These flowers will not replace my friend.
Their beauty will soon go the way of life-
Fade and wither and then take flight.
Piled upon this mound of dirt to mark our sorrow,
Offered as a sacrifice to soothe our souls.
Petal nor thorn could save this rose.
Like flowers cut down in height of beauty,
This face that bloomed and wore big smiles,
Is covered here to rest awhile.
Then beyond the markers numbered many,
Placed in rows to make order of death,
I saw something that took my breath.
Flowers...colorful flowers...that filled
The field yet fallow...waiting for the day
When friends and family gather...and pray.
Copyright © Ray Dillard
Across the road from new truck sales
Lay a yard filld with trucks that died
These vehicles' voice offer tales
Once on them a trucker relied
They thought that he would be companion
Their eternal guide protect them
He took one to the Grand Canyon
He was truck's total brain stem
Made the decisions for each day
This truck didn't object just follow
Whichever way trucker would stray
Even if where lay Capistrano Swallow
Then one day the truck's tires went flat
Soon in this graveyard this truck lies
Trucker lost his favorite hat
Old trucker no longer truck guides
Copyright © Sara Kendrick
Imagine lakes of dreams
Blood contained streams
Imagine oceans that behold undiscovered beings
Imagine human life depended off of cheers and games
Man design’s umbrellas
And eventually would play a part in acid rain
Imagine not wanting to smell another rose
Or touch another soul
Because of despair and shame
Imagine in the mist of your demise
You have the passion to rejoice and sing
Imagine driving pass shattered glass
The interior is soaked with blood stains
Your mind can't comprehend the fact
that it's a dead family in the next lane
Imagine dreaming for freedom
As a result by your neck you hang
Imagine for the sake of progress
You whip a man on his back and call him a slave.
Rage, Pain, Fortune, and fame
You don't have to imagine this
Because that's what life brings.
Copyright © Andre Sanders
< Early morning,
Its rainy and dark,
Cloudy and gray,
Emotions flowing not,
So dim and sadden,
Stuck in a zone,
Feeling all alone,
Now dressed in lace,
And black satin,
Emotions flowing all over,
Yet still lost,
Dazed and amazed,
Felt crushed pancake flatten......>
Copyright © Lakisa Battie
Come and visit me in a dream,
And tell me how you are,
Are you floating on a cloud?
Have you found the brightest star?
I know you're with us somewhere,
Even though you can't be seen,
Painting the bluest sky,
Or among the grass so green.
As I'm wandering through the park,
Looking up at the trees,
Daydreaming of the joy you brought,
Will you visit me please?
Just send me a little sign,
White feathers on the breeze,
To let me know you're happy, free
And put my mind at ease.
Or ask a passing stranger,
With twinkling brown eyes,
A cheeky smile, and baldy head,
To nod as he passes by.
Or maybe play a special song,
Loud, on my radio,
That could have been written just for you,
About all the love we've known.
Come visit me in a dream,
And tell me how you are,
I know you're there, a floating cloud,
And one of the brightest stars.
Copyright © Sarah Judd
This is my life, don't you see
Pure jealousy has taken over me
My wings clipped and my neck broken
The demon inside of me has awoken
You left me heart and soul for the last time
Your words spoken as I caused the true crime
My body dies down and the cold breaks me down
Once upon my head, now on the ground a shattered crown
My lungs seize to take in more air
But i tell myself... he doesn't care...
I take my last breath and close my eyes
My heart says goodbye to the mournful cries
They all stand around and look down at me there
Some say I deserved it, some say is was unfair
An untimely death was one I was destined to behold
But this death was certainly... the most utterly cold
Hand placed upon my chest and my body dressed all in black
The memories of my in their hearts begin to lack
Lowered below the ground my body is taken
Never again for the butterfly to awaken
Copyright © Christine Jensen
I do not know?
Instance of combustion
Light, Heat, Flame
A burning mass
As on a hearth
21 February 2013
Copyright © Smail Poems
Farewell, then, AUKN boss,
The next this year makes three.
By the time they find a substitute,
Slovenes will be at sea.
