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On Writing And Words Adventure Poems | On Writing And Words Poems About Adventure

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Details | I do not know? | |


are like my thoughts
falling down into my mind
sending goose bumps down
my spine

Their cool aftermath
cleanses me of my thoughts
of fear and uncertainty 
about what tomorrows
pain may bring

They make me feel,
wet with creativity
drenched in my optimistic
illumination. glistening
raindrops, my thoughts
leave paths of pleasurable
distress, and hope of success
which road, less traveled
may be the best

Forget an umbrella
when these raindrops
arrive, I walk outside
arms open wide

Ready to Receive
the mind storm may bring
because raindrops are
as my thoughts, falling
down into my mind
sending shivers down
my spine

My brain, yearns
for the rain, to wash away
the pain, tomorrows worry
does bring
One special drop
could speed up life's clock
to the time
I can handle my own
and not dwell inside my controllers

For raindrops are,
like my thoughts
falling down into my mind
sending goose bumps
down my spine

Details | Light Poetry | |

A Merry Band Of Adventurers Part 1 of 2

There Are A Thousand Treasures Of Kings
Worth More, Than All The Wealth, There Could Be !
Some Say, It’s In A Kingdom Of Dreams
Others Say, It’s As Real As You & Me

The Legend Says, There’s A Kingdom Of Love
In A Kingdom, Far Away & Above
Kings-Treasures, To Be Claimed By The Best
Those Worthy Of Courage, To Quest

& So, This Is Where I’ll Start, My Friend,
Tho’, This Isn’t Where The Real Tale Begins
You See, There Was A Merry Band Of Adventurers
Who Went On A Quest, As Treasure-Gatherers

There Was Moses, The Freedom-Circle-Rider
Stayed His Course, Like An Eagle-Glider
There Was Goff, The Monk Of Sky and Trees
His Visions Of Life, Were As Open As Doors With Keys

There Was Kendricks, The Keeper Of ‘Interesting’ Tracks
& Marty, Of The Hale & Hearty & Power-Pen Pack
There Was Adell of Deep Wells  … & Dio, The Devoted
& Dame Brown Of Mountain-Ground, So Sweetly-Noted

There Was An Irish Lass, O’Leary Of Laughter
& The Golden Daughter Of Grace & Audrey Of Gifted-Banter
& Devonshire, The Dove &  Highlander Of Heather-Cove
Of First To Join Search:  For Soup & Treasure-Trove

Of Course, We Have A Prince Of Passion Land
& Ismael, A  Dream-Merchant From His Own Island
The Prince, Paints Of Pleasures; The Islander Speaks of Treasures
Both Know Of Biggest Royal Cache That We Could Ever Measure !

There Came Tim, The Archer Of The Wit-Forest
& A Determined Mother with Son, The Lady Doris
Maid Adams, Who Teaches How To Keep Cold Away
& The Lightning-Voice Of Linda Marie, Keeps Wolves At-Bay

There Is Sir Lamoureu of Sir Lancelot's Order
He Wields Words In Articulate Axes & Armor
And To Those Who Dare Say Chivalry Is Dead ...
Is Because -The Sonnets of Sir Lamoureu, They Have Not Read
& The Legendary Language That  Sir Lamoureu Pledge

Then There's Lady Linda, A Chatelaine & A Poet Destroyer
But  She Only Versus The Verses of The Vanity Voyeurers
Her Skill With Quill Accurately Quite Accords
As Proof of Pens Being Mightier Than Swords

We Have A Pretty Elf Known As Anne Lise Andresen
Her Piquant Topics of Poetry Makes Her Our Taliesin
And We Have Our Very Own Kind Maid Merryman
She Transports Adventures Better Than A Ferryman

Part 1  of  2

Details | Rhyme | |

Reading/Knowledge is Power

Page after page
My nose in a book
I read intently
As the words
Form pictures 
In my mind
What power.
With one look.

Imagination runs wild,
There is nothing 
Like the thrill,
The ride,
 thoughts race
Like a roller coaster
Going through 
its paces
Giving you chills.

It’s a rainbow
Of translations,
If you will.
Get on it,
And feel the inclination
To soar 
You’ve had enough.
But is it ever?

You see, 
Once you start
It’s too tough
To get off 
That ride 
That makes 
You smart 
To begin with.
You are filled
With exhilaration
And with pride.

Reading takes you 
to the top,
To the power 
of knowledge!
Knowledge is power,
A roller coaster 
That never stops.

Details | Verse | |

Enigma's Calling

Extraordinary, I am 
Craving for unusual thoughts
Endless exploration without boundary
Understanding  the gift I shouldn't fought
Invisible drawings in my mind
Playing with the words in my head
My passion
The food of my soul
I feel so lucky
The random thoughts
A lifetime companion
A self esteem builder
A goal planner
Be my forever life saver
I write more
I talk less
I want to please
I chose to bore
What tickles me the most
Is to know what I'm for
Thinking is my love
When  my mind goes empty
That's when I hate
My day dreaming lust
Organizing things in my mind
Playing roles of simulation
Where images of art is my vision
And words of attitude is my heart

Details | Senryu | |

' Raul Moreno, Poet - Sensei ... ' 56th Senryu

‘ 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

Details | Couplet | |

Written to Death

  In God's own ink
with bloody hands,
he writes his life away.
   yet he's free
to have his final say.
        Dark and dank,
his tiny cell
         becomes a living tome,
to tell a tale of villainy,
      of madness 
    and of home.

 His maiden fair
     returned his love
with evil and deceit.
    She led him here into a trap
his enemy to meet.

    At length 
she saved him 
     from an end
a death both quick and sure.
She left him in this dungeon dark
forever to endure
the memory 
     of her false heart
and one who stole it all.

He tells it all right from the start
      it flows upon the wall,
and when his bright red ink runs dry
    the angels come to read.
He falls upon the stones to die
    with no words left to bleed.

Details | Free verse | |

Night Poem

It waits...
A prickle about to lodge
In the heart of a Mighty Light

Above the low-dipped setting sun
The Knightly Night prepares to come

To lift me like a rising fog
Up to greet the countless stars -
That twinkle at a Sun's descent.

The horizon painted with lullaby
Of colours and their somber tune
Day's bed is laid behind blue mountains
And quietly it goes to sleep.

Inside the womb of a Sleeping Day
Begins a fierce protest 
of dreaming thoughts
Now stirred awake.

Then out of the thick and cluster
And whatever dangers of flight await
Newborn wings of thought emerge
And rise and rise and rise
Captured by the winds of Night -

To wander heights
To kiss the skies
To dance to the gentle humming
Of spirit drums -
Wings beating
A duet with the breeze.

So when day comes breaking through
Dawn is greeted by what was writ
At the festival of it's eve.

With merriment's ink: 
A Kiss; 
A dance; 
A song etched deep: 
Art carved out of sky.

Title: Night Poem

Details | Narrative | |


Before spring came, in late February
to the blooming and jolly hills 
I ran, breathing heavily and frantically,
touching the perfumed blossoms 
of a solitary, old cherry tree;
and underneath it I sat writing poetry
that hadn't a perfect rhyme and beat! 
Weren't my skills marred by imperfections?    

Canaries and red-breasted robins
flew down and rested on my outstretched legs;
perusing my lines to spot their names,
and when they did, they flapped their wings in gladness!
I could have imagined their joyful words,.
if only they had acquired the gift of speech,
and deeper in their thoughts I would have reached:
to dispel the myth that they had no feelings...

After my short poem was completed,
I reached for my harmonica to play my favorite classic tune;
and being surprised by the paleness of the fading moon,
I dedicated that happy melody to her not to let her despair:
by waving my hand to make her farewell less sad, while I whispered,
" Silent moon, eternal companion of every poet,
what's beyond the realm of this universe?...
Tell us more of those invisible suns and planets! "

Before spring came to the dormant valley,
the mountains' peaks allowed the sun to melt their snows,
to create gushing torrents to feed its water to the dry and cracked soil,
which needed rain instead of harmful frost;
and I drank the freshest water and washed my sweaty face,
while fighting off the bees' stubborn rivalry!
That spring has come again to dress herself with incredible splendor,
and this discontent and wishful heart desires nothing more than being there!  

My theme is: Happiness In Childhood

Details | ABC | |

Grandma's Garden


Apples.. beetles.. caterpillars..
daisies everywhere.. 
fertile ground.. hollyhocks.. 
Ivy jumbled kegs..
leafy mint.. nematodes..
quiet rest sunsets.. tomatoes under vines.. 
wheelbarrows.. xanadu yearning zeal!

Details | Light Poetry | |

' Archeology And The Poet ... '

Dig Down Deep
Carefully Unearth
Artifacts Will Speak
Words of Worth

With Pick and Shovel
And Papyrus
If Block and Rubble,
Gently Brush

Treasures Buried
Deep In Soul
Heart-Stone Quarry
Hold Hidden Scrolls

To Royal Edicts
Read and Call
On High Walls

In Expeditions
To Exposé
Show Gold Emotions
In Glass Display

From Pyramids
In Sealed Mystery
So The Poet Did …
… Archeology

To Preserve Words
of Antiquity
So That You Heard
and Shared, Discovery …

Details | Light Poetry | |

' A Metaphysical Moment ...'

‘ A  Metaphysical  Moment ’

A Metaphysical Moment
Electrifying To The Touch
Breathless, Thru The Clouds
Can My Heart, Take So Much

… Can My Eyes Endure
All This Vision, I See
Can Voice, Even Speak
Over Roaring of This Sea

… Can Ear Even Listen
When I Am Flying So Free
Soaring, So True With You and
Metaphysical Moment and Me …

A Metaphysical Moment
Will I Ever Understand
This Mystery of Our Universe
The Mystery of Woman and Man …

(And I End This with an Haiku for
The Haiku Master ‘Raul’ Moreno and
Metaphysical Poet Extraordinaire’ (smile))

Metaphysical Moment (The Haiku)

          Understanding A
      Metaphysical Moment …
      … Nature’s Mysteries

Metaphysical (definition) as an adjective:

Metaphysical of early 17th Century Poetry
Relating to the poetic style of John Donne,
George Herbert and other early 17th Century Poets
Who used consciously intellectual language
And elaborate metaphors that compared things

Details | Bio | |

A Note To the Young Girl On The Other Side Of This World

Hello, Farrah....
It's 7Am here, and cold
Just awoke, with,
Oh, Here We Go Again!
Fever, Pain, Confusion,
And Lots of Other Groovy Things
To Keep My Mind Busy...
Many more people know of you
than a few days ago....
Did you ever hear of Rod Mckuen?
Professional poet/ musician/songwritter-
One of the reasons I love poetry...
Not only will you understand him, you should
enjoy him.....Sorry about your work load....
My French is rusty.....I'm pretty good in geometry though;
received 100% on NYS Regents Exam when young-
an unheard of thing, scores in college of 97-99% for the term's work,
and it seemed easy as pi    (joke- pie, etc....oh, why am I explaining it,
sorry, I forgot who I was talking to.......)  Hope you have a happy day.....write an 
indepth poetic bio??   I'd love it, so would many others....
you are known in literary circles here now, I'd venture to guess....
surprising, the power of words, n'est pas?  Je ne sas pa, rien du tout....pardon 
my spelling and's unused since early 1960's (ancient history)  What 
city are you in?  Ever travel???  A favorite destination???  Any questions about
the enigmatic nature of "Americans?"  We're really well meaning, just sometimes
seems we might misinterpret, or misunderstand things obvious to others (and 
vica versa....) Do you get to see movies???  Need books to read??  I got a library 
of 10,000 books, at least, being handicapped gives me too much time on my 
hands, and my health leaves me precious little of a future to expect.   I have lots 
of funny stories.   I hope you are okay....I never met anyone so brilliant in 57 years 
of living.   Youf friend in poetry, tom."

Details | Senryu | |

' Devonshire and Fraser ... ' 44th Senryu

‘ Devonshire and Fraser … ’      44th   Senryu

Some Poems, Highland Fling
Kilt-Clad-Portrait, Scotland’s Theme
The Laird of Sweet-Dreams

Devonshire, The Dove
A Vision Of Light and Love
Highland, Speaks Well Of …

Together They Write
All Combinations Delight
Deep Thinkings, With Might

For:          The Dynamic-Duo of Poetry Soup
      James Fraser and Carolyn Devonshire – ( 2 Scoops)
                  You’re In My Must Read Group …

                              Your Poet-Friend,
                                             The  MoonBee

Details | Free verse | |


A poem including following words/phrases;
Nuclear waste
Baby food
Smiling Moon Face
Dog waste
Malicious love
Miracle of Fatima
Broken alarm clock

Lets see what you guys come up with;  by Feb. One
Bonus points if you add; Peanut Butter and Jelly with Meatballs the daily special


Details | Couplet | |

Guess What Phyllis, I Tagged You

After reading your comment to Sharon so true
I decided oh yes, I must tag Phyllis to

”Tag game” is about people sharing their heart
It would sure be special if you shared your part

It seems sometimes we just run out of time
Remember when a phone call cost a dime

So did a bottle of soda as a matter of fact
Remember the machines when they slid on a track

Well hopefully not because these words are true
Remembering those things means you’ve seen life to

So many changes between those times and now
Now days they have lasers that operate the plow

With me it all changed way faster than most
Years in day is the story of a convict ghost

But that is the past and praise God I am free
Exercising my right to tag Phyllis you see

Every game should have a Mentor Raul is his name
He was tagging us all without knowing of the game

I’m tagging Phyllis and giving honor to Raul
For without a doubt he is a model for us all

You know a while back the "Tag" game was a part
of our site. This was a very special part of our site
and Raul with his unselfishness writing Poem's to 
members on our site reminded me of this and to be
honest I tried hard to ignore the impulse. So in Honor
of "Our Mentor" lets bring that special part of our Soup
Back, spend our time writing of love instead of some knack.

Details | Cowboy | |

The Cowherd

On dark hillside
A lone cowherd
Wrapped in his blanket,
Gazed up at the sky,
Dreamed into the night.
A wisp of crescent moon,
A sky full of stars,
In his thought
He was asking:
Does my small fire shine up to the stars?

Details | Verse | |

Ding Dong The Wicked Witch is Dead

Globally, miners jubilantly jump for joy
Smiles on the faces of every girl and boy
The grins of a newly opened Xmas toy
Thatcher’s dead.

Trade unionists bounce along the street
Music blaring and the tapping of feet
From nurses to Bobbies still on the beat
Thatcher’s dead.

Street parties announced in the nation
Satan who brought economic inflation
Is deceased, now’s the time for elation
Thatcher’s dead.

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
Thatcher’s dead.

Details | Haiku | |

The Internet: Return

A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...

Details | Couplet | |

A Different Verse

A different time, a different place
A different life and different face

Different wants and different needs
Different values and different creeds

Different Pomp and Circumstance
Different songs and different dance

Different likes and different hate
Different foods on different plate

A different boat on a different sea
A different you and a different me

Details | Free verse | |

Child's Dawn

As the darkness yields to the dawn to deliver the heart from any storm Of the blackness of the night so long Where my fears and sorrows do belong The new morn is a sigh of a brilliant song The child awakens with the light Ready to believe in the day’s warming sight To live and love with open arms And have no fear of any harms There is hope and charity in the new day Dreams and innocence are here to stay Sun sweet sun Come on, have some fun Chase the night away so the child can learn to play!

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Self-Portrait of Life

As I draw my eyes I think about what I have seen, what I have witnessed, what I have turned my eyes away from with but a blind stare, and all those special moments I missed that done passed and gone, but above all I think about what I have yet to see when I die.
 As I draw my face and hair I think about I think about how the "Great One Above" has made me what color skin that I am and how he has shaped my attitude into what my life has become and what society and environment I was placed and grew up in around which culture or cultures I have become or unknowingly integrated.
 As I draw my ears I think about what I have heard, what I am still hearing and what I choose not to hear among the many noises surrounded within ones hearing, but above all I think about what death has sounded like not in just one but many different loud but yet still very silent noises around one.
 As I draw my body I think about what my body has endured, what it has failed to do so many times but also what it has finally conquered and still yet to conquer in a world of complete competition with sports so violent and unforgiving for winning does not forgive losers in a world striving to be winners.
 As I draw my hands I think about how they have created so much but also trying not to think about how much they too have destroyed. I think about how I can easily create bad more than the good like an addiction that cannot be stopped among an addicted world full of fiends waiting to get their fix….but above all as I draw these words of life I think about how the heck I am still here today writing about it… I am still here enduring it and how I am still here even to share it…Thank You “Great One Above”…..

