An ancient river, centuries-old shops and restaurants steeped in a 2000-year history and
culture set the scene. The ambiance seemed divinely contrived to facilitate the purposes of
our meeting and the very fodder from which the greatest poets are sustained.
Not newcomers to the area, Kay P. and I were assigned to the Army Security Agency Field
Station in Augsburg, Germany in 1974. We were colleagues in the intelligence community
with no romantic overtures to our relationship, save an appreciation of poetry and profound
philosophical discussions. Kay wanted to spend the evening with a poet, so we planned the
evening to be appropriate for the purpose.
At the time and place, we quickly found ourselves hopelessly immersed in the philosophical
foundations of my writings throughout the evening. It was the first time since Vietnam that
I'd felt worthy as a person. I still recall sipping the red wine and feeling the warmth of the
large hearth inside the Balkan eatery. I still see the swans gliding by on the Lech flowing by
When windowpanes begin to weep with autumn's chilly dew,
I'm taken back through seasons passed to one delight held true,
A rendezvous that time allowed, a gentle evening spent
Amid a time of long discord when days were dreary bent.
I feel the stretch upon my lips, the smile returns once more.
Again, I smell the Balkan fare prepared on Lech's old shore,
The mood is cast in high regard, the wine is tart and dry,
As Augsburg ripples in the wake when swans go gliding by.
The ancient windows frame our view and day begins to wane
As rivulets meander down and streak the dampened panes.
The ambiance of ages passed beseeched us not to leave
And held us in its warm embrace throughout the ebbing eve.
My heart was scarred, without regard and hardened by the war
But her esteem unveiled its worth, while nothing had before.
She saw the child that once was me, I'd long since cast aside,
And bade he climb astride his mount, engage his life and ride.
Now, she is but a memory, whose kindness soothed my heart,
For we embarked upon our lives on paths ordained to part.
Her subtle way escaped my eye till time had made it clear
That her esteem had set me free, that night I hold so dear.
The poetry that filled my soul remains these many years,
Impassioned in my warmest thoughts when autumn first appears,
When windowpanes begin to weep, a-glisten with the dew,
And I return to seasons passed, to one delight held true.
You, who are so perfect in my eyes, so beautiful- adorable, and I, so flawed, ugly, damaged and crawling with defects; why do you enjoy my company?
You, who are so sleek and slender, humming with a quiet intellect and a serenity about you, and I, so grossly overweight and pretentiously boastful and nervous; how can you abide my company?
You, who are a paragon of patience, so understanding and self-assured, and I, so insanely impulsive, so myopic and brimming with self-doubt; how do you stand my company?
You, who are so sweet, so considerably kind, so thoughtful and generous, and I, so bitter, so selfish, so self-absorbed; why do you choose my company?
You, who are so self-composed, full of self-control, so sound and stable, and I, so very neurotic, so completely compulsive and verily volatile; how can you tolerate my company?
You, who are so diligent, so driven and ambitious, so achieving, and I, so lackadaisically lazy, so uninspired, so complacent; why do you settle for my company?
You, who are ethical, so moral, so very virtuous, and I, so corrupt, so unprincipled, so wholly wicked; how can you endure my company?
You, who are so normal, so well-adjusted, so conventional, and I, so maniacal, so unbalanced and irrational; why do you condone my company?
You, who are bubbling with charm, who loves unconditionally and is absolutely accepting, and I, boiling with rage, fueled by misanthropy and incredibly intolerant; how can you welcome my company?
That you love and accept me for who and what I am, is a treasure beyond measure. I cherish your company, but why you cherish mine is something I cannot fathom. All I know is that I love you, my dear, beloved friend.
**This was written for two very dear friends: Karen and Tommy :)
***I also love palindromes ;)
*****FREE VERSE OLD AND NEW ENTRY
You are the wild flower in my palm
With no stem to keep you anchored to this covetous earth
You are the fragile thing I dare not cup,
As your petals whittle away under the wind
And flit unfettered in the air;
Exaggerated fear leaves my fingers numb
Hungry need leaves my fingers twitching
And my hand is paralyzed by turmoil
As every breath of wind takes another petal from me
And brings to my lungs, my chest and my heart
An overwhelming scent of need-
You are the wild beauty in my palm
And I dare not hold you to my chest
For I fear to crush you
To know first hand
That caged beauty, is beauty no more.