He tried to cover his behind;
AUKN boss of bosses,
As every week, balances grew bleak:
He weighed merits and losses.
With all this he'd no time to eat,
And round and round he flew.
And now he's split in a hissy-fit;
So helmsman, too-de-loo!
Day after day, day after day,
He drifted on the ocean;
Guano-vernment rained on his ship
Their suggestions for promotion.
Cousins, cousins, everywhere,
Corporate boards crosslink;
Cousins, cousins, everywhere,
Let's take you for a drink.
Accountants talking rot: O Christ!
Missions, visions - oh please!
Yea, slimy characters need legs
And slimy policies.
So has he done an hellish thing?
Not hired who? We dunno:
Was it absurd, to have a separate curd
From the whey Slovenia owes?
This wretch won't play, after 60 days;
Pissflaps, he'll have to go!
God help ya, gospod Bencina
From the fiends, that plague us thus! -
It's time to go — shot like cross-bow,
The AUKN boss.
Ah! walk-out day! what evil looks
Had I from Ernst and Young!
Who's at a loss? AUKN's boss
Wouldn't take a bung?
"You'll be" quoth one, "abolished - no
Stigma to double-cross."
He chose to go - why? We don't know:
Harmless AUKN boss.
Re-reading the original gave me a great idea for dinner until I realised all the storks have all flapped off to Africa for the winter. Pity, as I have some ancient marinade from Tuš. Like the subject of the poem, I didn't have the stamina for a Coleridge-length effort.
The National Poet Of Slovenia In A Language People Understand interprets important Slovenian affairs for the non-Slovene speaking world. www.maria.si
Copyright © Julian Bohan
A kestrel dips into an updraft
thinking he knows the world
through silent valleys
around the earth
through the wind
The creature soars ever higher
in great swoops and dives
the horizon curves as it eludes vision
the stars pulse their siren
but thrill denies
their ambient warning
Gust to gust each fades
quicker than the last
whispers carry the weight of wings
and their soulful song breaches sanity
prayers of rightful good
where petty purple banners
crest twinkling hearts
The last thermal ridden
last lyric dies
as flight’s drone fades
upturned wings alone
the sky empty oblivion
as the sun aligns its beady eye
to the looping path of the bird
Two brittle forms
grapple in light
which blots out the senses
what can never be touched
smites the naive bird
an archangel buried
in a crypt
six feet deep.
Copyright © Avery Swarthout
I feel as though time is slipping away,
And more is gone each passing day…
Copyright © Tirzah Conway
Control the love between the two of you,
Or else you 'll be hit by a blow to split off
Your life's heart like an axe.
Stare at each other, tenderly, communicate
With ease, graciously, whisper melodies, sweetly,
But do not let your fingers crisscross so
That you won't be caught up in each others arms...
"ON THE BED".
Leading to each others thighs that wrought
The sweetest taboo.
So control the love if you must stand above ill manners
As you are not yet wedded.
Don't let it flow without measures or brake
For you might be tied up like stock fish to a bamboo stake,
Ready for the fire... ending you in utter remorse.
Control the love! control the love!! control the love!!!
Copyright © Charles Melody Lightning Ink
Love is as love does
Peace begets peace; happy day
Copyright © humble b
I stumble upon a river
the way it flows and feels
I take my shoes off and run threw it
laughing looking up towards the sun
I wake up and it was all just a dream
my sister runs up the stairs
she slams her door
i asked her what was wrong
she looked at me
She says "mom told me you were adopted"
at first i laughed as i thought it was a joke
I run downstairs to see my mom and dad sitting on the couch
"mom?" i say
she replies "its true we adopted you!"
she got up and walked into the kitchen
"after all this time i thought i was yours" i say
My father gets up and walks out the door
My mom lays her hand on her forhead
Just dont worry about it everything will be okay
"No it wont i say"
i felt fake like i wasnt who i was suppose to be
i just sat on my bed thinking about the whole thing
my whole life and who i should have been
I packed my bags that light and i ran away
leaving the less important things behind
i set out on a journey to find my real parents
I had my sister get there info. from my dads office
I took a bus to indiana and looked up there address
As soon as i found it i knocked on the door
A man opened the door
he said "who are you?"
i say "apparently i am your son?!"