Details | Free verse | |


He draws you in -
Compelling mental images
of atmosphere and entryways;
state rooms; glades; soft nudges.
Letting your fear flourish unaware. 

Note: Author Dean Koontz

Details | Alliteration | |

Our Very Own Lies

I can see the truth clearly now, and the truth is we live in a world where almost everything is shaded to a lie. (We act as if we are someone else and just can’t be what we want to be.)
 Truth remains strong that our very own fables cover our very own two eyes. (We only choose to see what we want to see.)
 Only fibs and tall tales are left on the local store corner….for they the only things left on the shelf that we can buy. (Many Profound Truths remain imprisoned while too many lies are out there living free.)
 I look at the ground because I can’t look at the sky; I laugh more with death rather than crying with life. (Shakespeare once said “To be or not to be” but I say F%$k trying “To be” because I’d rather “Just BE”.)
 Living amongst a world of shaded illusions upon the mind eye, upon which we have many wrongs more than our rights, yeah I know we all want peace but yet we still choose to fight. (We long for death but fear it; we want to go away but don’t know what will happen when we leave our loved ones with certain grief stolen away in the night by death like a thief.)
 So why is it so many of us continue to stare at our everyday truths as if we are blind, as if we cannot see our own struggle through our very own lies……..

Details | Ballad | |

Family First

I cant believe Im going to have my own family, something I never had; 
Its time to step up and be a real dad; 
Now I can remember the things that make me happy and forget the things that make me sad;
 Its time that I start doing good than the bad; 
I want for my child to see me as a role model; 
Its time I break my own chains to that alcoholic bottle; 
I want to be that someone who can be trusted to follow; 
I silently cry at night because the truth is hard to swallow; 
I jus hope I can make that change today not tomorrow; 
I got to change before I end up in an?early hearst; 
My art is my gift and alcohol is my curse, I must break my own alcoholic thirst;
 I must relieve my own selfishness tendencies before they burst; 
I got to stop making alcohol my only because its no longer just about me, because my very own family comes first

Details | Ballad | |

Im Gone

Life as a lonely lost poet bred from dark cracks 
Lost soul living plain and simple among the people black and white 
Drug along with alcoholic among us distracts 
Lost values and principles around one many continue to lack 
Everyday simple facts, its like breathing through plastic sacks 
Slowly suffercating until the brain goes wack 
Once death comes my way I must keep it part of my past 
Aint no way God going to bring my little brother back 
I guess its a curse upon all those of us living like outlaw of an outcast 
How the **** will I ever truly outlast until I heal and break out my cast 
God cant you see Im tired of wearing this permanent mask 
I know my poetry has hidden answers if I look and read closer so I shouldnt have to ask
 Staying lost is a choice in the open road with no gas 
So as a lost poet through hardships now and in the future I will outgrow it 
The devil trying to get my soul and behold it 
but I know only this one man controls it 
Its too priceless for even my own greed to have sold it 
So as a lost poet I will climber higher than high if not then right below it 
Found in a world of lies with few truths as but another lost poet

Details | Epic | |

In The City

The city has everything anyone can dream of: public transportation (city buses, trains/subways, and taxi cabs), theaters, parks, hotels, and restaurants; not to mention downtown apartments. All of the cities are the largest metropolitan areas that never sleep. Living in the city is like being a part of the essence of urban living. And when he or she's in the city for a concert or another event, they won't want to leave it behind; they just want to stay there. It looks like I'm not the only one who's a city person; it's everyone else, too. The U.S. has multiple cities, and so does the rest of the world (Beijing, Rome, Paris, Toronto, or wherever). No mater what city are these people from, they're all part of the urban society. To be honest, I've always wanted to reside in the city: New York City, Seattle, Washington, Atlanta, Georgia, Kansas City, Missouri, London, U.K., Los Angeles, California, or Toronto, Ontario, Canada. I see all cities with brand new buildings in the year 2065, and I also see aliens or any other life form interacting with the humans in the futuristic city, as well. If the city's ready for me and I plan on residing in one of them for a long time, that would be great.

Details | Narrative | |

Scarlet Portmanteau

Duke Luke by his bateau
Arrived at his chateau,
Had he travelled through large eau!

His mysterious rendez-vous 
with Henry Thoreau
Yielded him a scarlet portmanteau.

Entering his bureau,
he took off his manteau
and opened the portmanteau:

The Snow Man was inside
And though not well could he sing,
Sang he a song of himself:

Stopping by woods on a snowy evening
He met Annabel Lee on a large shelf,
Frightened he was by the raven
And took the road not taken:

Crossed he the mending wall
And hearing the anecdote of the jar
To noble savage Billy Budd an honest fare he paid

Large and far
Travelled he
From spring to fall

Self-reliance: the idea he hath
The American Scholar guided his path;

He slept a long time
In a clean well-lighted place;

One winter he woke up
In a station of the metro:
He fastened his tender buttons
and found a red wheelbarrow;
'No ideas but in things' -
A lovely image this brings!

To his disappointment and sorrow,
He never saw the snows of Kilimanjaro.

Duke Luke in disbelief
Wiped his eyes
And pinched his ears;

The Snow Man disappeared.

Duke Luke
Took a look 
At his portmanteau
In hopes of seeing something

He found


Details | Blank verse | |

Who I am Today

I got 2 memba who I once was, who I really am, what I really am, and who Im still yet TO BECOME. I got 2 memba where Im from 2 know how I got 2 where Im at 2 know where Im still GOING TO GO/ Despite bein a felon and convict and all the odds against me, I still got all the evens deep within me. Change is like a choice of contradicted concepts of my own convictions. My felonistic, forbidden, fatherless faith is not workin for me no more, actually it never did I just thought it did. I aint got 2 give it up or must give it up, or even have 2 give it up I first got 2 want 2 give it up. But I also must got 2 have 2 want 2 give it up within my own contradicted soul so that I may travel that road less traveled by my own people, not only where Im from but for all those trapped in this American inner racial mixed struggle where race and the color of YOUR SKIN DOES MATTER

Details | Free verse | |

Poetry Contests

Check i out

Details | Crown of Sonnets | |

For My Unborn Seed and Girlfriend

Dam girl when Im locked up you set me free/ 
When Im not myself you set me free/ 
Im behind the lock and you got the key/
 Im blind with hate but you helpmy love see/ 
WhenIm lot and alone you take the lead/
 Without you I could have never planted my seed/ 
I hate to say it but you make me better/ 
You know I love you even without this letter/ 
When Im cold with sadness you my comfort warm sweater/
 I know I can be a bad boyfriend but Im going to be a better father/
 I might have wanted a son, but it really didnt matter because now you having my daughter/
 Im guess Im too stubborn girl with me why you even bother/
 my heart gets heart gets colder but for you it only gets hotter........

Details | Tail-rhyme | |

Wuthering Heights

Star crossed lovers strolled together
over moorland fields of heather...
Tragedy unfolds

Emily Bronte wrote thereof...
She, too, lost chance to find true love...
Death, again, grabs hold

For Black-Eyed Susan's Contest: Tail Rhyme

Details | Imagism | |

The Red Symphony

A self-written poem begun in Christmas Time,
While it tasting the soup and looking for rhyme.
In the kitchen, neighbor with the quiet tomato paste,
The sorcerer's apprentice, a poet pretty well placed
Near Soups (ciorbe) with characteristic sour taste
With luminous face and much grace added the rest:
As he was sipping and tasting from raw and cooked.
His group had a passionate look at what was booked
For the dinner: These might be meat and vegetable soups.

They had to choose till the coming of the helping troops
For the pig`s sacrifice rite, old mixture of joy and grief
Under the hot and long debrief of the pleasant smell-thief 
Tripe soup (ciorba de burta) hard prepared from beef,
And calf foot soup (ciorba de vitel), with green-gold leaf 
Pickled soup (supa de moare) with pork and big rice;
But use the dice to decide between spice and allspice.

From the slaughtered pig the village` families prepare: 
Carnati - sausages  kept in special aromatic smoke 
Of wet fir and oak burned at small fire as enjoyed by folk;
Caltabos - sausages made with liver sprinkled with beers;
Toba and piftie - dishes using pig's feet, head and ears 
Suspended in aspic like a frozen symphony in red
After cups of plum brandy and before going the bed
Tochitura - pan-fried pork to bid it a farewell, twice
Served with mamaliga - palesta , and red wine with ice,
Or boiled wine with pepper and cinnamon against frost; 
So that the pork can swim and the verse were glossed;
Piftie - inferior parts of the bashful pig, mainly the tail, 
Feet and ears, kind of meal like taken from a fairytale
In which all are cooked and served in a form of gelatin
In this naturalist field, all the poets smile like Mr.Bean;
Jumari - small pieces of pig meat are fried and tumbled 
Through various spices if after all, you are a little troubled 
 And may falter some poetical from the famous songs
Like "So, good people drink…" couples of diphthongs
Since Saturday to Thursday and make colorful the gray.

This poem was written in the Night of Tuesday to Friday.
( And later we`d find that the housewife had covered with it  the pickles cucumbers jar.)

Details | I do not know? | |

My Wishes are Simple

My Wishes are Simple

My wishes are simple,
my desires few,

to gaze upon an ocean,
and marvel at a solitary drop of dew.

My wishes are simple,
my dreams not too grand,

to feel the waves teasing my tired feet,
with no footprints left in the cool, wet sand.

My wishes are simple,
my thoughts serenely gentle, calm,

my heart resting beneath a swaying palm,

healing my being, caressed by nature's soothing balm.

Details | Acrostic | |

Lost In Thought

Now who would of thought the thoughts that would truly get the mind lost in fragile thought?
 So much on our known life, 
about unknown death when we laugh at others but at ourselves we really cry, 
in our very own hidden truth lies, 
amongst our own poeple who we defy, 
until we fight, 
for wrongs for personal rights, 
**** the darkness is what make us appreciate the light, 
I dont talk the talk nor do I walk the walk because I walk my talk while I swagger and swerve im my talks through these walks,
 Life can get so messy with death that its time for those of us here to grab the broom so God can mop,
 I live life to the fullest with what little I have because I dont have a lot, 
I live life shitty sometimes like almost everyone else like it or not, 
Im not special Im so unique Im individual with word talent I know I got, 
I know what I dont have so its important more knowledge among me is sought, 
I can be wrong half the time but can still make it 100% right I was self-taught among a young soul that seems to be bought,
 I got a bad limp but dont get me wrong I can still gallup through darkness while I jog lost in the early morning fog waiting to be patiently found in the midnight lounge where I trot,
 Truly lost so easily in profound hard thoughts litterally running from the cops waiting to duck and dodge from open gunshots,
 Bodies and shells drop where caskets are made among a dying crop, 
I can still make a splatter where there was just but a tiny dot, 
I used to have merely nothing now atleast I can truly say I have a safe spot, 
I was found looking for truth in lies lost in thought....

Details | Bio | |

Living for Something and Dying for Nothing

In the beginning I started off as just another nobody from another nowhere trying make it to somewhere as a somebody as everyone else. In the beginning I was BORN TO LIVE TO DIE, but in the process I was BRED TO LEARN TO SURVIVE. I became a CONVICT OF CHRIST through PAINFUL PLEASURES of my many struggles and strife's. I was a SINFUL SAINT but more of a sinner, mainly a loser and never a winner. I was once considered one of the best, now days I'm just trying to be lower than the rest, unseen in plain sight , NOTHING MORE NOTHING LESS. I became lost in time through my many self-taught TRUE LIES of yet another LOST FIND growing up where few DREAMS LIVE , but many more DREAMS DIE. I soon got LOCKED UP but it was very educational because I LIVED IT and LEARNED FROM IT. I was given a choice to LIVE FREE OR DIE INCARCERATED, so I made that choice to be more loved than hated, so I became UNDER LOVE and OVER HATE, I learned to stop wanting and actually appreciate. Its been hard to change so I became a POET OF PAIN. That's when I learned the truth about those who think their dying for something but they might as well be living for nothing, because I learned that real truth comes from LIVING FOR SOMETHING because I ain't DYING FOR NOTHING. So now I am forever a W.O.L.F. once a warrior of lost freedom now trying to stay a warrior of lasting freedom you know what I mean.

Details | Haiku | |

Le Vacance Pretentieuse: Storm Part I

Gathering grey clouds
Whip crack of frothing thunder
Is this Africa?

Details | Couplet | |

The Pleasure Has Been All Mine

<               I have dipped my pen in the sublime, it's my gift to you
                 Now use it wisely and write about some captioned caught views

                 thus that of an snow-capped mountain with an eagle that soars
                 or white sandy beaches where ribbed tides rolls back to it's shores

                 maybe stars and moon dance reflecting off stilled bay's port
                 in ones head you must determine choice of words to now sort

                 from beautiful to just pleasure does not hit it's mark
                 beneath recant memory that caused the ignited spark

                observer of denial you can not destroy ones voice
                within pens stroke there comes a poet with another choice

                seize the day and come bow to the chosen word of the day
                dont let an overpowering object just get away

Written By Katherine Stella  6/26/11

Entry For A Rambling Poet's

Writing In The Sublime

Details | Verse | |

Le Vacance Pretentieuse: Going Home

What is it to see the soil of home again?
A welcome, snow-struck and a return
To cold; sharp white contrasts sunburn.
We converse in broken tongues to men

We know, hooked on holiday language
Comprised of wandering hand signs.
Collect the car and pay parking fines,
Drive through towns and over a bridge

Until we reach the Western gateway.
Oh when will we arrive at our house?
No camels there, only field mouse
Which are eaten by our cat anyway.

The plane flies for an age, slyly yawning
Through the stretching, pealing sky,
A knife through air; what it is to fly.
Our travels over; a new day is dawning.

Details | Couplet | |

Writer's Block

You know what I hate about writer’s block,
How my creativity is hidden behind a lock;

Time ticks away as I stare at my screen,
My heart beating faster from the strain of caffeine;

The cursor flashing lulls me to doze,
Til a fly lands smack on the tip of my nose;

I swing at the fly and glance at the clock,
How did 10 AM turn into 5 O’clock;

I stand and I stretch and then walk away,
And say goodbye to another wasted day;

Maybe tomorrow will inspire my brain,
Or I could be slowly going insane…

Details | Didactic | |

Realm of Reality

Introduction: Life is a mystery with many ups and downs throughout the journey. The
journey filled with thoughts of tranquility and turmoil. But the perfect sensation is the
time when you get to feel closer to your Almighty, the one who understands you the best,
your closest friend, your hope and light, your solution to every problem, The mystery you
came to life to solve and to believe in.
Even in the happiest and the saddest moments, He is always there when you need Him.

Right now I am, thinking what to write
Holding my pen, it’s almost midnight,
I’m truly out of words, to express my whole life,
It’s so absurd, cut all pain through a knife
And I wish I could feel, Your presence in my soul
I know that You know, what I am going through
And I’m not sure I believe, unless I really feel
But I know when You’re not there, so I pray to feel You near

Now I can see, what this life is about
Now I do know, I’m too lost without,
Diamond in the rough, that’s what I was
But now I’m reborn by the shower of Your bliss
I’d die to satisfy, I’d do everything I can,
No matter how tough, after all I’m a man
I won’t fall apart, You’re always in my heart
I’d swim oceans and more, only to be Your friend

This undying grace of Your creation,
Time and space, more than perfection
You’ve opened my eyes and showed me the truth
You’ve blessed peace to my soul; I know what’s my role
I see two key coins, one black and one white
And all I have to join, the one with your light
Life is as it is, we make it our own
Hard or easy, full or alone

Everything grows, as they all involve
With the rose you put down, to show us what’s love
I wake up early, to see Your beauty,
Throughout the morning sun, I feel complete and done,
I drive all the way and see my problems solved,
By Your love from above, I stand still so firm
Everything I do, everywhere I go,
Every moment I breathe, I remind myself of You…my Almighty.