God is always love
Forever seek the kingdom;
Praise the creator
Keep giving what you can give
Please endure until the end
Protecting the meek ones earth
Watching over us
Helping us to cope with life
Comforted with hope and trust
When you find rhythm
You find your hearts inner core
Celebrate the times
Make them better than before
Reminisce and dance all night
Alone in loneliness
Amid forever nights
And these four walls
In faint, whisper soft your name
I beg out loud to the nothingness that remains
"Please not another nightmare, no more storms"
But, answers are merely glimpses of light
Filtering through the pane
Cast empty shadows on the wall
Of places where you used to be
Eyes wide open
Now asleep, afraid I am to fall
Trapped within this never ending dream
I cling to all the memories that I have
Spinning me closer to where you were, in parallel on the edge
The thoughts, like imaginary rubble, comes tumbling passed
A fire for you still burning inside
Why can’t I let go of the tragedies last
And silence your unrescued suicidal screams
Or is it only the rain falling faster as it taps harder, and harder upon the glass
Or is it of your wandering spirit
Haunting with its vindications
Of "why’s" I can never seem to grasp
All this amidst lost stares into black windows
Where gutters overrunning, burdened by the strains
And I swear I see your reflection
Among the flashes, tracing out illuminations about your face
And for the first time
You are noticeably absent of all the worldly pains
And your lips releasing out a comfort that for so long I've been seeking
As I hear the words echo within my stormy heart "That where you are everything is okay"
Mornings are dreadful time in life unless waking beside gorgeous woman hopefully
a not married one husbans can be such a downer.
And when ya wake to a warm beautiful creature by your side.
And the first thought that comes to your mind is i wonder whats for breakfest.
Then ya probaly cant read the menu to start with and desserve
to have a oversized weight lifter re arrange your ribs.
Im a southern man once means several things non of which means im normal.
And this morning finds my yerning for a trip and widespread mischief.
My amigo had vanished after are trip south of the boarder I remember saying
to myself as i watched him running naked across the dessert being chased
by the flying monkeys he was surley seeing after his consumption of a foreign substance
There goes a fine american.
I would have ran after him but but i didnt want thoose things to turn there attention to me
I herd they had a thing for southern actscents.
And theres nothing worse than a bunch of horney flying monkeys trust me
Ive delt with this problem befor.
and being it was happy hour i knew my slightly insane amigo would understand
in all his naked glory.
Besides I left him some sneakers and a sixpack.
And kept his credit card for safe keeping.
Naked men have no place to keep credit cards and I figured he was in no state to handle
So as i sit behind the wheel ready to to get lost in the madness of fast food and
the ant hill of insanity that is wall mart i turn my thoughts to vegas.
For where would a lost nude slightly insane person run to and feel at home.
I had turn the music up to drown out the sound of whoever was in the trunk.
I figured if i had put sombody in there in a drunken moment.
It had to be for a good reason.
And so with slightly hungover mindset are road begins.
and so with that do the games also.
And i figured hanging around with a cops wife wasnt the smartest idea.
That and im allergic to bullets.
My muse and 16 year old spirtiual advisor had phoned me to say that.
I probaly needed to Invest in the spirt of Jack Daniels today.
And hey she had went to church more than once so who was I to argue.
With a five five spitfire by the name of tinker.
so with A unknown companion in the trunk not helping my hangover i was off
to the races Untill next time kiddies.
Adios and im off to find my amigo.
We sit alone in the shadows outside,
Blowing smoke rings in the dark;
Watching them rise and then divide,
The cherry just a glowing spark;
This is what living is all about,
I’m more happy now than I care to admit;
Talking, laughing, and hanging out,
Just sitting here with our cigarettes lit;
Blowing smoke rings towards the sky,
Your simple words tugging at my heart;
I lean on your shoulder with a satisfied sigh;
And watch as they slowly drift apart;
Doing all the things we shouldn’t do;
I liked being here alone with you,
Blowing Smoke rings in the dark...