"you put me up for adoption?" i repeat
He yells "ANNA!?, Some kid is here for you!"
i repeat the story to her as she denied it
She looked bruised and beaten up
I wanted to help her but the man hut the door on my face
I had no where to go now
So i started on a journey back home
But i never made it there
I found that old river i use to go too
i stayed there for a few weeks until
i remembered the way back.
I found myself that day
I realized that i was fake but now im not because i know that i am just me not any of them
Copyright © Shayla Dendinger
In her last breath,
Her phantom slid in the air,
Dissipating into nothingness
Just as she was nothingness.
Laying draped in our tears
Hades cuddled her lifeless body
Clawed her by the skin
Dragging her beyond our understanding.
Nothing to claim for our own.
Nibble. Crunch. Chew.
Dead never tasted sweeter.
Sucking the vitality from her,
They push up beyond her decaying flesh.
Brown. Raw. Destroyed.
And into a fragrant spring.
Copyright © Jewel Seuss
That moment we forgot what we did saw.
This no doubt our memory have failed us,
A signal that the time will not be thaw,
That moment we forgot.
When all throbbing has come and nestled, thus
The thing we saw reappears as its raw,
Then nothing can stop that call behind us.
Not lost memories are what we keep as law
The forgotten will haunt back as pulse
Highest shade, most lightening will tour and saw
That moment we forgot.
Note: Form of poetry used in the piece is a 'Roundel' form of poetry.
Copyright © Abdulhafeez Oyewole
Love will conquer all
those who fight it...surrender
to lose is to win
The lilies called me
I sheltered in their flowers
a casket loomed close
Sirens scream at dawn
helicopters in pursuit
birds keep on singing
Copyright © John Wilowski
surrender to nature
white oaks fall
For the Haiku from the Heart Contest
Submitted by Ann Roske
Form : contemporary haiku
We've had a really wet and weird winter and have 4 white oaks that have fallen over on the back of our property. It is sad to see them go down, but Mother Earth will reclaim and re-purpose them. This is my small tribute to that wonderful and mysterious process - circle of life.
Copyright © Ann Roske
down on mourner’s faces
brings tearsdrops under dark glasses
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders
I sit alone
At her sunlit grave site
Two white butterfles
Copyright © Cassie Smith
I'm Always Around
by BJ Welsh
I'm not near, but I'm really not so far
If you look up I'll be the brightest star
Looking down upon God's project earth
Watching and waiting for a rebirth
When you speak I will always listen
My points will seem to shine and glisten
Giving you guidance when things seem tough
Steady now it may be rough
When we meet again someday
Be it there or far away
I'm here for now and always will
Never escaping, did you feel that chill?