Details | Haiku | |

Le Vacance Pretentieuse: Storm Part VI

Water licks your feet
Far cry from the beating sun
Desert sand to sea

Details | Senryu | |

' King David's 23rd Psalm ... ' (Classical - Tribute) 61st Senryu

‘ King David’s 23rd Psalm … ’ (Classical-Tribute)  61st  Senryu

The Brave Should Know Song:
King David’s ‘ 23rd Psalms ’
Makes Warriors Stay Strong

Details | Couplet | |

Life is an Aventurous Squirrel Run

I have my Hubby’s steadfast belief in me.
He loves how my poems are light and airy.
He’ll give me an idea once in a while…
Then he escapes to come back, later to read my new child.

He calls these run-throughs a squirrel run.
For they can take off in directions, yes, any one.
Crazy thoughts become crazier still…
And story time leads to god knows, where they will.

My thinking is kind of like chasing around a tree.
You never know where the end will be.
But somewhere I eventually become truly still.
And that is where my Hubby adds into the trill.

Then the squirrel run begins again…
Light and fluffy and full to the brim.
Each day a new adventure... waits around the bend.
Live it. Love it. Write it... You'll be happier in the end.

Contest: Emotion: Squirrelly and fun   CSEastman

Details | Free verse | |

Poetry: For The Words, Are All Around Me

The secret syllables
and words
surround me
in a morning fog
I absorb them through
the places I wonder
ideas I ponder
they flow into my blood
as they spill from my rose
like shameless water
they sweep into me
like the wind behind my bare knees
they whisper into my ears
within the summers breeze
they creep u on me
like a bottle feeling
emerged from being
cloaked deep within
the search for a pen
and paper, feverishly
into the depths of my soul
the intensity
is hard to control
like a wave, the words
tumble over me
grainy sands distort
my messages vision
as I struggle to write
how I remembered the piece
would begin
it feels like a rush
of electric
lightning bolts of
jolt through my body
shooting from me
stories of grief, and struggles
things I share to help
not to repeat
of loss and love
like a bottled sermon
thrown from above
the words hit me

Details | Rhyme | |


something we said so many times before
a crack in the door
a bit of a poet in all of us
red dust
sunset can’t catch
little bits o’memories
tickles under the tongue
a go-out and get you-one. . . of those
strip the rags off the rappers and sell them off for clothes
make math, in the mathematicians’ presuppose
fire sell it off to celeritas
one more big blink in the big goggles
golden fish missing in the adjustment of pince-nez
had to turn out that way
when all we did was

Details | Light Poetry | |

' The Prince Of The Passionate Land (or) Prince Freakasso ... '

To The Prince Of The Passionate Land
Who Paints, With Both Words and Hands
Lightly Brushing Masterpieces
Riding His Realm, Wherever He Pleases

In A Far Fifth-Dimension of Grandeur
Or On A Different Cubism-Dream-Wonder
Sometimes, He Splash-Blue-Subdued
Oft Times, Just Look At The Hues, He’s Used !

His Word-Pictures Paints Such Fantasies
They Are Prince Freakasso, Styled Originalities
Places, Where Only Imageries, Can Go
Like The ‘Namesake’  Mind of Pablo Picasso

Whose Paintings Shouted, ‘Expressionism’ !
The Same Bold Style Stamps His Individualism
And When Prince Freakasso, Paints With Such Speech
His Lips, Brushes With Words So Sweet

 Prince Freakasso, Of The Passionate Land
Who Paints, With His Lips and Hands
Lightly Brushing Masterpieces
Riding His Realm, Wherever He Pleases

    Aaaah, Sweet Prince
Let Your Painting Commence …

From Your Pearl-Sculptress,


Details | Concrete | |

Contradicted Convict Finds Concept

I used 2 think I know what I wanted out of my confused soul/
I want not what I have ,I want what I never had/
I want my time 2 stop, yet it still continues 2 go/
I strive 2 be good but almost always end up in the bad/
Livin in this American Struggle I was once happy, now seems like Im forever sad/
Im a man of values and peace but find myself in corruptness and fights/
In prison I had many dark days and very few bright nights/
No matter how wrong I was I am still 100% right/
Im searchin for inner peace but find myself so self-conflicted/
I want this but rather have that, Im so self-contradicted/
I find my heart fightin lovely thingz my soul so badly hated/
I want 2 be normal but find my talents by so many overrated/
I find it so easy 2 forsake that I rarely myself ever forgive/
My mind wants 2 die while my heart still wants to live/ 
I want to be recognized that I go unnoticed and lose track of the real me/
So I came 2 a concept of appreciating the fact that Im now free/ 
Now I just want to kick back an be me....

Details | Dizain | |

Dizain Doctor Ram

ababbccdcd 8or10 syll.

Autumnal Coolness

Poetry and life come close to relief
Cool delicate breeze wisp away my cares
Autumn processes dormancy upon leafs
Crisp crackles under foot reminds me, pears!
Juicy sweet tart pears enough to share

Wind in the fair willow billows and shakes
Leaves fall like raindrops pick up the stiff rakes
Tomorrow we sweat wonder where's the cool
Today is mild and pleasant grey on lake
Tomorrow maybe rough like firstclass fool

Contest: Dizain
Sponsor:  Dr. Ram Mehta

Details | Cowboy | |

The Urban Outlaw

Being the urban outlaw has its own rewards, especially when this vingilante-like person is helping the Marshall oficers capture the bad guys. It's just like a modern-day version of the Wild Wild West, except that the buildings (including the saloons) have closed down or whatever. When one of the urban outlaws are riding their horses into town, they're either greeted by the townsfolks or feared by them. What's so great about the urban outlaws in the Wild Wild West is that the cowboys are playing a lot of poker and drinking, but minus the alcoholic beverages, let alone whiskey. Everybody knows that the urban outlaws have their backs, especially when corruption rises in their towns. The urban outlaw has to abide the rules that society has handed to him, especially the townspeople. God only knows that cowboys and outlaws are either against each other or working together and stuff. All urban outlaws also love sleeping by campfires and riding their horses through the heated desert and by the riverbanks. Not only does the urban outlaw has a lot of adventures, even in the Wild Wild West, he also has the freedom to ride his horse anywhere, even in town. Those cowboys and outlaws should be very proud of themselves. But what is so great about being an urban outlaw most of all is when he's on the run from the bad guys who he had jailed, even better. Well, I guess that's how these people roll in the Wild Wild West. Right now, I find the cowboys, the urban outlaws, and the Wild Wild West very interesting, especially when he and/or she's outside of the city. It's also as if we're back in the year 1867. And if there are going to be modern-day urban outlaws and modern-day cowboys everywhere these people go, even in rual places like outside of Dallas and/or Albuquerque, that would be awesome for everybody, even me.

Details | Free verse | |

Lasting Freedom

In the beginning I started off as just another nobody from another nowhere trying make it to somewhere as a somebody as everyone else. In the beginning I was BORN TO LIVE TO DIE, but in the process I was BRED TO LEARN TO SURVIVE. I became a CONVICT OF CHRIST through PAINFUL PLEASURES of my many struggles and strife's. I was a SINFUL SAINT but more of a sinner, mainly a loser and never a winner. I was once considered one of the best, now days I'm just trying to be lower than the rest, unseen in plain sight , NOTHING MORE NOTHING LESS. I became lost in time through my many self-taught TRUE LIES of yet another LOST FIND growing up where few DREAMS LIVE , but many more DREAMS DIE. I soon got LOCKED UP but it was very educational because I LIVED IT and LEARNED FROM IT. I was given a choice to LIVE FREE OR DIE INCARCERATED, so I made that choice to be more loved than hated, so I became UNDER LOVE and OVER HATE, I learned to stop wanting and actually appreciate. Its been hard to change so I became a POET OF PAIN. That's when I learned the truth about those who think their dying for something but they might as well be living for nothing, because I learned that real truth comes from LIVING FOR SOMETHING because I ain't DYING FOR NOTHING. So now I am forever a W.O.L.F. once a warrior of lost freedom now trying to stay a warrior of LASTIN FREEDOM you know what I mean.

Details | Senryu | |

' Lord Alfred Tennyson ...' (Classical-Tribute) 62nd Senryu

‘ Lord Alfred Tennyson … ’ (Classical-Tribute)  62nd  Senryu

       Tennyson Thundered
‘ The Charge Of The Light Brigade ’
      Salutes … Six-Hundred

Details | Haiku | |

Its Never About Winning

Life for many of us around here isn't always about winning, 
because where Im from, it's almost always about losing. 
We learn more from our simple failures and mistakes than we do about our greatest acomplishment's.
 Failure for us is like our greatest teacher. 
Sometimes you have to lose, but I know it doesn't mean I have to stay beaten with failure, all it means is that I too am no better than you and I too am as prone to failure as you if not moreso, so around here it's never about winning.

Details | Rhyme | |

One For The Poets 2K10

I require not brochers.  
For i've been taken aloft  
Disney-like adventures.  
I've been taken thereto Mother  
Nature's finnest edens;  
Complaments of captivating  
and enchanting pens.  

This heart has been enloped  
of poets devotions.  
This heart has simply come to  
fathom wonderful notions.  

Gifts for all to experience  
such pleasures.  
Read, write, delve further;  
There lies poets tresures.  

One has...  
The appreciation.  
One sees...  
The creation.  
One admires...  
The imagination.  
One draws...  
The inspiration

Details | Senryu | |

Little Tiny Thoughts

little tiny thoughts
hidden beneath soft feathers
fly on big strong wings

(c) Copyright Christine A Kysely All Rights Reserved
 (October 24, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin USA)

Details | Senryu | |

' Alfred Noyles ... ' (Classical-Tribute) 63rd Senryu

‘Alfred Noyles … ’ (Classical-Tribute)  63rd   Senryu

   Alfred Noyles’ Poem Rings
‘The Highwayman’, Came Riding
   … Still Gets Me Crying …

Details | Bio | |

City Two

leotard atrocities may 
never have been led, 
the path of glory…  
had she not kissed the 
air in alphabetical designs, 

Details | Light Poetry | |

' The Pied Piper Poem ... '

… Was He A Fiend
Or A Friend ?
Where Did He Take
The Children ?

With Gaiety
He Played !
What Childhood
Dreams-Displayed ?

In Each
Cherry-Cheeked Head …
That Followed

… Only Poor Little
Crippled Tom
Sadly, Got Left Behind
At Home

Whose Honest Parents
Were Only Ones Nice
To Pied Piper
And Willing To Pay Price

… and So, Kindly He
Left Their Son
But Took All
 The Other Ones …

Was He A Fiend
Or A Friend ?
They Should Have Paid
 At First, When …

… But Pied Piper Played
His Payback Tune
And Danced Hamlin’s Hearts
…and Raw-Deal To Doom

Details | Acrostic | |

You Snooze You Loose

<                                        Artist searching for a muse
                                          Creativity is the key
                                          Recant those memories 
                                          Open your heart and soul
                                          Start spreading the news
                                          There's poetry to be found
                                          Inside each and everyone of us
                                          Can't you hear the music

                                          To the beaten drum
                                          Whistle while you work
                                          Or you'll snooze and lose

Entry For
Jared Pickett's Contest
Acrostic 2
G.L. All

Details | Haiku | |

Le Vacance Pretentieuse: Storm Part II

The Med between us
The gusts make me think of you
Storms... it’s just like home.

Details | Rhyme | |

Poetry About Poetry

Shades of color bounce within
Singing their hues dancing in place
Vivid lines colored outside
Rules broken with empty space
A midnights dream heard and seen
Gleaming from the twinkle of a eye
Wings touched flown and plucked
Gliding like a bird up in the sky
Wishes from pennies thrown into tears
The reservoir over flowing with pigments of pain
Drowning from the shadows 
The flood paints the day
Words speak volumes of silence hidden
Their sounds blind to what they see
Mirrors of nouns and verbs 
Their meaning and secrets lost at sea
Emotions ruled by laws of language
Spelled in boxes of glass
Melted from sands inside
That voices strangle to grasp

Details | Epic | |

Mind Thought Determination

What is mind thought determination? 
It is the sophisticated thoughts of a individual wit self-taught mental sophistications.
 It is the chemical mind thought process brain inspirational enhanced created word creations.
 It is the one thought that keeps your hopes from being eliminated by your own weak minded self-doubt double eliminations.
 It is the the thought that can turn your own pains into pleasure of our own sensified sensations. 
It is the thought that can turn you into a leader of tis lost generation to inspire my reservation and maybe even in others parts of this nation to get your own redemptive vindication of those who took away your aspirations.
Mind thought determination is for your embracing not to be forsaken, 
you are your own movie in the making, let not your hope in the mind be shaken.
 MIND THOUGHT POWER over all tis senseless hating, we got to stop all our senseless
 chasing, you are forever a leader in this free world racing. 
If you locked up it don't matter how much time that you facing. 
 It is the thought to use what is against you and turn your hateration into inspiration.
My mind has but one destination of all mankinds fascinations .....and that is to finally use my MIND THOUGHT DETERMINATION.........

Details | Quatrain | |


He lived when Elvis, the Beatles, Johnny Cash and the Rolling Stones
had strings of hits and he passionately hummed those up-beat songs...
dreaming of becoming as successful and famous as they were;
and following his dream, he turned into a big country singer!

Everywhere he went, he carried a heavy transistor radio
and listened to them and learned those country and rock lyrics...
and the longer he sung them, the more he fed his ego,
so he wrote words without music, hoping to create melodies!.

Sitting at the piano as Beethoven did, he frantically played those keys,
blending them with easiest chords; and if they sounded awkward to him,
he would certainly use another chord that was simpler and more harmonic...
so the boy's passion for music grew as he planned to hit many unknown roads!

Up North, people called country stars:  hillbillies with nasal, funny voices
and such names like rednecks caught on; one would be surprised by their remarks,
or at how they unfairly they were discriminated...and they were all proud Americans!
But the boy's passion for music took him to unimaginable heights and riches!

Details | ABC | |

The Letter S

I can use the letter s with so many s words, 
I am the seventh sign supreme soldier from the reservation suburbs, 
I fly like seagull in the open ocean sky supreme like an serpant eagle eating birds,
 I am so solid Im siked and sipped up from the sizzy sizzurp, 
I stagger until I swerve swiftly as snake in the souless society lost curbs, 
life so crooked it stained with soaked blood life around death curves, 
I cant believe so many lost soveriegn souls *****on they own siblings as the culture turns,
 I know I am sure of being sure of what I sought to learn, 
The brain with suicide can sometimes burn. 

Souless savage in society I be among little certain satans, lost in circles saying "7th Sign Empire Engraving"like my own still souls of savage culture on certain colors discriminating,
 But whats even worse is soul on souls hating, 
Society severed in broken circles still forsaken, 
Serpants searching society split in seven different groups of seven hundred seventy-two,
 Forsake my Se7en and I forsake thee seven times seven fold because truth be said Im souless to you,
 Se7enth Sign Supreme Solid Serene Soldier of of the sacred seven, 
I say I have always said society on my word S

Details | Blank verse | |

Writing Under Pressure

 Im sitting here writing under pressure/ my life is optomistic even though it getting lesser/ Im sitting here writing for tomorrow if this should be my death letter/
 I know I aint the best but I could be doing better/
 Im softer that a bunny but I can get froggy hard skinned like leather/ 
Im standing out in this cold written breeze with no sweater/
 Im swimming through oceans and flying through storms no matter the weather/ 
Im shooting up a dosage of true lies like Im the only drama setter/ 
I've been filled with wisdom of worth ever since I met her/ 
I cant be beat by knowledge only if I let her......ever since that day of fate I've been Writing Under Pressure....