When all of youth flees
and even the whitest eye reddens, rheums,
words, fair words, dispel the gloom.
When hands are mapped with age and knurled,
still, they transform the page, the eye, the cage,
for where words flow, the mind goes,
to the pristine smiles and
the smooth curves which once were
yours, your cheek, your neck, your hip.
Deny me anything but the word
for it’s magic will soon be all that remains
of fleeting youth.
I don’t care if you have a degree
or that your self-published textbook
is a decree to take a closer look
at time-tested, armor plated antiquities.
I don’t care if you know your stuff,
fluffing your sleek, interlocked lines
and keeping things just so, just so
in ascot wearing, dandy rhymes.
I don’t care if you can recite
the Mikado in its entirety,
as you pose in the spotlight,
Yum-Yum for all posterity.
I care about the longing
that I found in the verse
of a friend, words filled with whys
that scattered a soft, rainy season
to the oblivious winds.
I care about the heart
that became a puzzle, tiny pieces,
a thousand tiny pieces calling
out for me to reassemble,
winged things both soaring
then suddenly falling like
art that almost trembled
in gentle riddles crafted to tease.
I care about the grip
that held the pen and how the paper
became damp and creased
as thoughts played in short stanzas,
tethered to honesty,
such a rare and noble quality,
even on the pages of poetry.
I care that caring is vanishing
like stone angels in cemeteries,
conversations on park benches or
the respect for ones peers:
those that dot their teary i’s,
those that shiver in life's trenches,
those that scry with ink, language seers.
They ask so little in return,
Only the freedom to search for truth,
in their own voice, in their own time,
and safety from condemnation,
ruthless lies and snobbery.
I care about a forgotten virtue.
I care about decency.
Blood that screams mixes with tears of fears,
Over your hypocrisy and useless years.
Fresh cuts don't matter - your attentions yet wane.
It's just too easy to shut down, I could end this pain.
But, escape artists aren't artists at all.
When life ends the real journey begins, the journey to be
Above imperfection and glorified weakness everyone sees.
Life trickles into the drain of the sink, wash it and pretend
The veil is burning off,but there is only so much fire can mend
Besides, escape artists aren't artists at all.
Inspired by one of my favorite bands, Rise Against, and the song is called,
“Ever-changing” (Acoustic). Please listen to this song if you don’t know of it. It’s raw &
“Have you ever been a part of something? That you thought would never end. But then, of
course, it did.” –Rise Against
“I fell in ‘Like’ with you”
With her smile
I melted unto oblivion’s redemption
Candy coated perceptions, windows’ gap
Seeping brilliance refreshment
Uncertainty resolution, polished
Absorbed into closeness sun
Yet these eyes still…see
Butterflies taking notice, missing you…as you stood in front of me
Strong, yet soft legs
Foundation of my face to rest upon
A cremated sin
Yet, elongated moments of silence
Created abruption’s new face
The face of change
When she turned to me and said
“I’m not sure, anymore”
Emotional lullaby, rocking me to sleep
New battles with spectral flashback
Trying to get under my skin, a drunken tick facing demise
Phoenix’s sunrise, rejuvenating my recycled defenses
Yet, today, these rays just aren’t bright enough to burn sadness away
And with these sounds of storm clouds & Fall on horizon’s breath
These grounds are so familiar, yet bittersweet
This heart doesn’t want to be enlightened by karma today
It wants to be held for how it shines now
Denied…distance wins again today
Slavery whipped punishments in miles and blocks
This must end
Because I try to keep lines open to get a call from you
Yet all I hear are booty calls with busy signals
And yet something has kept me here too long
But can they leave me, if I’m already gone?