My spirit wind brushed by your side
Or the soft, gentle wave pushed by the sea tide
When we meet again someday
Be it there or far away
You've given me hope and reason to breath
It's not yet time for me to leave
I'm that fluttering seagull upon the sands
Maybe I'm the reason for you to dance
When we meet again someday
Be it near or far away
Copyright © brian welsh
Its your Halloween rave, having your mascaraed
With all your best friends from back in the day
Liz Lauren and Blake and while they're dressed like skanks
I'm on the front line of battle
Howlin like jackle with A real nasty cackle
puttin a razor blade in the sack of Blake's apples
crack in Lauren's snapple
Staddle Liz like mclovin
But I am more like faghole As I babble at her ass
Axe her fast and mash her up like cattle
Sneak back and tackle your dad and put him in shackles
Shove sour patch kids Down your trap and gaggle
Its abominable, so unbelievable
But its inevitable, the end is kissable
I have rattled these kids psyches
squirming like a centipede, cutting them like celery
hear their squeamish screams echo in the streets
as the creepy bells of the chapel ring
I remain a mystery
You'll need nancy drew, and at least 3 of the hardee boys to find what I'm up to
Theres this gloom that looms down in your basement room
Consuming shrooms, enhaling fumes to escape your doom
Witches zoomin by on their brooms makin sonic booms
Quick call scooby doo, but I killed him too
You heard a loud pound cause I cut the fuse so you
Run away to a motel room, assuming your safe
And As you look the other way,
I got my fangs in your veins and stranglin your neck
Too bad you didn't text your friends to tell them who is next
Hmm let me think for a sec. As Hex your boy rex
with an incessant twitch, till he is dead in a ditch
Hang him from bunny man bridge
Yo dude turn the lights on
But there's no flip to switch , I have flipped the script
Its bewitched with no miss to kiss
Exorcist with no priest to dismiss the spirit
So the town clock strikes half past 3
There's one last gas before i must sleep
Or i will crash fast if the light touches me
Put on the mask jack, just like the sixth scream
I need to grasp havoc, till i hear shrills and shrieks
Please back rabbit, these chills aint for teens
As I stick a cherry bomb in your moms exhaust pipe
Run up on you with nine a knife, and the head of your wife
Its useless I'm the nuisance that's abusive yet conducive
To your fear that I am near So close I could whisper in your ear
Smell the shampoo in your hair Wipe the floor with your tears
And as you look up in the mirror
I'm there ready to smear your blood all over the chair
as I stab you with my spear I crush a coors beer then
Leave you re crops there dead, red spread on the floor
But I hear a knock on the door
Are you okay honey? "Yes mommy, just got a cold sore"
Copyright © Mike Conway
dragging feeble feet
a silent walk to death's grasp
beaten under house
the last sigh escapes her lungs
whiskers shrivel as years pass
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal
One frown is lost
At what cost now
Jack Frost has died
Copyright © cecil hickman
Smooth, quiet tones
Long nights spent reasoning
In total understanding
and twin fates
Now it’s so quiet
Complete and utter silence....
Oh my God,
What happened to the good old days
When we both made sense?!
Lost in blurry dreams of childhood
Colorful, wonderful, windy days
Subconscious cradled memories
of the times when we
were eachother’s only friends
I think I can understand
why you won’t face me
But your sudden silence
is so confusing
Did you ever know me well enough
to know my affection for ultimate honesty?
If you wanted me to go away
why didn’t you just say something?
Only this emptiness is left
For what never again can be
No parting words
You went and had the funeral
for our friendship
but did not invite me
From the start
I thought these ways would always be
But in the end,
All I wanted, my friend
was to say
I can’t trust anyone
All alone again
shame on me
Copyright © SLS It Is Rife With Ambiguity
with no remorse he touched my shoulder
as i collapse within seconds ..i tumble down
a goal set..after i reached the point of no return
even now when my core crumbles into a thousand pieces
nothing more for me to do .. see how i loose weight
and to be set on fire ...with the impact left behind in history ..
i now return
meteorite entering the atmosphere at the speed my heart goes everytime i see you again
Copyright © Marcus Crane
A dead crow lies in the open street.
Other crows gather around it and in surrounding trees.
There's no cawing, no sounds at all, as each crow individually
visits the dead crow, then returns back to observe from the trees.
The crows surrounding their dead companion in its immediate vicinity
and all the other crows gathered in the surrounding trees
all observe one last time their current departed deceased,
and all of this is done dead silently,
then after a few more moments of silence suddenly
they all in unison silently fly off and leave.
I've witnessed "crow funerals" first hand many times personally,
and every single experience I've had can only be described as eerie.
Copyright © SillyBilly theKidster
As the wild bear ate the wild berry
She noticed a wild beauty of her own-rain.
She lived in Michigan
Blue rain kissed the green trees
But only one tree made her heart sing
Did the rain feel sorry for itself
Was the question ringing from dusk to dawn it did
And no one heard it but her.
A storm was coming in the distance
A hurricane of peace forced her to dream big dreams
A dream from the younger version of herself
The tenacious one
who would chow down on freshly carved crayons
Thinking thoughts of a sunny moon
Or who hear her taste buds
Singing among tall tall trees, blue blue rains.