Details | Chant Royal | |

Back In Denial

Yeah Im feeling a lil too native tonight like Im on da rez like a youngster drunk and suicidal
 Poppin pills like Im poppin at my own people like they my culturalistic rivals 
I'm dying slowly like my culture yet Im still reading the about God and the Holy Bible
 I almost died not once but twice thats why I strive for survival 
Im a lil mad at God ever since he took my lil brother but I shall get over it in a lil while
 Im more greatful ever since he gave back life with my first child 
Living life up to this point in my life has now been worth the while 
time ticking away everyday on da rez like the sun dial 
so no time to waste any longer in this tribulation of another life to death trial
 I shall bring back all my lost long life culture files 
I am like a new trend people Im litterally making my own clothes with the Rez Life 7 style
 I shall overcome bull*****even if at times it gets me a lil riled 
Breaking through hangovers like out the stomach comes last nights bile 
Im litterally building onto whats left in my trash pile 
I aint going to stop until I have my legs crushed during the last mile 
I hit jumps in my car through life as it idles 
This is just but another life lived in gratitude I cant lie though 
It shouldnt matter too much in the end because I will be high Bro 
Insanely flying in the sky like an acrobatic physco 
Shooting through leather problems like a twelve gauge rifle 
so much it makes my own heart with a quick fix stifle 
Im gonna make it through my haters doubts with a quick glance as I smile 
I will bring back hope not to theirs or yours but my own before I end up back in denial

Details | Verse | |

Le Vacance Pretentieuse: Baggage Claim

Drained to my very heart by our slow-paced arrival, 
          I wander through tasteless decor to the metal arches 
                                                Beyond which a future is unfurled.
My bag’s innards are spilled like blood in the Bible
          Before the cold gaze of the armed man who marches;
                                                He holds the key to this new world.

The mechanistic arch stands and takes quasi-sentience 
          Beside passport control, piercing my finely popped 
                                                Eardrums with sonic solemnity.
I am refused by technology but stagger forward hence 
          Into baggage claim where a suitcase pile is propped 
                                                Up like a holiday Tetris calamity.

My suitcase is soul black and with difficulty is found,
          In its lucid eagerness to fasten itself a faux family;
			   Airports are filled with pretences.
Now we are away again, small trolley safe and sound,
          On the road from snow, heat is where I plan to be.
                                                Our intrepid journey commences...

Details | Rhyme | |


Introduction: This is a new word which should be added to the English language
to the English dictionary, as in that it is not already there!  I am now introducing
this newest of word's and if you ask me why, well then " I don't Know!  It mean's
just that I don't know.  This word can sometime's deplict to be graphic and sometime's taken literally in it's most common form.

Ishcaduata   (ish-ca-duata)

Some say that it could be British
But, I don't know
You can call it American
And here we go
Because I could ish-ca-duata anywhere
I can do it in a chair
No matter how many times we do it
The people, they only stare
You can ish-ca-duata any time
You can ish-ca-duata
Your house or mind
You can ish-ca-duata
Ish-ca-duata with a close friend'
You can do it in the kitchen
You can do it in the den
I like to ish-ca-duata
I do it in my jeans
I can ish-ca-duata wearing
Almost anything
I can ish-ca-duata-du
I can ish-ca-duata-di
I can ish-ca-duata-cee
Till it make's me pee
I, Ish-ca-duata when it's kind of slow
I even ish-ca-duata in the snow
But, if you want to know
Exactly what it mean's
Well, I can tell you
That is is exactly what it seem's
All that I can say is that 
It mean's I don't know
And that is just about as far
As it go
And when I go to the spell-check
To ask the question
It always' tell me
Their is no suggestion
O'h, Ishcaduata

Details | Pantoum | |

The Storyteller

I was mesmerized by the tales he told
of foreign lands and shores.
Tales of bravery and men so bold
going off to fight their wars.

Of foreign lands and shores,
his stories hold rapt attention.
Going off to fight their wars
immersed in intrigue and tension.

His stories hold rapt attention
to all who gather to hear.
Immersed in intrigue and tension,
stories of bravery and fear.

To all who gather to hear
from this storyteller so great,
stories of bravery and fear,
stories of love and hate.

From this storyteller so great,
tales of bravery and men so bold.
Stories of love and hate.
I was mesmerized by the tales he told.

Details | Acrostic | |

Love's Reverence, a cover of ''A Boat Beneath A Sunny Sky''

Chivalrist of pure intent
Honoured by the ears that lent
A tale recounted to content

Resplendant wonders brought to ear
Laments that draw an unseen tear
Evasion of the heart's deep fear

Soft young mind and placid eyes
Lucid to the tale's disguise
Unseeing the truth behind the lies

There upon the golden water
Wimsically listening to the lauder
Inclines the middle Liddell daughter

Days have come and years have passed
Golden evenings couldn't last
Erosionary time has swept too fast

Dreary dawns and bitter nights
Overcame the muse's might
Dead and gone, that fragile light

Greiving when his heart was tore
Secreted to land of lore
On through Wonderland he'll soar

Now to dream forevermore

Details | Ode | |

New Orleans, Louisiana: aka The Big Easy

What's go great about New Orleans, Louisiana, is that of its jazz music and its voodoo culture. The city has been known as "The Big Easy" since the 1800s. It seems that all of the tourists from across the United States have considered New Orleans their favorite vacation spot. There's always a Mardi Gras every day, we've got people throwing beads at each other, jazz musicians playing their instruments (the saxophones, trumpets, etc.), and people dress in costumes every single day. But what's so great about New Orleans, Louisiana, most of all is that when spring breakers come to the city for spring break, even when they're still going to college. Everybody knows that the Big Easy is also known for its Cajun cooking, especially when the chefs are known for making a lot of jambalaya, gumbo, and a lot of Cajun foods. And what's so great about New Orleans, Louisiana, is when MTV was there, especially when the MTV network executives had been recording episodes of "The Real World:" one back in 2000, the other was back in 2010. New Orleans, Louisiana, is the strongest city in America, even though it was destroyed by Hurricane Katrina back in August 2005. But the famous street best known by New Orleans, Louisiana, most of all is the French Quarter and and one of New Orleans' favorite landmarks is the St. Louis Cathedral. And the New Orleans Arena and the Louisiana Superdome are home to the New Orleans Hornets (NBA-National Basketball Association) and the New Orleans Saints (NFL-National football League). Even the late Louis Armstrong was from the city. Well, I hope to go to New Orleans, Louisiana, one day. And if the City of New Orleans were to stay on the map for a long time, it's going to be like a Mardi Gras on a Saturday night and Fat Tuesday in the afternoon.

Details | I do not know? | |

'the twitch'

This is the story of ‘the twitch’.  
We have all had it:  
   That bit of movement before we sleep.  
We have been awakened by it when we were younger. . . it threw our arm out to catch us 
before we fell out of bed.
   It was even younger than that for us.  
   It was sometimes confused with a kick --  from our mothers’ tummies  to the swaddle of 
   As we grew, the arm no longer flew. . . and thus. . . ‘the twitch’.
   It is thought that we started with 
a parting of the energy that mathematicians make Einsteins 
of, or, 
sounds of the aria that Mozart’d 
into our echoes of the day --  a marriage of concept and conceptual.  
   It took us through the outreach of awkward doubt. . . brought us ‘round the curve 
of nerve 
for monkey bars toward the first dance; drew blood in our mouths before we got the first 
punch – given/taken.
The part of ‘the twitch’ 
that is worthy of noting now is that 
   it has never wanted to be caught:  
   It wanted more than nothing to be left alone – perhaps; conceived that 
   it would be an occasion for cause. . . effect – the drive our parents tried to delay 
with Dr. Seuss and Disney books.  A teenage indifference took us away from 
We all fall asleep. . . as we’ve always done.  
The story of ‘the twitch’ begins at the thumb; carries on. . . for the course of fingers
   it touched.
Brings  us a little closer to the edge of our beds.

Details | Free verse | |



To get someone to read my poems… Contests there must be.
They must be bleeping nuts thinking I can follow all those cockeyed rules.
Out of a zillion types of poems they always pick the weirdest ones.
Allowed only 16 lines… I found I stopped at ninety-one.
And for a topic they want a bird throwing glitter from a tree.
How about I spank them as I put them across my knee!!!
And why must I name it… as they told me? Where’s that for creativity?
Then they want a special comment added in the poem…
I would rather not add plagiarism… I’d rather call it my own.
But, you know, I am so very needy that I’ll do whatever they want.
Well… I’ll do, maybe one or two… of the things they want.
I know this makes it harder to judge the poems that are found therein.
But to me a poem… is a funny bent on my crazy whim.
Then suddenly, Lord Have Mercy… my poem didn’t win.
But I’m happy as punch for even with their strained smile…
I’m sure they read one of my poems yet again. :)

(Meant only for fun) I'm not really complaining. Just having fun.

Details | Free verse | |

Thoughts of A Song Writer

From my thoughts on the paper in which it lies, 
My everlasting passion is inked as it dries.
The way I feel inside, you might want to spy,
But if you pry, how will my lyrics surprise?
A song for thought will only leave a thought.
May sound difficult, but that’s just how I talk.
I was lost, but I found me.
Dreaming and believing that writing was my key.
The way it flows and the way that it goes pumps me to speak
the very thoughts that many minds chose to keep.
Many rocks I’ve kicked and many decisions I’ve made.
Any wrongs I take the blame.
Tic-tac-toe is only a game.
I plagiarize your eyes with the notes that I’ve taken,
A high note here and a low note there-
You’d swear I’m in your head when my song hits your ear.
Pain recognizes pain
And I’ve have my share of bandages.
 My vibes from life heals the permanent damages.
Thoughts of a Songwriter,
Reaches farther beyond the beat,
Over the lyrics on the sheet,
Not only is it about the speech,
 But more of what the message seeks.
True enough a theme is touched and a heart is rushed.
With the mind-throbbing picture disappearing 
Through the ink of my pen and revealed through your lens,
You can’t hear me, but do you feel me?
I cherish my talent and where it could possibly sweep me.
My doubts and my worries are beneath me.
I love for brighter days and pray for more things to pave.
Call my life my number because its infinite.
Thoughts of a Songwriter,
My mentality drips it.

Details | Couplet | |

Tale of Fright

Frigid hands of a raven sky
Capture murmurs of a feral lullaby

Terror now awakens to cleave sensation
Dismay now devours thoughts of elation

Lucid black, the void prevails
Grasping the mind into its prolonging trails

Body asunder, shattering with dread
Passionate with fear from toe to head

It is from the night... dark, viscous, and saccharine
Dissolving in sky like honey in wine

That mesmerizes thought, body, and sight
Plundering all into a tale of fright...

Inspired by Dean Koontz's books of terror and beauty

Details | Rhyme | |


No funnier laughter
sounds like this laughter...
when its pitch vibrates as sound;
I may giggle at times, but I'm always kind!

Who will tackle me and make me laugh louder than clowns 
by telling me those jokes you heard somewhere?
Were they told by travelers roaming cities and towns,
or were they written down on some rough paper?

Oh, humor you make life sumptuously grand...
when all one needs is the company of some friend!
Sit down and let's tell each other stories that satisfy our literary itch;
let's unearth stories of the famous and the infamous, of the humble and the rich! 

No funnier laughter
is heard around the entire globe;
you may hurt your ear's lobe...
when I laugh harder than Cher!

Details | Quatrain | |

Student's Descent

with apologies to E. A. Poe...

Student Descent

At first the chamber's gentle rapping could not my slumber even stir,
but as it came to be a tapping sonorous visions were to be no more.
And as I stumbled in the darkness, I heard her voice distinctly cry
"O Ed your offer reconsidered will now with me an evening buy!"

Femininity with such harsh bravado, what lady offers such taboo affairs?
I've read of men, weak in the loin, who fall into such infectious snares.
Flesh's joys can wait, I've got to study, for school has such quick paces
and as a student of the arts, time's robbed me of all social graces

Alas, I dream of that day of bliss, but now Ed's the man and I'm the other.
I ask her name and Eleanor is given, by her, but certainly not her mother.
"He's not here, in fact, I don't know him." I utter with a boy's tone.
"Well I'm still here, and you're awake, and so am I and all alone."

My thoughts arranged like a card deck dropped, and left with such a feeble mind.
Should I ignore this dream, or is it real? Behind the door what will I find?
A gentleman would let her in, at least she'd have safe haven.
But to my shock with doors pullled wide, there's nothing but a raven...

Now I'm not mad, but this is odd, as a women spoke, not a bird at my feet,
so I sprint to my room, bury my head...but now it's clear...the wooden floor's
got a beat...

Details | Free verse | |


knobby-knee’d, toes that stop 
bend and pick up 
penny, marble, rock 
outside chalk 
on concrete, begging, for me to turn around 
for one more try 

Details | Haiku | |


Writing non-sense words
to keep this mind occupied
and avoid madness.

Wandering in streets,
when nobody greets and smiles...
alone seeking rare ideas.

So bored, unispired  
and tense...writing non-sense words
'till sunrise arrives.

Details | Epic | |

A New Collection to the Eye Forest

Crackling blood lies in these forest grounds
Grass growing by its lively effect…
Growing a grimace to the environment    
As the predators hung her on the branches,
carving her left eye on the oak tree
and carving her right eye on the olive tree

They grow livelier…
sucking up the carrions from off the ground
Drowning the vines that try to 
suffocate and remove them for life
left to be in history…unceasingly forgotten 

Now the forest has industrialized into an Eye Forest
Eyes protruding…extorting on the tree trunks
Liquefied by anguish…they had wished to escape
Their pupils punctured by arrows of death 
They grow more affectionate towards the lively soul… 
watching people suffer in indignity and disproof
Here’s that living evidence! Hidden proof!
Hunted by the worst predator out there
in the deepest of the forest

The eyes seem to stare into your own
Locked with your frightening vibes 
Feeling your dangling fears and pain 
Weeping them insane…
there is no one out there to be blamed,
even in the deepest of the forest

Oh you carrion heart, soul and body
you are accepted to the collection
and grow insanely and look into a world of reflection

You are one of those who lie in the midst of obscurity 
JUST wait till the day of Resurrection... 

Oh you carrion soul and body 
Surviving through the shadows of the forest, 
roaming along the compacted forest, 
moping about in displeasure 
because without a doubt 
you are a magnificent collection 
to the eye generation 
to look upon a cheerless, remorseful life,
Given away by the predator

They soon diminish the evidence…
Here’s that living evidence! Hidden proof!
You’re left for dead after all

Allow them to spread one of your eyes
on this tantalizing tree
Let them do their job as a hunter
Your awareness is diminished

Allow yourself to not be startled 
Lose yourself,
and later on, you’ll break free of pain and fear

Details | Sonnet | |

Sonnet 15

As technology has progressed , bound leaps ,
within the nanny state , Man simply sleeps .
Replaced Automatic ; Manual Labour.
Solved by Machine mind's , Binary No more .
For synthetic constructs for your whim , creeps
pumping cheese-its into bulging wheeze heaps.

So keep That lard thru blood , spotless , can ignore
such irritations as ; Clearing the floor .

While Digital duty serves ; watch those beeps 
streaming 24/7 fiction keeps
sake in sight , forms pixel ; away those flaws 
by Avatar's dream , away life's true claws.

While around , leashed , the world quietly leaps ,
Attended by metal hands ; Left
	Man Sleeps....