Something has kept me here too long
But, through it all, I will shine
How I wish my mere presence can bring joy’s tear to her eye
Sadly though, now, the lines are drawn
Yet I wonder if this feeling is gone
Have the best parts of this…come and gone?
Maybe I’ll never know the truth
Perhaps she was misguided by jealousy’s deprivation
Deteriorating heart’s splendor
While I fell in “like” with her
Perhaps “Better Man 2.0” appeared from Cloud 9’s fallacy
While I fell in “like” with her
She held onto the past
As I, drawn to waterfall’s edge
To let go…and F
© Drake J. Eszes
“We adore those who hurt us. Yet, we hurt those who adore us.” -Anonymous
Do you ever think of me,
though much time has passed and
we have not talked, we have not met?
Do you ever wonder how I am,
what I've done, where I've been?
Do you ever picture in your mind
how the years have changed my face,
lined my brow, slowed my pace?
I often think of you, as you were,
when I'm blue...how we two
would talk the night away then
greet the day with smiles and laughter --
ready to face the roads ahead,
the crooked miles we'd walk alone --
but, after, waiting to relax again,
to smile once more, trusting that
we'd meet some time and talk till day,
with nothing changed that counts at all...
still all smiles, all hugs, all laughter.
Marching down life’s highway, my feet became very sore
I then came upon a sign that read “Heaven’s Grocery Store”
When I got closer the doors swung open wide
Next thing I knew I was standing there inside
I saw a flock of angels positioned everywhere
They handed me a basket and said, “Child shop with care.”
Everything a human required was in that grocery store
With many commodities to carry, you could always come back for more
First I acquired some Patience; Love was in that same row
Further down was Understanding, you require that everywhere you go
I grabbed a box of Wisdom and Faith, a bag or two
And obtained Charity of course but more than just a few
And then reached for Courage to help me run this wicked race
My basket was almost full but remembered some loving Grace
I then chose Salvation for it was advertised as free
I tried to collect enough of that for both you and me
Then I started to the counter to pay my grocery bill
For I thought I had everything to do the Master’s will
As I went up the aisle, I saw Prayer and proceeded put that in
For I knew when I stepped outside I was bound to encounter sin
Peace and Joy were plentiful, the last thing on that shelf
Song and Praise were hanging near so I just helped myself
Then I asked an angel, “Now how much do I owe?”
She smiled and said, “Just take them wherever you may go.”
Again I asked, “No really, how much do I owe?”
“My child,” she said, “God paid your bill a long time ago.”
New Year's Eve Ballad
It’s true one year just ended
And that another one began
In places crowds did gather
They drank and offered cheer
There was singing and ‘twas dancing
Celebrating the New Year.
As a child I do remember
This special time of year
When bedtime was extended
And the neighbors were all there
Together at the strike of twelve
Celebrating the New Year.
And as I grew much older
As did the other friends I know
We continued all to gather
As this special time did near
We talked of all the years past
Celebrating the New Year.
So many friends are gone now
So many that I knew
But always I remember
The times that we did bear
I think of them now as I am
Celebrating the New Year.
Last year we met such challenges
Not all glory, not all fun
But stood each with the other
As we chased away the fear
We faced just ‘one day at a time’ and now are
Celebrating the New Year.
Cheers I say to others
As I pop the cork and drink
Thinking now all days are special
Though life sometimes does seem unfair
Still I drink to health and happiness
Celebrating the New Year.
The reflection says
you've outgrown us
I somehow feel sad –
That which we once had
has become redundant
The other side of the coin
says I should be happy
‘Cause you've found that inner power,
the ability to go out on your own
and yet letting go
is like losing
a part of me
that object that I’ve grown
accustomed too –
So I’ll be a bit teary
even feel a bit used
but I’ll always be grateful
no one knew the role you played
sometimes not knowing
is a treasured commodity
. "Listen first,.....to the voice in your head"
Mmmmm, …if we can catch the waitress’s eye, we should order more iced tea…
Can hardly believe it… Joan is still complaining about her in-laws….
Peg interrupts, excusing herself to go to the ladies room
What was that about Barb’s husband burning breakfast?