She too has grown fond of wild things
As the night of regret fades
The bear, the berry, the rain, the wild
All beautifully crafted
Were these new sculptors of art
Proper artists without knives
So she sang of ol’ Michigan’s nature to gray skies.
This rainstorm was a storm of all storms
For she cried, she wept, and then she fainted
For she was the lonely wild berry
Desperate for more than rain
But oh t’was Michigan’s nature who lived in her
Pain was a mirror whose tears resembled her,
for she was rain.
And all wild, sinful things were washed away
But what about the many sins of my dearest brother?
Was he not forgiven by his foolish wife
It was in his latter days,
That she finally had crept up close enough
To taste the voice of my brother’s sight
He too was a wild berry,
So we placed a wild red rose on his warm stone.
Why was my brother’s wife at this funeral?
She was not of him nor the rest of my family
My brother was blind enough to still seek
After Michigan’s beauty
Its nature he hungered for more and more
Wanting his thirst to be quenched
By that tangy orange sun, the blue rains,
The wild berries, the tall green trees.
But it rained the morning of brother’s funeral
A funeral that hadn’t happened yet
For Michigan rain was but a dream with in dream
Screaming chaos ever so silently, and so gently
That morning I reckoned the only
Stranger at my brother’s funeral was his wife
Yes, for we knew him
Even more so after his death
And that moment, Michigan’s nature, too, embraced us.
Copyright © Chante Reeves
This enigmatic lane-
I’ve walked long.
And now I see
Only barren lands,
A mere setting sun,
And a vague horizon.
I turn to look back
Along this enigmatic lane.
And then I see
Those umpteen vicissitudes,
Those sudden meanders,
Those familiar turns,
Those abrupt detours.
Down this enigmatic lane,
There have been
Many a rich meadows,
Many a bleak wastelands,
Millions of pompous marches,
Millions of disconcerting dirges,
Several comforts of love,
Several cruelties of reclusion.
Along this enigmatic lane
I may no longer tread, for-
As I now halt, I ponder-
Perpetuation has always been
The ruse of fleeting phases,
And what worth has it been
To walk this enigmatic lane.
Copyright © Suyash Saxena
The sea roars as it breathes
in and out, to rise, in the tides,
along the shores of all the seas
as one, moving where the moon guides.
Waters lapping the isles tiny beach,
gently touching her from beneath,
seeking the mountain out of reach,
among rocks like jagged teeth.
On the water little rafts float,
above the sacred, ancient beds.
Down, down they go with plunging stroke,
past the coral of blues and reds.
On the floor a searchers leg is hung.
Working they fail to set him free.
That night, a funeral song is sung
for the one who now breathes with the sea.
Copyright © Christopher Bunton
It's already hard enough to say anything accurately
without further obfuscating and camouflaging the soul.
The faces in the funeral pews are impassive, impatient
and the dead woman cares not what's said, isn't even present.
The poet gets innumerable do-overs, it's one of man's wonders,
revises his vision of his mother and plays her piano, posthumously.
Why not say it simply? Hers was a comity
and a tragedy, both. As are ours. And perform the history that surrounds
Are caskets boats? The ship of death rides Charon's waves
or perhaps on that solitary day you happily kayak to the huckleberries.
Is the deeper sadness incomplete achievement or never to have tried?
Any attempt to decide this question for others is to badly behave.
The pablum of Christianity, esp. the Catholics, re the after life
must be rejected. It's necessary. To be replaced by community,
perfection of the human project, nature's intelligent partner.
Dusty, sadly habitable houses along the funeral route, shapeless
people crossing themselves when ambulances or hearses pass.
I wanted to describe the sweetness of her life, how she was part
of the problem and part of the solution. How love and evolution
are passed like loaves from person to person down the generations.
Find the humor in the cholera. When my father died
he waved like a surfer riding a wave or a clown riding
an elephant out the circus tent. Mom follows the same law.
The many ways a spear can pierce a warrior's jawbone or armor.
Copyright © Robert Ronnow