Details | Tail-rhyme | |









Details | Epic | |

The Metropolitan Area

The metropolitan area consists of everything like theaters, museums, restaurants, and a lot of hotels and skyscrapers. But most of all, the cities are filled with public transportation(city buses, subways, trains, taxi cabs, and airports, e.g.) and a lot of luxurious vehicles. Whether anyone is in either New York City, Los Angeles, Dallas, Tokyo, Toronto, London, or wherever, the city is everybody’s lives. It seems that all metropolitan areas are considered awesome vacation spots, even for tourists. The metropolitan areas from the United States of America and the world each have a lot of famous landmarks, especially those of the Gateway Arch, the Empire State Building, the Golden Gate Bridge, Big Ben, etc. All downtown areas are best known for attracting would-be city folks to go to, and that’s a real fact. Well, frankly, all cities from the United States of America and beyond are harder to get away from, even in the Los Angeles area of Hollywood,California. And imagine my surprise when I found out that Downtown Ft. Worth, Texas, has a movie theater  and a Barnes & Noble book store. Being from the metropolitan area has its awesome advantages, especially when he or she has been influenced by the hip-hop culture and the urban culture. Well, I guess this is just the essence of urban living. The cities also have cooler downtown apartments in the downtown areas, especially in Dallas and in Ft. Worth. Boy, if I were to visit either Calgary, Alberta, Canada, Venice, Italy, London, England, Charlotte, North Carolina, or wherever, I’d stay there for a week or tow; I’d bring back some souvenirs. I wonder if the cities will still be there and there’s going to be more awesome cities in the future, Well, I guess I’ll never know. We’re all very cool for a bunch of city folks. And when he or she is in the city, it's like driving on the city streets, especially when he or she is driving either a Nissan Armada, a Cadillac Escalade EXT, or one of those BMW vehicles. I’m looking forward to residing in one of the metropolitan areas either out of state or another country, if that were to happen, that would be great.

Details | Rhyme | |

Morning Motivation

Here and there life is everywhere 

Listen the noise what the birds are making there

Just open your visions and set the missions

Feel near as happiness here

Details | ABC | |

Verbally Twisted

My vocabulary might be a little bent and dented but its mostly twisted, 
a self-made dictionary with a little dark thought and white light in life and craziness itself mixed in it,
 I get up in the morn ready to take the day on after just one egg on a pancake biscuit,
 I got the recipe for verbal insanity just give me the egg beater and with this vocabulary I'll mix in it,
 break the word batter down like a plumber leaking water until I re fix it, 
I got one of kind writing style its too unique for any typical fool to ****en miss it,
 I got the entertainment on writing just ask me for one and I wont sell it I'll just give you a free Se7en King ticket,
 I get your mind thought high so high in the sky lifted, 
I can give a two flying ****s if my haters say I aint got talent because these words they self so freaking gifted,
 I make poems shake like earthquakes fools cant you see how my words already got your mind shifted,
 This poem is my girl I kiss it, 
This poem is just like my weed i roll up and ****ing hit it, 
This word written *****is so addictive, 
Drugs and alcohol so self-conflictive, 
now how can this king ever, ever quit it, 
These words are dying I better get some gas for this verbal car like weed everyday I better get it,
 I live the life of a young Shakespeare I write like I cant ever regret it, 
I put this poetry *****on the line with my own life dont think I wont bet it? 
So **** you, they, them, her and even me, yeah there I done said it, 
letting go of poetic gun shells firing poetic unleaded, 
shooting cowardice poets like paper shredded, 
where many young lost crooked souls go unfed den, 
watch where your two feet may be treading, 
you got to watch your surrounding so much they circle around the same setting, 
**** Life until death say's otherwise, 
I'm just kind of crazy like that I'm just a little TWISTZTED.... TWISTIFIED...

Details | Couplet | |

The Blessing for My Book

As my job and health failed me... I dreamed to someday put together a 
book of poetry and this will be the blessing it will begin with...

As I sit here weaving my poetry
Into the semblance of a book…
I find that I must ask Gods’ blessing…
For the journey, that together we have took.

I find I must bow my head in thought…
Over this book that together we have wrought
As my hands clasp oh so reverently and earnestly over my heart…
As I believe his help brought the words together that I sought.

And God set the journey that shaped what now before you begins…
He helped me find the words that reached through my heart to my pen.
I pray the poems will be worthy of what he showed me as my life’s art.
And upon this book I honestly pray that his blessing he will impart. 

Details | Free verse | |

Rare Book

Curator rings last bells
Closing for the night

In a deep dark sea
Behind blackened windows
Lies shelves in mystical infatuations
Where rare tomes must dwell away from modern day
Among ancient particles of manuscript saturation 
Mysteries here they have no end
But, initiate in the middle of a murder; suicide
Drama, gradually unfolds as volumes friend
Forever reaching into mind

But, when romance grows placid or even thinks to die
That’s when passion for adventure begins
And the creator’s world comes to life
Swashbuckling across the places
Of both space and time
Islands are the pages
Where all are meant to be
But, the concern is for that something
A hope, for enlightenment inside thy keep
It’s a hand that simply chooses wise
Either, mingled fantasy or truthful care
A will to be cast away or thrills abound
Is the self among folios rare

Become the one held captive
Adrift in compelling song
Following upon knowledge
A walking traveler
That soon, will begin to run
Ageless secrets
And heroes
Do exist
Do them justice
Merely, turn a page
Of any book

Details | Classicism | |


I feel so lost so gone, but yet so found/ My mind so weak, so fragile, but yet so determined so bound/ Mind so high so fly but still on the ****in ground/ Voice so silent so quiet, but yet so loud/ Feel so skinny so thin but still gaining them poundz/ Thought I wouldn't make it through the first but still standing in the seventh round/ My words so limp so skimp, but yet still making them gangstified soundz/ I feel so energized so choatic but still wanna lounge/ Ya'll better be ready when 7 comes through your town!!!! I can't lyrically quit for shyt/ Living around rez life lyrical bull isshh/ fake ass hating trickz/ wanna be bloodz and fake ass cripz/ I jus need to kick back and take another green hit/ ****a alcoholic fit/my own lizzife iz like a three dimensional skit/ I got to wake up and let myself go..can't hang on no more......gots to find my lost heart and soul...God please let a young native like me grow to know the real shyt in life!!

Details | ABC | |

Street Soldier

My baseball cap is my helmet and my Nike's are my boots, 
My country is my hood and my colors on my flag are niether red white or blue, 
My weapon of choice is my two hands, 
sometimes it can be whatever when I am threatened with a great fall from my stand,
 I have no general or soldiers but I have family and above all I got heart. 
My battlegrounds remain in my own home and sometimes even in the local Wal-Mart.
 Every inch of my hood is up for friendly fire, 
Violence remains apart of life around here searching for peace is far from desire,
 Everyday remains but another day someone will die, 
but more importantly is that another mother, brother, sister or father will cry.
 But I am a street soldier so I am prepared for anothers or worse yet my own demise,
 And as a street soldier I must keep the battle in check, no not with what I see with my two eyes, but what war is really going on inside the mind,
 My battles dont come from without but from within......I am a street soldier fighting through time.....

Details | Lyric | |

Between and About

Twixt And between
Never quite there
But never will I stop.
I work and ponder
Forever moving 
Searching around and about.

There are times I wonder, where I really am?
Will I ever achieve my goals?
And what are the goals I’m searching for?
Are they really what I want?
Do I know which way to go?
Or should I start all over and begin again?

We’re all here at times in our lives…
Till every thing will finally become clear.
Then, some how I’ll be there again:
Twixt and between
Never quite there…
Here I go again.

Fluff Contest: This poem is definately full of fluff.

Details | Senryu | |

A Fairy Tale

grasping a bright bloom
enchanting words he whispers
the birds sing praises

Details | Free verse | |



When east, is still the very east
The horizon  still hold their peace;
This trend shall be passionate dialogue
With the winds,
While western clouds 
Remain sole passage for the setting sun.

I speak in multiple tongues
My voice is laced
Pool  of colourful litanies.

I fashioned  innumerable company of words
Wrapped them up
For the winds 
To bear  across the distance depths.

The messages…
Are lingering clear lines
All along 
circle of flux meanings


© Aduloju adekunle

Details | Haiku | |


dancing with my muse
twisting desire into dreams-
my pencil lead breaks

Details | Name | |



  S-  sanction
  A-  apprehension
  N-  negitivism
  I-  insainity
  T-  tentitive
  A-  accenssion
  R-  redirective
  I-  immobilization
  U-  under seat
  M-  man handle

Details | I do not know? | |

Caught Up In The Rock And Roll Game

Don’t get caught up in the game 
Don’t get caught up in the fame
It will drive you insane
It’s only you to blame 
When you get caught up in the game*Refrain: 

Because you walk through the crowd
They all know your name
The road twists and twists
 With a surprise each turn
Try to stay above it all or you’ll soon learn
 That the eyes looking in are hungry for your blood
Don’t mistake it for the love
Cause they all want a piece 
Of the music, rhythm, and soul
They love the Rock n Roll
Then there’s the girl who writes the rhymes  
Loves the love and soon you’ll find
Her spirit is so real and her sex appeal
I know you feel 
The fire that burns from the words she writes to you
It’s a powerful heat that makes your heart feel new
She loves the melody you put in her soul
It warms her heart, it makes her whole
Her spirit soars so high 
When you look into her eyes
The fire is so hot between the girl and this rock n roll guy               

Don’t get caught up in the game
Don’t get caught up in the fame
It will drive you insane
It’s only you to blame
When you get caught up in the game

Details | Grook | |

A Knight's Parody

A magic knight coursing on in brilliance

On lean hack in clanging, cleaving aegis,

Crunching incantation-dark, blunt, and grunt.

So light illumines his cold, whiskered phiz

And it predates the warrior in night hunt.

Chase is stashed by shade then stir lulls to prance

When periphery is gorged by a mist.

Pitches of bolts burst ahead ere he cries.

His corpus recoils from cuffs in the breasts;

Wide-flat nose lights down to the ground; he dies.

Details | Rhyme | |

The Sun's Rays

The sun’s devouring rays
Reveals an astounding sensation against the marvelous universe
It caresses the earth with warm hugs and gives life to the motionless gaze
Its auras are above nature’s designating exteriors
Its swaying beauty is beyond Earth’s inhabitants, deserving my praise

It treasures the sky with joyousness and forms swarms of jeering birds
The sighs of the wind attracts clamoring herds

The sun’s appalling flames
Unshackles a zealous tune that reveals the Earth’s accord
It embraces the atmosphere with remarkable claims
Unraveling my curiosity; my ears are pleading to hear more, so I go forward!

It prizes the ocean with eagerness and forms swarms of screeching seagulls 
The strength of the waves draws in scorching souls 

The sun's unattainable rays 
Motivate life to trail on till its duty is done
Its auras seep through the whirling sky and strays
Embracing ambitious love like a father and son  

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 | Blank verse | |


Twenty-four hours of pure silence
Time devoid of human speech and sound
When a word is not uttered
A day in the world of profound dumbness
The tongue, the teeth and lips
Observe a break of twenty-fours hours
 The ears hear 
The rhythm of the air, water and fire
And enjoy the lyrics of the birds
With the rhythmical dance of the trees and plants
Gossips, rumors and curses took flight
Deceit lies and tongue wagging expelled
Splits and spits of the tongues avoided
World’s day of quietude and tranquility
A day of inner communication
When the deep calls to the deep
And people transits the limits of spoken words
Into perceptions and intuitions 
Birthing profound thoughts and ideas 
As each make contact with the inner person
A day without speech
How beautiful, how priceless!
Oh! How I long for that day!!

Details | Free verse | |

my favourite path

i see it before me 
i have not stepped towards, nor walked along its direction 
it is clearly there for me to do so 
the decision 
can stray left or right of the way I go 
and all I know 
is that it starts 
before me

Details | Concrete | |

The Quill

                                                Page Seeking Life                   
                                         Blank                      Exploring           
                                    This                      Peace 
                                  Beyond                        The
                               Alone                    World
                             Travel      Joy      Unknown
                            Night      The     Letting      
                            And       Feel        Others
                          Day        To            See
                          You                Using
                             Like      Silvery    
                             Just  Quill


Details | Light Poetry | |

' Flashlight-Battery, Baby ... ' (or Shine On Jared Pickett)

The Girls Have All Agreed
On Some Things, All Women Need:
A Supply Source For Our Vanity
… and The Eveready-Flashlight-Battery …

Going Down A ‘Random’ Road
In The Deep of Night, When Life Has Slowed
Down … or Car Comes To A Stop
We Need An Energizer or Copper-Top …

In The Deep of Night, Trying To See
And Feel Safe, Thru Our Ambiguity
When We Need More Than Flicker-Flattery
… Give Us A Flashlight Battery …

… Your Flashlight Smile
Your Flashlight Style
Your Flashlight Confidence
Your Flashlight Manliness

Your Flashlight Ego
Is A Flashlight Hero
… and The Flashlight Form, Most With It
Is The Flashlight, Jared Pickett …

… Incorrigible, Adorable, Really More Than Capable
Hot, Poetry-Soup Staple And Palpable
With Appetites, Insatiable
Your Poetry is Quite Potent-Pleasurable

So, Flash On, Big Screen Valentino !
Lead On, With Lines of A Lothario
Casanova, Would Be Your Acolyte
( ‘Cause Even A Lady Needs A Flashlight )

Flash On, In Sensual-Satisfactory !
Give A Taste of Testosterone-Trajectory
No Girl Can Stand Before A Man, In All His Glory
This Is Factory-Tag… and It’s Man-datory

If Dura-Cell, I Got A Place For You
So, You Can  Keep Doing, What Cha’ Do
And Power-Up, Like You’ve Alluded
‘Cause This Doll, Needs Batteries Included …

And Pour Me A Real-Strong Daiquiri
Put On Favorite CD, Slow-Dance, Track For Me
And Come Here, You Copper-Top-Skinned Honey
And Beat That Drum … You Energizer-Bunny

To:     Jared Pickett … The Flashlight
         and The Romeo Of Poet-Writes
This One’s An Original – Just For You Kiddo …

                 Your Poet-Pal,
                       The MoonBee

Details | Free verse | |


blinding addiction
locks my pen to blank pages
freedom floods my soul
seasons change quickly
forbidden poison creeps in
brandishing hatred
letters and words drip
escaping my souls dark depths
today no one dies

Details | Blank verse | |


Again, I got it wrong
She wasn’t bathing nor making up
She was of her natural look
Holding a Bible with her phone  
Coming straight from a vigil
Forget not, it was 7.15am

Not too tall as I envisaged
A bit lighter in body colour 
Her facial beauty was not magical
Her smile was same as that on phone
While her eye lashes speaks for itself
But her teeth-gap is of instant special effect
In all, she is of an average beauty.

Alayande Stephen T.
23rd November, 2007

On my way to Ikare

Details | Rhyme | |


The light of my life is the tide of the tight
Which half of witchcraft is blight to unbright?
Paper of papal intent in the tent
Fare of the fate to the wittingly went

Knives are nice, but butter is better
A flick of the wrist and a twist of the fetter
Burn through the binder and break down the bricks
The deluge of delusion that stickles and sticks

Ruptured erruptions of singing to sin
Enraptured in rapture by fiddling the fin
Won't will your wont until the wight's won
Sorrowful song of the son of the sun

Lice come less when Winter won't wrest
Sum of the Summer rests in the West
Oughn't the Autumn to singe from the binge
Swing with the Spring of the tingling tinge

Donning the dawn of the bleeding night's blight
Moon dies at noon at the frightening fight
Dust of the dusk falls to slickening breath
Bright light of deep night dreams quickening death.

Details | Free verse | |

To the beginning and over but Never Out

Oh please, I plead
Listen to my beseech
I raise my hands out to you
take them please

In this dark void I walk through
there is no comfort
no warmth
no joy

slowly it leaches out all that I hold
when will I ever reach the end?
Do you know where the end is?
Is the end where the end of the end is?

Lost, dazed, confused
Did God pluck me out
and strand me here?

three doors, three paths, three choices
one Mundane

ransom me out
an open cage, such as this atramentous nightmare
no end
no path

Is there hope? 
Hope is where light is
is the light at the end where darkness is not?
is the light where the light always materializes from?


Details | ABC | |

Gold Rush

Able bodies come..
dig .. excavate.. find gold..
how I jumped..keep looking..
mercy.. Nothing!.. 
ore... picks..quick rising 
settlements.. tents.. Unbelievable..
Vigilantes.. Worries... xenophobic.. 
yelling zestfully..