It must have been funny.., the way everyone is laughing…
My eyes wander to the window….
I see some geese in the sky
Heading north...oh my,…summer has gone so quickly…
I must get the family together and go out to the lake one more time
We'll take a picnic, and let the children feed the geese...
I'll take a loaf of bread just for that,.......
But we'll have to watch the children..
Last time one goose chased Suzanna, and she fell down, ....
…made her cry,…poor thing
It is so beautiful on the east shore….hopefully the water isn’t too cold
Maybe the children can still enjoy a swim…yes…we must do that soon….
Oops, she’s back from the Ladies......
I'd better scoot over, to make more room,.....
Hmm..looks like she's done something different with her hair...
Joan is still chattering about her weekend with the in-laws.....
How I long to be back at the lake again….on the beach in the sun….
Oh there…outside the window…a whirlwind has gathered up a few leaves
Already rust and brown…edges curled with the touch of autumn
Yes, ….summer has gone so quickly…
.... .... .... .... .... ....
For the Contest: Summer's End
In the refrigerated coldness of a courtroom sitting with my truest friend near me, boxed in by bureaucracy who cared not for the long, lingering years of marital decline. The unyielding forms of squares and rectangles, benched, tabled and chaired the end of a lifetime of intercourse. Only one friend had come to my Golgotha, my place of skulls.
a downcast woman
sat before a solemn judge--
the gravel fell
Sedated with mother’s little helpers, we sat, she and I attempting, through chemistry and kindness, to bar the pain of memory, no sour wine laced with myrrh for me. The Judge seeing no sense in the dissolution of a union three decades in the baking, washed his hands of us, my husband and I, like Pilate. As the crown of thorns had encircled the pate of HE, so had the bands of marriage encased us, frozen, dead, in the honey colored amber .. of we.
One day after years of searching
for that missing link
he came along, without warning
he meddled with the barricades
The things I used to protect myself,
fragile me, all exposed
the steps we took healed us both...
Not realizing that every day
our dependence on others
for validation were being cut away
not knowing we were on a journey
of discovery of who we are
without faceless crowds
dictating our behavior...
I've learned to love myself
I've learned to love others again
without the fear of losing them,
I've learned to be happy
without being afraid
that something sinister might happen
we've grown together
and we have grown apart
but we are always in each other’s hearts
Even though we're miles apart
our paths have been cemented...
Connections remain even distance can't separate...
It's a friendship
you don't ask questions about
it’s a friendship you nurture.
Not because you are forced to,
But because it’s the one thing
That has kept us centered
and made me embrace
who I really am…
I will always be thankful for you…
Contest Name : “The Right Time”
By : Wilma N. Neels
Dedicated to B
Contest: The Right Time
There was a time in America, when the Bible
was taught in the schools.
The ten commandments were displayed, as “God’s set of rules.”
There was a time in America, where the
cross could be displayed.
Even in public places, people came together and prayed.
There was a time in America,
there was no “church and state” separation.
As people all across this country asked God to help this nation.
There was a time in America, where
people knew right from wrong.
You could see it in the way they lived, and could here it in their song.
There was a time in America where one
was proud to be a Christian.
One could take stand for holiness,
without coming under “suspicion.”
There was a time in America, when
mom and dad were together…
Now, any kind of a commitment to marriage seems lost forever
There was a time in America, where many were proud of “tradition.”
There seems to be a lack of any kind of “spiritual nutrition.”
There was a time in America, where so many could proudly say;
“I’m going to read the bible and go to church on Sunday.”
This is the time for America, to wake
up and try to understand.
We need to seek God right now! All over this land!
This is the time for America, to listen and begin to hear…
The coming of our Lord is drawing ever so near!
NOW is the time to seek the Lord, while he may be found!
The word of God needs to be read in every city and town!
Won’t you too seek God and listen to his voice today?
Simply give him your heart and life… This could be YOUR day!
By Jim Pemberton
Leave the broken in the past,
Renew the beauty with sun-light;
Nothing's ever meant to last
So won't you make this moment bright?
