
I use to tell her I love you
With my words and poem
Then she says my words are stupid
So now I would not repeat them
She said my conversations
Of love are meaningless
And now I don’t show my love again
She said I’m cold and heart less
I don’t have education or degree
All I have is the facts of lie
To make a happy home and be faithful
And always love my beautiful wife
But she talks to some of her friends
About some divine way to see eternity
Like if any that will help me
To pay my bills and care for my family
Now I read a lot of books
Because I never when to school
So now when she talks to me
I will no longer look like a fool
Now she feeling romantic
She says tell me you love me
I said there is love for pets, for friends and family
So can you put in a specific category?
She laughs and says you made your point
Now I completely understand
But I was looking to find the meaning
With a dictionary in my hand
I just want to be prepared
To learn as much information
So next time she with her friends
I could join in their intelligent conversation
“Go Figure…Those Weeblitz”… cry the Walliforth!
By Ingrid Showalter Swift
Of Walliforth...the Dreggors Gorth!
with calls of frobulation
The Spraliwongs do bleet and frong
In roudious trapulation
the Wonder Bigiums flaunt their sternest defra-get-ulation!!!
but still moril !
in magical mill…… in marvelous migration…
the Weeblitz sing
a lilty wing
Shuffling sandstone, infinite shimmering coloured pots,
TV remotes lie in tandem with jeans, shiny toy robots
Act as magnets to the unwary tourist, conspicuous in
Their presence, shorts and cameras, humid hair in knots.
Spices of hues in their hundreds to make you salivate,
Groaning shack tables of suspicious sunglasses sate
Your appetite for purchases, the sun beats down on
The market, Medina bursting with life which cannot wait.
Eyes flicker over unsuspecting strangers, enticing you
To buy, trapped by the lure of a carpet woven new
By sweating men grasping, chasing any chance to sell
The future. Will you ever use this carved snooker cue?
I do not know?
Illegitimi non carborundum ;-)
...Staggering, my vision cloudy,
I fall to the hard ground.
when life’s sharp left-jab leaves my face bloody,
and all that surrounds me, is the desolation of loss I feel all around.
I see myself slipping,
down the abyss to where nothingness exists,
still, I cling on, groping for a foothold,
for my will to stay persists.
I clamber up, I stand my ground, though battered and bruised I may be,
my curtain is not falling yet, I have some fight still left in me.
It is then, in the pit of despair, when all seems bleak and painful and dull,
I summon the strength from deep within,
I rise, slowly, to face the day,
I refuse to sink,
to wallow, to surrender, to throw in the towel,
for I am stronger now,
indeed I am, after all the years, and all the battles,
I stand, bruised and bloody,
I refuse, to sink, to drown,
for they can try, to punish me some more,
but I shall not allow them to grind me down…
Your eyes maybe small and deep set
But so piercing are their look
They maybe dark as the deep sea
But their shine and sincerity are my hook.
Your face is open like the sky
On which a canvas has been animated
It denounces a soul so alive
A mind so wide, a spirit so liberated.
Your look opens up a view
Of a will connected to the divine
Strong, unwavering around the truth
Beheld by a heart warm like the sunshine.
The lines around your face
Denote a life devoted to all
Sometimes rising in humorous waves
Either in amazement or having a ball.
Other times so very serious
with deep concerns, suffering
with those whose suffer, furious
At the evil forces that today cause such enmity.
Your face is like the book of life
A tapestry of many colors
That shows me what heaven is like
A portrait imprinted on my mind forever.
Copyright © 04.17.10
you giving a new life
we'er huaband and wife
for me you were just right
we fit too
for all you do
BABY GLAD I FOUND YOU
Starlings wait outside
for the blackbirds to come 'round
so they can kick butt.
Copyright © Cynthia Jones
I do not know?
Preparation and “To-Do-Lists” can never truly prepare you
For what great plans God has in store for each and EVERY one of us.
We may ourselves telling God our plans, which is probably
Quite humorous to Him.
His agenda will inevitably be carried out and is the perfect plan without a doubt.
I pray that all will be able to reach within themselves to find the person whom
God has intended them to be and be eager to fulfill God’s glorious plans as they
are always the best laid ones.
its make cool
have a drink and food
so you don't fold
to help you think