Details | Narrative | |


In June everything was festive and green,
a patch of deep blue couldn't  be seen...
the struggling sun was kept off, with dire,
by a dense foilage of emerald;
and the robins competed with the blue-jays
to harmonize a new song with notes
that even a great composer couldn't write...
Oh, how I loved that sweet sound!

Auburn trees in Fall showed a dull color
andulated by the softest wind,
which wasn't as perfumed as that of spring,
and its sadness was compensated by a beauty,
which inspired a poet and a composer
to write it with a tender melancholy;
and I jotted down the impressive images
of a peaceful Nature that revealed its loveliness!

The freight trains scurred through the defoliating forest,
I found a massive rock and laid my body to rest;
and finally those struggling sun-rays
broke through to warm my forehead quickly:
so glad to have seen, with awe and curiousity, 
the forest's beautiful and swift creatures
storing away food for those gloomy winter's days!...
Oh, how happy I felt to have been the wanderer of the forest! 

Details | Narrative | |

pilgrim poem

it starts out full of determination, 
crusading with vision and vigor
a strong staff, new boots, and a good hat.
a map with direction and no mud stains

walking with purpose in mid-afternoon
the clouds in the distance poignantly
seem to illustrate some medieval tome
with guilt edges to pages and sunrays

the poem feels good, and the thoughts
feel strong and direct, not tangential like
the scribbling’s from some past dreaming’s
and foot in front of foot, we cover ground

dust gently, almost imperceptibly, swirls
around the now broken-in boots, the stanzas
march to their own steady cadence until they
begin to slow, as the heat bares down more,
now thickening the tongue, with a newfound
thirst for words and water

the mind...the mind, and it's steps, falter
just a bit, as concentration is baked with
aimless uncertainty, the hat feels heavy
to the pilgrim, and the notion of continuing
seems pocketed, in favor of some poetic shade

poem's purpose muted, for just a line or two, 
no more, to rest beside the road of travelers
lines passing by, waving or nodding a word
in the pilgrim's direction as they pass

and the writing looks off in the distance
and down to short stanzas, covering tanned legs
leaned with the effort of the pilgrimage
mind circles as the hat is waved like a fan
to cool the thoughts into some coalescence

refreshing the whole body of work with purpose
strength begins to build again as breaths slow
with resolve and triumph appears as achievable
the pilgrim rises again, dusts off his derriere
and marches...hell, parades to a poetic end

© Goode Guy 2012-01-26

Details | Rhyme royal | |

The Orange Rhyme Challenge

Thusly, as per Good Sir John's contest prize contest, I humbly submit the 

Dear Sir John,of your poetic rhyme request,
I will now do my very best;
Sir John's  Poetry rhyme request,
Though some may consider it rather strange,
And, perhaps, to some, a mighty challenge,
I think I might be able to arrange,
With a pilgrimage to mystic Stonehenge,
Where I may, in fact, rearrange...

those lenticular aspects of your family flange,
And, though the poetic quality may appear...
Somewhat mensa- menge',
I trust you'll find my work of acceptable range.

Once again, Good Sir King John the First,
Congratulations on a job well done!!

Your humble serf servant, tom bell.

Details | Haiku | |


rainmakers rattle
in the hot summer sunshine~
crows cavort in the corn

Details | Blank verse | |

A Declaration of respect

Knowingly or unknowingly,
Lawfully or unlawfully,
When a person commits crime,
His soul has no taste of blood,

He seeks mercy to repent,
From his forcible power,
That was hidden inside his mind,
He seeks salvation forever.

But when another cruel power,
Serves forcibly punishment for him,
Then his soul reminds him a criminal,
An innocent blames him a killer.

Actually circumstances are very powerful,
Opportunist always picks innocents,
Those have painful poverty to curse,
Intelligent people teach them a lesson.

A lesson of crime is unlawful achievement,
A poor can lost his way because 
He is poor but he is also innocent,
But professional was never declared criminal.

They are enjoying their lives peacefully,
They are high ranked in society,
Their dignity and honour has a place,
They managed crime but aren’t punished.

Innocents kill innocents when a criminal,
Dies in the eyes of Law, system was shaken,
And struggles itself that is seeking change,
Who shall remove these masks from justice?

Over the centuries had passed away,
Who has learning from innocent deaths?
Only innocents were born to wear pain,
But a master mind is always well-respected.

Professionals has their class for protection,
Where they care for eachother to hide crime,
They honour eachother for a declaration of respect,
That’s why law and system has innocent death.

Details | Free verse | |

Nonsense Answered

~This poem is a response to the questions asked in the book "The Book of Questions" (Poems I, II and III) by Pablo Neruda.~

The airplanes fly solo,
ashamed of their pasts; those who know
of their young propeller days.
The sunny bird,
with warmth is lured
those with bags of lemons from their ways.
No one can make the gun,
that harnesses the sun
to give to helicopters; they grow unwise.
In the lake shines a great bright light,
a reflection in the night,
and in that sight you will find her prize.
Ask Big Ben, who's always visible through rains
or the sun who dictates change,
you'll never find time through flesh.
The leaves, so green,
from trees so keen
on the birth of many strong souls; fresh.
In the mind,
you hid the blind,
without worry of bees.
We will use red then,
anger works just as well as delight in the kin
for bread to eat with teas.
The rose petals swell,
outside the budding shell,
having nothing to hide.
The wise old tree knows
it is better to hide than show
it's roots; knowledge makes them wide.
The silent screams,
the unknown rings,
reveal the automobile's frame.
The train so rusted,
the train so crusted,
I will never forget it's pain.

Details | I do not know? | |


She swims the salty seas
Crashing into the surface through leaves
Taking Captain Ahab down with her as he heaves

Destroying her predators ships along the way
He will no longer be found in Norway
She’s moving on to a less crowded bay

Details | Rhyme | |


Life can be an awesome adventure for the one who dares;
shouldn't it also be for those in love,
who leave their dreamy hearts in a blossoming grove,
and will it, in definite time, turn into dreams?
Seek yours in forbidden realms,
let it come in form of fantasy...
await the blissful joy of a discover at sea,
or that one that mounts hide on their peaks!

Sail away as Columbus and Cabot did by reciting Hail Mary,
have faith by proving it to yourself, but ignore derisive laughs;
your ship will have you as captain and nobody else,
don't lose your way among crashing waves that make you afraid.
Remember your ambition when you left shore for glory...
don't let doubt discourage you from achieving what you planned!

My aspiration is to be an accomplished writer,
and starting off this adventure, I will use ample imagination;
madness some will say...weren't the explorers' minds driven by conviction?
Follow me and I'll prove them wrong: unearth my literary treasure!

Details | Couplet | |

Homeboy Clown (Conclusion)

Every smile has a frown
In the life of a clown

We all hide behind painted faces

Our mind is our cell
Our own state of hell

Dreaming of far away places

We keep dreaming of free
Something we’ll never be

As our hopes drown in our fears

Our number is our name
Our life is our shame

Distorted by all of our tears

The years turn us cold
Over hearts we can’t hold

Our love is replaced by our hate

There is just one conclusion
It is all but an illusion

Because we create our own fate
We all hide behind painted faces
Dreaming of far away places

As our hopes drown in our fears
Distorted by all of our tears

Our love is replaced by hate
Because we create our own fate

Just a ghost inside a "Homeboy Clown"

Created for Michael's Contest

The conclusion is basically a rhyming Couplet
that has a non-rhyming conclusion at the
end of each stanza. At the end of the poem
the non rhyming conclusions must form their 
own rhyming couplet stanzas with a non rhyming 
conclusion that refers to the title. Note: The Couplets
in the first part of the poem must be even
numbered as to form a perfect couplet in
the second half. 

The "Conclusion was invented by Michael Jordan
On 2/6/09

This was quite the adventure Michael

Details | Free verse | |

I, Poet

Heap humor upon the scholars
Philosophers and thinkers alike
For, "-Ologies or -tists” to ending of names
Do not facts of science make

A place must needs be 
Where emotions may eclipse
To experience adventures of love 
Delve into fantasy, breakout and escape 

Then, might I suggest to be led away...
By thrill of poeteer
And his penned verse escapades

Swashbuckling gay through history's pages
Living on life's raw edge commotion
Into passions inner darkness 
When heartbreak questions every sense

And word's musical essence lingers on 
Amidst, what some shall christen
The wild and untamed spirits
But, this is where beheld and captive
Are those ageless forever notions

Where sonnets were early birthed
From simplicity within a complex existence
Onto ancient stone walls, tablets chipped
To books from scrolls
Across the ages, sailing out on poems ship

Breathing in new life 
Unto once withered words
The ones that merely give 
The heart and mind 
Its many reasons to exist 

Details | Light Poetry | |


This is the man that I am

No need for a detective because I have few mysteries

Whatever you don’t find its trapped somewhere inside my mind

I put my life into words for the whole world to read

I hope you enjoy what you see

A South Korean English teacher by night

An avid writer by day

A helpless romantic somewhere in between

The smile and joy from my students is priceless

Seeing someone enjoy my writings is pretty rewarding as well

I feel that everything in my life is finally going well

From my writings you may find that hard to tell

Sorry I don’t write more fantasies or fables

To convey happy emotions and attract more followers

You are getting my life through my eyes

I don’t have a sweet tooth so I don’t sugarcoat things

I write what I have seen and how it has effected me

My adventures and journeys have been vast

Come with me on this ride

Together we can both be pleasantly surprised

With what I will write

This is the the man that I am

Find more of my writings and poems at

Details | Free verse | |


eyes closed 
I blow 
emptying my heart..
The sad bubble rises 
carrying my woes

Details | I do not know? | |

Quiz Clue, re. No. 9, for you

Breaking up ain't hard to do.  Thank you Neil Sedaka!

Details | I do not know? | |

Years later.

As Distant finds himself :
The early morning mist fills the air 
   the birds have flown off as the others run in fear
      as calm settles not a sound is heard (breathing.)
           no leafs moving no bushes trembling "SNAP!
              Distant "I hear you...I can smell your breath..."
                  with a grin and a shack of the beast head he appears,
The great white tiger Life:
Step by step out walks Life looking amused
   "hows this you the great one sneaking up on me"
       no,no,no he nods his head "just watching...listening"
             Distant "do you wait for what sleep... or forget..."
                 with a chuckle Life moves closer to Distant as he raises up
                       "now,now little one" Life speaks," no need to fear,
Distant show a grin of his own:
The bangle tiger tilts his head to the right
   "little...its been years and the best I get is little
        he sits even turning away from Life "as for fear.." 
            never once looking the great one in the eyes "no..."
                 "fear is no longer a factor in this game...nor is...
                      ...running"he looks back to the beast raising his ears,
Life holds up takes a step back:
"It has been a while hasn't it?"as he looks over Distant 
   "no gripping paws sweaty brawl not even your tempered growl"
          "it has been awhile I can tell by the way you smile" Life says 
               his shoulders move him forward as his paws crush all that stand in his way
                     Distant stands strong looking over the beast ready for another
                          with a grin he stops "I just want you to know...I'm near,

A page from Tigers in my eyes.

Details | Rhyme | |

Super Quiz Clue No. 4

It's sensual in beauty, covets both sunshine, and rain.  Elegent in structure, now 
is the time for your quiz smarts to reign.  Good Luck!!

Details | I do not know? | |

A Knight's Hunt

A magic knight coursing on in brilliance

On lean hack in clanging, cleaving aegis,

Crunching incantation-dark, blunt, and grunt.

So light illumines his cold, whiskered phiz

And it predates the warrior in night hunt.

Chase is stashed by shade then stir lulls to prance

When periphery is gorged by a mist.

Pitches of bolts burst ahead ere a miss.

Startle angers his shield of sparks in haste;

Shots hotfoot through with explosions, vanish.

Details | Sestina | |


Inspiration sparks when
a shooting star crosses
the starry, twinkling Heavens,
revealing its gradeur, beauty and sadness;
and if we follow it to its destination...
where it will finally land.

Inspiration sparks when it is stirred up by a sudden impulse,
and to miss to lose another literary gem to outlast the ages,
that's why I constantly glance and run after one faster than a horse...
when it is about to take off with impetuous speed;
just chasing that luminous trail vanishing in distance...
fills one's heart with an incomparable feeling indeed.

Inspiration sparks when
we allow thoughts of serenity
enter the occupied mind burdened by a plan,
not letting it aimlessly wander somewhere else;
and its search might be long or terse,
to rise above those ideas too ordinary.

Inspiration sparks when
the least we expect it, to bewilder us;
transforming our silence into a powerful voice,
louder than the roar of an airplane,
of the thundering sound of a volcano in eruption...
making many tremble without waging war. 

Copyright 2010 by Andrew Crisci

Details | Light Poetry | |

' The Greatest Poet Of All ... '

God … Is The Greatest Poet of All
God … Is The Greatest Poet
God, Speaks … And Leaves Us In Awe
… Astounded and Author-Devoted ! …

Yea … We are Humbled and Thunderstruck
and Sublimely Mesmerized
on His Sacred Utterances … We Have Drunk
like Raindrops of Soft-Mercy-Cries …

… While Angels, Sing in Quicksilver-Skies
Even His Son, is Called:  ‘ The Word ’ and Wise          ( John 1: 1 )
and Every Will and Syllable, and Vowel, Which Rise
… Begins, with Wondrous Words, ‘ He ’ Vocalized

And His Words, Are Strict-Forms and Bright-Joy-Colors
or Sometimes, Warnings in Stark Black and White
Yet … Articulated in Glorious Auras
from He, Who Called, The Darkness … Night               ( Gen. 1: 5 )

from ‘ He ’, Who Said:  ‘ Let There Be Light ’               ( Gen. 1: 3 )
‘ He ’, Who Orated, Birds in Sun-Flight
‘ He ’, Who Orated Sounds, So Right
Spoke Words, Worthy of ‘The Copywrite’ …

… Like, ‘ Let Us Make Man In Our Image ’ …                ( Gen. 1: 26 )
… and Humans, have been Echoing, Ever Since
For His Words Are More Than Vintage
They Are Epitome of Love and Law-Sentence

… Yea … We Emerged from God’s Epiphany
We Should Recite, What He Spoke First
in Such Beauteous, Lilting-Poetry …
… God, Spoke Forth ‘ The Universe ’ ! …                      ( Gen. 1: 1 )

… Called, The Dry Land, Earth                                    ( Gen. 1: 10 )
Called, The Waters … Seas                                         ( Gen. 1: 10 )
Pronounced Eve, Mother of Birth                                 ( Gen. 3: 16 )
(tho’ She Stole at Speech-Trees)                                ( Gen. 3: 6, 13 )

Yea … God Called Forth, Flashes and Flowers
and The Breath of Life and Swarms of Honey-Bees
And with Dynamic, Inspiration Power ! …
God … Even Called Forth … me

… and You, and You, and Your Voice Too !          ( John 3: 16  & John 10: 16 )
And Refreshing-Dew and Dawns, Brand-New
And The Rare-Edition – Chosen Few                   ( Matt. 7: 14  & Matt. 22: 14 )
… Each Bound-Volume, Ringing, Amen-True !      ( Rev. 14: 5 )

Yea … God, Is The Greatest Poet of Them All !
So, Let Us Catch Each Poem-Pearl, in Free-Fall
and Collect Them and Gather Graciously, as They Call
to Conjugate and Climb O’er, Deaf-Mute-Stanza Walls

… to Applaud, The Greatest Poet, Ever and All …

Details | ABC | |

that night

I walked in the house.
you were on the couch.
the whole family was there.
you said to me i was not good enough for you.
i said what are you talking about?
he said i dont love you anymore your just not good enough.
so i left the room crying.
then it was all a blanck.