Dwelling on who causes pain,
And feeling guilty now and then
Will only pro-long pouring rain,
And damage who you are again.
Whether it be self acceptance,
Pessimistic points of view,
Even social-tied reluctance
Or seeing beauty through and through,
See yourself for who you are,
And love yourself for only that
Before contentment strays too far
And you can never bring it back.
Lord, I Praise And Worship Your Name!
Lord, I praise, worship and honor your name!
Into my heart… I invite you to rule and reign!
Lord, I give you my love and attention!
You have set me in a new direction!
Lord, it is you that brings a daily reminder…
Your grace and mercy is so tender and kinder!
Lord, I humbly raise my hands in adoration…
And lift you up in worship and exaltation!
Lord, Jesus… You are the one I need this day!
I appreciate you much more than words can say!
Lord Jesus… Thanks for all you’ve done already.
When your trumpet sounds… I want to be ready!
Dear Jesus, take my life and my way of living!
All that I have… To you I am giving!
You are and will always be the one for me!
How I long to be with you for eternity!
By Jim Pemberton
Exquisite the ravel of his comforting quilt
a pondering notion of wisdom is felt
I take a sip of his lovely red wine,
Dr. Rams words are better than gold..........simply divine
susurrus hymns of love at times
or perhaps lissome words in flowing lines
silently I sit as his words come to life,
Dr. Rams words are better than gold...........simply divine
o' the words that linger, perhaps burn inside
his heritage, his love, his grand design
I fall in dream into his domain of time,
Dr. Rams words are better than gold..........simply divine
a song of one soul
a dance for all, profound
a story unraveling with pages alive
Dr. Rams words are better than gold.......... simply divine
Ain't a word, you said.
but it takes a daring gust
for things start to be.
envision harmony and mental clarity
focus on a journey of possibility
Meditate on transformation and
awareness of inner state
peace and healing
instruct your mind
to redirect the lost and struggling inner voice
Where you can’t see the wood for the trees
under your nose is the path of freedom
Put aside perceived struggles
revitalize, relax, respond
to body, mind, heart and spirit
Intuition, introspection and spiritual renewal
bring about personal healing and
Stillness of mind – concentration
Thoughts of the subconcious and subliminal
beyond all negativity
away from all interuption
To allow time for self communication and
expression of inner self
Senses – awareness of scent, sight, sound, taste and touch
Healing hands of the medical profession or alternative therapy
ambiance, temperature, oils, music, sounds and
sights of nature or universe
realisation comes in various form and shape
causing us to feel life in fullest expression
Connecting – whispers of wind
radiating everpresent warmth of sun
a blanket of love and light comforts consoles over and through the cosmos
rippling infinately through infinity outwards, onwards
connecting right back into where we are at right now
unmoved unchanged and as we were
Wise – responsible courageous allowed to let go of need to be judgemental or
let go of controlling enable trust wisdom and humility
intelligence of knowing others
wisdom of knowing self
strength in mastering others
power to master oneself
Energy -breath, force, spirit, soul, God, universe –
whatever – doesn’t matter how you refer to it on personal level
energy, balance, light, sound, vibration, peace
centered self – stillness – silent – eternal –
to have enough is a richness in itself
accept appreciate and acknowledge oneself
Am I man or ghost?
Am I mortal or apparition?
Questions or choices
or entwined reality?