Details | Rhyme | |

Collaborator Wanted

At the moment, I’m looking for a collaborator who will help me write something with the bite of an alligator. Tracie, our “Indigo Dreamweaver “ sponsors a contest right now. I would like to submit a poem somehow. With writing, I know many of you are quite able. Just write something good and put it on the table. We will get fifty points each for this caper. Just write down something impressive on paper. We may get two hundred and fifty points each if we win. Let’s get together as soon as possible and begin. I’m serious!

Details | I do not know? | |

The Sorcerer and the Stone

Dry tangle of strands like leaves of a pine.
Neck-long sable yet lemon to close a beaming line.

Decked by two sharp wan visage processes.
Shut some-screened eyes and jaw- high and breadthless.

Dangling armor is woven garb of chains.
Bony hands impose his thin scrawny mien.

Spread them down to ignite an incipient
Of electric qeues like sunspot lightning

Toward a floating smooth stone before him.
Struck bouy makes a devious glow as his grin.

Growing fulgence throbbing to explosion
in lieu he is sucked like dusts by the stone.

Details | Haiku | |

unbreaking flanks

they cry heavens light
                            for the sun has lost it's sight
untile the moon shines

Details | Tetractys | |

I'm Confident

when we
cannot put
trust in persons
promises without
previously assenting
to or believing in that persons
claim to have such confidence in thy self

Feel The Faith

Details | Light Poetry | |


some say this  and that
the turth is like a rat
cool like a cat
so they let it out
no doudt
its none stop
guess that 

Details | Rhyme | |


I had the traits of a gorgeous child,
different in looks and behavior,
only mother understood his tremor...
when night fell and he ran inside.

An adorable child expressing curiosity,
touching everything in his path,
and those hands seemed full of creativity...
when visions lured his interest.

I hold this photograph to reminisce the grace
of that tiny toddler beginning his first, memorable race... 
while his mom stretched her protective and loving arms, 
ready to hug him and reward him with tons of smiles. 

I had the traits of a gorgeous child,
obsorbing the vivid images and colors of the seasonal scenes...
I'd describe in my writings, to feel the essence of unreal dreams;
Oh, was I aware of my final stride?

Details | Verse | |

Turmoil of a sleepless night

Turmoil Of A Sleepless Night

The days are tiring I feel but the night will set me free, 
I fall on my bed unfold my legs and again you haunt me! 
It’s the end of the month I thought you would speak, 
But you didn’t, so my pen, your might I must seek! 
I lie on my bed my mind so full of thoughts, 
I try to avoid as I remember the words of Frost, 
But futile it runs because he spoke in happy verses, 
And my heart bleeds in tears - serving as curses! 
Your sweet smiling face haunts me here, 
I am sleepless, you must be sleeping, I wonder! 
The lights have been put off, its devilish dark around, 
and my life with my dead hopes mewling on the ground! 
My eyes are shut but I see you stand, 
Between your hands you hold my hand, 
And pressing my little finger again you repeat ‘great’, 
Your eyes were the same I inhaled a sighful breath! 
You were happy-happy as earlier, 
We were together and between us no barrier, 
again you talked and smiled like before, 
We talked and we read and again talked more! 
Just when my life was back like a ray of sunbeam, 
My sleep broke and found out it was just another dream, 
and again the struggle is starting inside my mind, 
I wish I had no dream-I wish I were blind! 
And so I sit writing this when my mind is at a civil fight, 
to find little fragments of peace in this sleepless night! 
Saket Suman

Details | Free verse | |

Past, Present, and Future Forever

Stick to the pen, not to the sword
this is the oath, long ago sworn
by the writers, who became the ignitors
of the free thinkers revolution

Now that I'm a soldier
don't cry on my shoulder
for I know its never right
I'm like you, imprisoned
in this War of Attrition
we are the seekers of the light

Wrongness is winning
in this, the beginning
jaded as it seems 
the hope has not faded
for someday we'll make it
grow as a beanstalk from a seed

Yes this tiny hope, forever shall float
the same way it has carried me thus
through the street of desire
fly over the liars
and the evil that swallows them up

I'll stick to the pen, like my old dearest friend
as tyrants cut us down with their blade
I shall get back up, and come back with such
fury as ink fills the page
exposing the lies, I shall have mine
for the pen is almighty, and forever in time

Details | Etheree | |


let me 
be precise~
I am the chief!
Your every wish
now lies within my grasp.
There will be no gradual
lessening of your temptation.
But feel free to keep this thought in mind~
I would never abandon you cheaply!

Details | Free verse | |


Turn around.. twist.. skip.. jump up .. jump down.. stand on one foot.. hop left..  hop 
right.. ok..  blink.. dance.. wave and nod...
Reuben you are out.. yes out.. you know you are out.. you nodded.. I know I said 
nod.. but you weren't supposed to nod..
Alright.. is everybody ready.. turn around three times then spit.. yes I said 
spit..clap.. raise your hands in the air and clap..
David you're out too.. you clapped.. even if you didn't mean to you did clap.. you 
raised your hands right up in the air and clapped..
It's hot out here..holler if you're hot.. sit down..  stand up..  run in place.. hold 
hands.. take three steps forward..
Tyler and Tana  both of you are out.. I saw you both stepping.. stepping gets most 
people so don't be ashamed.. yep you stepped..
It's time to pick up the pace now yawl..laugh.. sing.. shout..  skip.. look up..  look 
down.. put your hands in the air.. pull your ear.. pick your nose.. let your left eye 
open.. then close..
Oh NO!  Kirstin .. I saw your eye.. it closed..  then opened.. then closed.. bad as I 
hate to say it.. you are out.. Lizzy don't look so smug.. your eye winked and blinked 
and rolled around.. see .. there it goes again.. that sad little eye rolling in your 
head.. you're still out..  
Now we are ready.. I am ready for fun.. every body stretch.. stretch left.. reach.. 
reach and stretch right.. lift your left knee up.. squat.. kick.. Dance..  dance..  dance..
Silly's  no wonder no one danced.. Sometimes I almost catch myself being 
silly.. what I should have said was.. Simon Says Dance!

Details | Free verse | |


I am but an ordinary woman resting in my easy chair after a long day of work.
However I am about to transform myself into a great explorer. 
I travel through the many realms of space and time all from the safety of home.
My journeys cost me nothing but time spent in their enjoyment. 
I close my eyes tightly to contemplate whom I shall visit this night. 
Shall I sup with King Arthur and the knights of the table round as bards entertain,
Or feast on nectar and ambrosia with Zeus and Hera on Mount Olympus?
I could feel the angst of Cyrano’s unconfessed love for Lady Roxanne,
Or that of souls from Poe’s pen with his mocking raven quote it “nevermore.”
Choose to learn the life cycle of the bee, lion, or bear through a scientific work,
Or fly through space on a star ship with the creator of a masterpiece of science fiction.
I can recapture the whimsy of childhood while chasing cars with Clifford the big red dog,
Or take a brisk run with Pooh and Tigger through the hundred-acre wood. 
I may celebrate glorious new beginnings with Mother Mary and Baby Jesus, 
This holy birth portrayed forever within our sacred Bible.
I might also choose to contemplate death along with Caesar during his last moments.
Only the playwright Shakespeare could portray these with such tragic effect.
I may discover the secrets of gourmet recipes from master chefs,
Or learn how to sew a patchwork quilt of old fashion.
Vicariously visit the culture and religion of various peoples, 
Or study the history of my fellow Americans.
Maybe I should check the financial reports to see how the stock market is doing,
Or it might be pertinent to examine the latest advances in law.
Let me discover the origins of favorite words in a volume of etymology, 
Or distinguish quartz from quartzite whilst leafing through a book of gemology.
Books, yes volumes hold the secret keys to my voyage,
It is they that conduct me each night worldwide exploring.
I need not to plan ahead pack luggage or gather tickets,
Fore when I wish to escape this world a book is always close at hand.
I may travel safe and undisturbed through numerous times and places,
And leap out of one adventure headlong into the next without moving a limb.
When I am weary from the road or have chased enough beasts as warier fine,
I simply mark my place, fold the pages together gently, and retire to sweet sleep.

Details | Alliteration | |


Ok I have never heard of alliterations…….. And was wondering if words like 
abbey, acme, and acne would go along with alliterations …  and just maybe the 
meaty mossy messy mold at the mucky muddy murky waters of the slightly 
slippery sloppy backwaters were on the right track of this choicely choosy classy 
way of expressing earthlings eating elephants in the early evening with a 
beautiful sunset easily edging ending a really nice time and how do they all 
come together and not torture the toddler that is tougher than the trader tracking 
the tractor up the tower with the trainer  trotting with the trooper right behind 
looking for the treasure and the traitor trekking with the trucker loosing his 
trousers while trolling in the backwater. , I thought even if it isn't it is different.

Details | Free verse | |


kaleidoscope of kindnesses
rain down upon my back..
knitted hats and knots untied
for those you have a knack...
karma chose you for me
to bounce upon your knee
just another kid at heart
is what I seem to be
kettles boil and time will keep
until the kite has flown
for knights like you are hard to find
once the kindest years are gone
knowledge isn't always friend
in fact..  sometimes is foe
but you my friend are the best of kings
a peasant girl could know
kisses melt the coldest heart
like candy in the palm
but keepers come but once along
to the weary heart a balm
now knobs and knives and fishing things
we pack into a sack
and hand in hand we walk along
ahead.. we don't look back..

Details | Free verse | |

Mea Culpa, Extol Belles-Lettres

The Jackal's line of demarcation ye souls' furlough for interim...
Today, cockcrows perturb in a gala thrice for thee quiescent stay,
God's Park of Ephemera, sashays the daggled the minder harks,
a chest not in to rest, of dais edicts, cudgels so contagious; 
haughty wheels peddle rashly between two havocked hearts,
foisting wintry fobs of progeny pleating to let pigeons exeunt,
if bedlam trotting by pothers ye, the cob, yet calmly sings, 
"Fare-thee-well, Oh snowflake in dwindle, hallow me next spring,
via crepuscules, cleaved like vacant aulas crescendo conveyance,
wholly abutting city lights, this chimney calling cannot sight!"
Jolly pedestrians twinge at our capitol! Touring a mindful chance,
Ample of verve, knowing mortuary amblers must get their fight!
"Fountains, thawing ye? Janitor, what does the blind really see?"
tryst squelch time, squirm squander squalors n' ante antiquated feet,
Jocund or beh£s belief! Ye! Behind bellicose belletrists by beggars!
When baubles full-fledged, hast consummated thee to hobnob no more,
jongleur sloshed anchors on mimes bare laid laic stoolie, loupe aims,
Headmost, request lasting breaths above broadcasting fortune n' fame,
Then fated fires the Sniper jostles from home to goad n' prod,
Ye kindred stanchion and I, skimmed, the sunset even with me...

Details | ABC | |

Words, Master of

This dark light 
A war outbreak
I cannot write 
There is a leak

Inside my mind
A lively death
I cannot find 
The words are Myth

Where are the words
I call them, they hide
Summoning their accord
They bow and abide

Like vipers they strike
My servants, letters
Turn on me and attack
They disable the better 

Oh, how they used to follow
Me the creator, Father
Their leader now hallow
Creates no bother

So now the letters are left
In the ink, a Tomb
The new master, the same man
Is as dark as a bomb

They cry, the letters
Wanting a world, to be fed
To get by, to be better
Not to be in the tomb, Dead

The master cries out at night
For the comfort of the words
A great inner fight
Bitter as gourds

He can’t hold back
He creates a masterpiece
The words flow from his hands
They cannot cease

The Man is reborn
The Master of words
A light on darkness
The letters abide, they bow

Details | Burlesque | |

to my pals

try "confused poetic travel,1,2,3," some of my better humor- chech with poetry 
forms...well at least I think it's funny.

Details | Free verse | |

Short Stories....



                         Deeply personal....

Details | Bio | |

Back When

M y brother turned his back to a flaming sky

said, "If ya seen one sunset you seen em all."

I was slowly losing my tiny empire

It was so upsetting to watch it fall

Every night before we'd go to bed

My brother would read from, "The Lord of the Rings"

"We only see shadows", my momma said

We'd light up a joint while she threw the I'Ching

And when she read it, we were all ears

"The superior man always perceivers

In the morning, we'd fire up Mother, and hit the road

I was " Two Toke Tito" back then

The toe headed stoner bandito back when..

Mom threw the TV out the window

when they pretended to land on the moon

I made up my very own language back then

Had my first magic mushroom sandwich back when

They killed those kids at Kent State

and Abbie tried to levitate the Pentagon

"Mother" was our psychedelic house on wheels

We headed south to land with a little more sun

Back then there were Gypsies in Mexico

the locals would gather and wait for the show

Momma told them that we were just hippies and there wouldn't be one

Our cat, "Hash" ran away down in Navidad

at least it was a place where he would never lack something to eat

The darnedest cat that we ever had

He loved to smoke dope and he was never bothered by the heat

We always wanted just one more year

in the tropical mountains where the air was so clear

and the mornings were cool enough to see our breath

We tried at the border for another year

when they turned us away it felt an awful lot like death

That was back then..

Back when Timmy O leary had something a lot cleaner than meth

Now thirty eight years have come and gone

My oldest brother's republican and momma passed on

My real dad did too, but I didn't know him anyway

Now I'm a blue collar stiff fighting to survive

I swore that the system wouldn't take me alive

It makes me feel like dying sometimes, That's all I've got to say

I still remember when

My brother turned his back on a flaming sky

and said, "If ya seen one sunset ya seen em all."

Details | I do not know? | |

Creative Bandages

Be your own explorer and see for yourself. 
There's lessons in all the world. 
In each blade of grass, and each flower petal. 
Flying off the tail of your coat, 
Hiding creative bandages. 
Papers full of words of life. 
Packing out your dingy jacket.
And money is no object. 
Life is so short and is so briefly lived. 
That your out for living, trying to help,
And dying in the end. 
Because your dreams were larger 
Than yourself or even others. 
You tried to save the world. 
But it's flying off the tail of your coat. 
As your riding into the sunset, 
Hiding creative bandages.
Like papers floating in the sea. 
You sail away. As your journey lives on. 
On to the next person who needs our help. 
On to the next person who's soul is gone. 
Love is like the open ocean. 
Your a drop of water in it's hand. 
But someday, your journey, will end. 
You'll find some sort of resolution. 
Maybe, a pen in your hand. 
And finally, return home. 
You'll Leave the world, 
Flying off the tail of your coat. 
Hiding creative bandages. 
That you've kept threw land and sea. 
You've learned so much, throughout the years. 
So drop it out into the world. 
Your collection of creative bandages. 
You'll show for all of them to see. 
So Your journey may be said and done. 
But you'll always have your dreams. 
And those creative bandages. 
That you pray will save the world.

Details | Light Poetry | |

' Light Years, Away '

Far-Away … Light Years Away …
How Appropriate, It Is, We Say …
Light Years Away … Words To Measure
The Great Distance to Explore Celestial Treasure

… For He is Light Years, Away From Us
… yet … Closer … than The Lightest Touch
Closer … than The Merest Whisper
Closer … than even Lovers, Can Venture

and yet … Light Years Away … from Man’s Technology
Light Years Away … in Telepathy
Light Years … of Surpassing Intelligence
Those Light Years Away … should Inspire Reverence

… in Wisdom … He is So, Far, Advanced
We, Will Never Reach … His Zooming Stature or Glance
Beyond, What He Has To Show
Look Back at Him ? … ‘Please !’ … Keep Learning To Go …

… Light Years Away … Oh, Joyous Mystery!
Light Years … of His Supreme Love and Gracious Majesty
and Divine Dignity and Glory and His Excellency … All Light Years Away
so … Up … Up … and Away … that’s how Real Superheroes Pray

… and that’s how We Travel, Light Years Away … Day by Day by Day

Details | I do not know? | |

We Have A Winner!!