For a state of confusion
sleeps within my fiber, and
slowly rips asunder, the final
sliver of my contemporary humanity,
Sunrises and sunsets go unseen,
as I fully embrace my departure
from time, human contact, and connection,
with a creative conviction and devotion
to my only passion as an excuse, a deceitful
reason to shelter myself from the tender
moments that keep emotions empowered
and empathy evolved,
Yet truth is untied by introspection,
and as I analyze, I accept reality,
Seclusion has become to me, the
fruit that protects the emotional
body but imprisons the loving mind,
and by this bittersweet conundrum,
I am bound and devoted to this ambivalence,
by the mere comfort and promise of
And by such a promise, I have
personified my fear of emotional
agony, yet tamed its risk with the
fierce whip of isolation, thus the shame
and allure become as one, And as I
lose who I was, and tolerate who I am,
my disconnection from humanity
hurts those who care, yet keeps me
safe, with ink as my final outlet,
Still, as I sacrifice need for need,
I am not the one who still suffers,
Those with hearts that beat for me,
have become victims of my seclusion,
and I ache for them, but less and less
with each breath, For my isolation
continues to force its fee, and I notice
only after it is taken, and as I see their pain,
Only my thoughts are heard, my wishes
important, and my contentment decreed,
And despite visions of tears and sorrow
that were once my salvation, Now, I
only look away, and remain a willing
prisoner in the sweet self shelter, of
the nothingness I show, and will one day
feel, without rue...
When autumn comes to drop it's leaves.
Unreconciled, the branches greive.
To enter winter's long goodbye.
Awaiting spring, again to sigh.
Amidst the heat of summer's sun.
The planted seed will soon be done.
Only the rain of heavens love.
Can help the plant rise up above.
The seasons we all have to live.
Are waisted if we don't forgive.
A heart that's full of pain and sorrow.
Requires hope to meet tomorrow.
When someone needs a helping hand.
It's nice when they can join the band.
To know that they can sing along.
To harmonize in life's long song.
Here in this room again
the fan on low…
and I’m not to be trusted
can’t be left alone here
with shot gun temples
and a soul full of fear
no worse place than now
I can’t yell it more clearly
I beg for your attention
but I can’t stand you near me
in the blood of my veins
I’d cut off my hands
to send toxins to drain
yet I’m too gutsy for action
say that in public
imagine the reaction
I sit in whirl pools
but I’ve always hated heat
and claim to take a stand
but I’m lazy at my seat
and I’m always on time
as I miss the bus again
I lie in your face
with a devilish grin
and swear I didn’t mean it
I talk about my conscience
still I’ve never seen it
in a world of swirling confusions
I’m stuck on the spin cycle
my game’s not over
I need a fresh start
I’m begging for new blood
cus’ I’ve got a good heart
‘ Raul Moreno, Poet- Sen•sei … ’ 56th Senryu
Like Marco Polo
Haiku Master, Moreno
Explores Nature’s Show
From Magnanimous Me (he! he!) (LOL)
Love Your Poetry,
Your Poet-Pal, MoonBee
Look at me
And I’ll return your gaze
But know not what you see
Talk to me
And I will answer
But know not what you think
Listen to me
And I’ll tell you of me
But know not what you hear
But touch me
And I will know you
And understand that you
Writing is my challenge each day
But it's not the words or what to say.
It is the connection with other writers here
Because I feel I'm not worthy or equal I fear.
The talent expressed by so many others
Often makes me want to hide under the covers.
The gems that are written and ones that I read
Are so inspired, personal, and give me a need.
That's why I come here every time
To see what others have put in their rhyme.
Carolyn always has a message for me to ponder
And others write things that make me wonder.
I often race to the "New Poems" just to see
If by some chance there's one by which P.D has destroyed me.
And Carol, Bob, Nick, Emily, Wilma, and "the Sweetheart"
Write things that sometimes I just can't pull apart.
The Doc has written so many things
I am amazed sometimes at the thoughts he brings.
Others are here who write so well
Their words do me so oft compel.
For like unto them I want to be
Writing words that have meaning for others to see.
Will they be worthy I say when I'm done
Or will they be read by others, as I've intentioned.
You know I feel so many emotions just now
Because of all these writers, I just don't know how.
For they are a driving force for me
And part of my challenge each day is to make them see.
That because of them I have to write
Sometimes into the wee hours of the night.
To pick a favorite writer is...well a difficult choice
So I pick them all, because they shout with one voice.
"Write, you fool, then write some more"
Words I hear and cannot ignore.
So I choose them all...all here in this group
The ones who have made me hungry for Soup.
There, I've said it...and you know that's not in haste
The Soupers that are here are the best of all to taste.