Yes, indeed, Mr. John Heck is the winner with his answer-"Tulips"; His reasoning 
is as follows...Keyboard humor; a somewhat off color joke I've heard, and 
apparently, so has John, which goes: What's better than roses on your piano?  
Tulips on your organ.  I hope no one is offended, none intended.  If so, please 
accept my apolology.  (And, I would believe, John's, should anyone feel that 
necessary...which they should not.)  The next clue; Namesakes come in pairs; 
Two Lips.  Third; "I sound like a part of you"; Lips.  Fourth;  Sweet to the senses; 
Tulips...(I would add, they are visually, as well as aromatically.)  Fifth;  
Sometimes I stretch out, and make others howl; John's answer here; Tulip 
pedals stretch out.  (actually, in this clue, I was alluding to when a person yawns 
and their lips spread out, and how it makes other people yawn somehow.  
(Another Mystery of Nature!)  Sixth; Thumbs in Dikes; His comment; Tulips are 
flowers that are in abundance in Holland (Netherlands).  This is on target, yet I 
would add, think of the children's story about the little boy who stuck his thumb in 
the leak in the dike, to save the village.

In any event, Mr. John Heck is our Winner!!!!  Congratulations!!!  Please, everyone 
note, henchforth, Mr. Heck shall be referred to as, "His Majesty, King John the 

Well, Your Majesty, Good Sir King John the First, you may request a custom 
poem based on any one word.

Recap to date; Contest Quiz Part No. One- Make a six line poem incorporating 
the following 6 words, or phrases;"Waffle", "Roller Skate", "Latex Paint", "Bench 
Press", "Coal Bin", "Police Siren". Opening day worth-10 Points, less 1 each day 
after, and humorous poems from above can earn up to 10 Bonus Points max.  

His response;

"The Ballad Of Tom Bell" (Sung to the tune of Rogers and Hammerstein's "My 
Favorite Things.."

"A bench press, a coal bin, a Six Story Waffle???
Structures that Tom made with glue and falafel!
Rollerskates dipped in Latex semi-gloss paints?
A police siren was heard to place him in restaints!

Baked beans and burgers, drank with something that fizzes,
Frantically typing his weekly pop quizzes!
His Mother Goose characters "ARE" tied up with strings,
The fun anecdotes Tom Bell's poetry sings.

Tom has dog bites!

Suffered bee stings!

He is going mad!

(And seeing things!)?

So look at this bloke
and think of yourself,
and I'm sure you won't feel

Details | Tail-rhyme | |

Casandra Riggs

Designed as a secret sister,
Hiding in form of a blister,
Not at all real
Becoming a pseudonym name,
Writing in stylish poet game,
Words that feel,

Caught notions of reality,
Conscious of false ability,
She remained,
Not meaning no harm or deceit,
She faded into death complete.
Truth explained.

a double Tail Ryhme poem,,,some of you may or may not know of this person,she is me and 
i am her,,she was created when I first started on the net,afarid of placing my real 
name,because of all the stories of identity theft,,though since I seen names like rosebud, 
stargazer, bunny flower,,I seen no harm,,,,I did not know that names can become somewhat 
real on the net ,,,when she become known by a few and a life was needed, I retired her 
name,,though she still has poetry listed on the net at some places,those words are mine.
She is totally ficticious,true though I learned so many things about poetry and life.

Details | Cowboy | |

Dear Charlie

I have thought of you often, found some paper tucked away,
I’m feeling sentimental and have some time today,
So with pen in hand I thought I would write a line or two,
Though I don’t know where your at or if this letter will get through.

Well the wire is now strung and the cowboys are fenced in,
The Indians that rode beside you will never be again. 
The long horns their now mulies a horn not a one,
I guess the wild west days have come and gone.

But Charlie I think you know there is a die hard breed.
There are still some out there that live the cowboy creed.
I know it’s not exactly the same as when you rode so bold,
But Charlie I wanted you to know that not all the saddles are sold.
For they wake each morning to the rising sun,
And know at the end of each day their work is still not done.
And they will gather around a fire to hear a yearn or two,
To see who tells the better tale of the things that they do.
And some paint a might good picture too, I have seen them at their best.
I guess there’s still a little wild out here in the west.

We think of you often and dream of a time 
When the range was open and the land was in its prime. 
When long horns ran high ridges and tested cowboy wit,
And even the best of the ponies would still challenge the bit.
So I thought I would write to let you know 
that you are thought of out here in what we do and where we go. 
And there still is hardcore buckaroos who still challenge change,
And they fight for the freedom to ride the range.

Well the fire has burned to embers and the crew is coming in
The quiet moment that I had, is now brought to an end,
So I will stoke the fire, put the coffee on and say goodbye for now,
Hoping you might get this letter some how.
Just remember your not for gotten Charlie and you will live on
And the cowboys and buckaroos are not completely gone.
And when I have more quiet time and paper that I might find,
I promise to write again, rest in peace my dear old friend.

Details | Free verse | |

salt marsh~ (a syntu)

hear the rattle of the clapper rail
buffer of strong seas
grassy refuge of the great egret

Details | Narrative | |

Day Two

Wow! What a day it has been 
Right, left, centre
Ain?t nowhere that I haven?t been 
On a matatu, on a bus, and so much on my foot
Ain?t none I ain?t seen
And at the end of it all it?s my trouser that split
Right in the middle for all to see
Damn, what had me wearing a red pant today?

So, there it was
Day two of my life gone by in so much effort
Still I ain?t found what I am looking for
But I have a hunch I?m closer to the front
For here I am sitting at the corner near the door
The bed was so much nicer, unlike the breakfast
In the reflection of the mirror I see them looking at me
Well, that means I am a little bit different
And so I intend to be
Writing away my life like this
Till time and fate will send me a fat cheque in the envelope of fame

Details | Alliteration | |

Read This Fast!

So we’re going on a picnic with the pygmy, Pixie Poggly, being the quirky queenly 
quaintly quickly person she is and her friend a raunchy rascal reverently named 
Andy Bailey. As you remember he was in the Aussie army association, barely 
battling the banshee that were bawdy blackly bloody in the boggy boundary briefly 
in the outback, and lets not forget pixie’s perky prominent pal that is a bossy, 
bluntly, brainy, bookie, breathing brashly, balmy, bits of boogie bookie chatter to 
all the cheery, choicely, chunky crowd around his choosey, cheesy, cheaply 
choice of chummy spots, and in his coarsely cocky way, he coyly clamors crafty 
creepy words that really don’t say what they needs to say, but confuses even the 
gentle, ghostly, gaudy, gawky, gabby, gypsy genie down in the gaily, gabby, 
ghastly valley town called Gatsby. I hear even Fatty Fannie the fancy, fleecy, 
flimsy, flowery, and foxy maiden that has her doggie, “Dotty” watching her dreamy, 
dressy, downy, dowry. And to make things easier Pixie’s dumpy daffy deafly, dinky 
donkey named Dixie is going to carry all the supplies, and we are going to the 
daffy damply dainty little dairy where the daisies  grow daily in the deeply densely 
droopy grasses next to the hay, and it sounds like it will be a giddy, giggly, goodly, 
goofy, goosey, grabby good grammar in all its Grammy award wining grandeur 
Parts of this poem were copied from another poem that I cannot display here, but 
that I did write, it is called “The Picnic” and I thought this would be some fun 
reading for all here.

Details | Free verse | |

My Song- (Solfège)

Do- Re- Mi-

Do..Dodo flightless bird
fearless of humans; easy prey!
Extinct so long many believe you a myth....

Re master of universe
mirror image of Ra...worshiped
by millions seeking a ray of hope..
a ray of sunshine warming heart and soul...

Mi.. Mi.. ME
Calm me.. breath..deeply breath..
help me.. bless me.. sing my song..
Do - Re- Mi-

Fa- So- La-

Fa away from everything;
everyone I love.. wishing..
dreaming.. desolate..

So- so- Sewing
Grandma's old sewing machine..
bright colors.. tiny stitches..
warm quilts... So- so- Sew!

La- La- La-
Sadness.. Dark.. gloomy..
overwhelmed.. lonely.. Tears..
La-La-La-...LA! LA! LA!

La- Ti- Do-

ti-Ti- piercing.. Heart weary.. 
Ti.. Ti.. Tea!
a hot cup with lemon and honey..
faith....hope.. a ray..

Do- stronger now!
Do- Do- Do what you have to!
find strength.. it's there..deep inside you..
survive! grow! learn! LIVE!!

do- re-mi-fa-so-la-ti-do...
DO- RE- MI- Fa-So- La- ti-  do!

Details | Rhyme | |

You Bet!

You bet!
My Heidie poet friend....
A winning streak, I'm on,
Hot as a $2 pistol...
Sun's rising,
It's dawn....
You join the community,
Of endless talent and love,
A charmed life I'm living,
Experiencing all this warm giving....
So thank you, dear Heide,
Trust I do love you too,
Now it's time for 'ol Tom...
To get back in that Old Lady's shoe!

Details | Haiku | |


deep within her gaze
silent invitations lie~
helplessly I rise

Details | Acrostic | |


Little moments; big ideas; grand schemes and flops!
Intimacies shared; secrets held; pennies saved in a box.
Friends laughing; enemies kept close; bills; brooms and Mops.
Every breath a different thing; a rose; a bird; or an Ox!

Details | Senryu | |

No More Fakes on Stage

why would realistic
politicians hire someone
to fake reality

no more fakes on stage
we want real peolple with real
answers to problems

Details | Acrostic | |


Totally peaceful~ a picnic in the park.
Restful~  relaxing~ fishing~ riverside.
Amazing~ building castles~ at oceans edge.
No strife ~ no stress~ cloud watching.
Quiet and calming~ a  misty midnight walk.
Untroubled ~ unusual~ under the moss draped oaks.
Idyllic ~ impressive~ stars on a black velvet sky.
Longed for~ nature's music~ lovers hand in hand.

Details | I do not know? | |

air transport

To fly without wings
Higher and higher,soar
Above the stormy region
Set on high above the waves,
At the sky,with birds of the air competes

Details | I do not know? | |

Super Quiz No. 2, Clue No. 2

Here we go folks; and, yes, this is a hard one....Any winner, should that unlikely 
event take place, ought to be enshrined in the Mensa Society, and declared a 
puzzle-master, cryptanalyst genius, and be lauded throughout the land....So, don't 
shy away from trying....who knows??....maybe the C.I.A. will hire you at $250,000 
a year, and your fame and name will spread throughout the world!!!  So, come'on 
guys & gals, lets get crack'en.......

Part No. 1) Question; "It might be related to a hungry person eagerly devouring a 
hero sandwich ravenously."
Firtst Clue;   "One might say the sandwich has a hostile attitude to such a would-
be eater.
Today's Clue No. 2;  "It moves between 2 worlds, and its bite is deadly.
Today's Clue No. 3:Lusitania
Today's Clue No. 4: Shark of Steel

Part No. 2)  Question;  "Adults and tots play with its parts.
First Clue;  "Calif. Gold Rush."
Today's Clue No. 2;  "Damn that Zam, he's a wham!!"
Today's Clue No. 3;  Tinker.
Today's Clue N0. 4:  Aqualung breakfast dish

Part No. 3)  Question;  ""It moves from state to state, but uses neither automobile 
nor plane."
First Clue;  "It may allude to something you'd display in your living room."
Today's Clue No. 2;  "Tom Bell's home is well known as a place that it does 
Today's Clue No. 3;  It's nature makes it hard to find, though it is everywhere.
Today's Clue No. 4:  Oscar Meyer's Cleaner

Part No. 4; (Bonus Question);  "If things go ever more poorly,
                                                         And you can no longer find...
                                                         Your confusion award, you may
                                                         find these 2 words on your sword." 
First Clue;  "Sometimes "Pennies From Heaven" have a long wait before the 
drought eases.
Today"s No.2-correct answer to pt. No.3 gives you half answer to this one
Today's clue No. 3;It could rhyme with immigration.
Today's Clue No. 4: Not a word you're likely to hear used.  Noun.  Act of becoming
increasingly unhappy.

Details | Free verse | |

The Diary Journals

This will be a real series of excerpts for civil war diaires fron Jan 1, 1864...mixed 
with my diary journals from 1967-NOW...
there will be no censoring, so tender minds may wish to avoid.....

The first entry is from Jan 1st, 1864;
     A driving rain storm, and this is the first day of a New Year.  I am all alone, and 
have felt very lonesome all day, and hope today is not a sample of the coming or 
future years.  I was so hoping Jerrie---would come out tonight, but the last train 
came and so perished my hopes of his coming tonight.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Challenge Three

fifty words, by Feb third; rhyme using:

pulsar in a can of tuna
Land mine
Snowstorm in August
Short stack
pidgeon coop

Details | I do not know? | |


If you have a deep feeling, inside, write it down.
Don't think about others, what they'll say, you're no clown.
Just pick up some paper, and get your favorite pen;
Then pour out your heart, tell the world what's within.
Now, put it in verses, and make the words rhyme.
My god, your a poet! You'll be remembered through time.

Details | Couplet | |

Tag Sharon Weimer "You are IT"

Sometimes in life it is so clear to see
My friend is as special as she can be

Things happen and we don’t know why
But for my special friend I would die

I started the (YF4L) club just for her
Sometimes I stutter but I never slur

My wife knows that Sharon is special as can be
They’re the only two who calm the beast in me

Be the first admit, I don’t always think right
I’m a true man of God with a Soldier’s plight

The “Man of God” part is all brand new
Sharon I have penned this poem for you

But it’s not just a poem, Sharon it is a tag
Pull yourself a name from the Poetry bag

And then tell that Poet how special they are
From the bag of Poets pull yourself out a star

This is a game that all of us poets used to play
Hopefully we can relight that flame today

Anyone but me Sharon you can write about
Just answer the “Tag” and let your love out

You know I've been here long enough to say.
"Back in the day" we used to play tag, i miss
it a lot - Rules are very simple, I write a poem
for Sharon and tag it. Sharon now can write a
poem to any other poet but me and tag it. Then
they do the same. Lets rock and roll, heart and
soul and see where it may lead. Tag Shar, your it.
Now this is a wide open game, anyone can pick
anyone they wish at any time. The object is to
keep the ball rolling. This used to be a very special
part of our site and I do hope we can relight that
Flame, God Bless you all, MJ

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Tom's Super Quiz Poet's Contest

Okay folks, here we go: Super Quiz Contest; Part One:  First one to accumulate 
25 points total for all parts, wins....
1) Make a 6 line poem incorporating the following 6 words, or phrases" (I will 
provide one bonus word to provide you a bit of choice) . Use  verse libre', rhyme, 
or burlesque, but I'd suggest burlesque, as that form has more value here.- the 
words are "waffle", "roller skate", "Latex semi-gloss paint" "bench press" "coal 
bin" and "police siren" ; 10 points max value.  Humorous poems for above 
(burlesque) can accumulate up to 10 bonus points.  Remember, the poem 
should make some sort of explainable convoluted sense, at least in the crazy 
tom way.
2)Part two; Answer correctly the following riddle/quiz; "I sound like a part of you, 
and I'd never speak of you a'foul...but sometimes I stretch out- and make others 

One clue will be posted each day, starting on the second day- up to 5 clues max.; 
but each day the values decline by 1 point...Contest entries accepted up till 
midnite of Sunday night, Oct 14.  Winner, if any, will be announced following day, 
if prize has not been won already...
May the best man, or woman, win...Based on past results, I'd say watch out for 
Shar-she usually wins these, although this one is tougher than most.  So best 
luck to all.  Winner will be granted a custom poem by me based on any one word 
you choose- name, thing, etc.  I may ask up to 1 1 word clue,if I need, one brief 
question of clarification...
The judge's word is final...(yes, mine!!, being married 2 times, that'll be a new 
And everyone is welcome to comment on other entries, so long as appropriate 
respect and clean language is abided to.
Good Luck!!!!
                                                 tom bell

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Notes, Comments, Tomfoolery, and Clue!

Good evening, all is well.
First of all, let me congratulate all those who commented on the first Poem 
Contest posting I had.  Bear in mind, as Judge and Jury, only I am permitted to 
send messages without words...It was mentioned that this would be a tougher 
quiz...see with me, words are completely optional.  Re. the $160 electrician's bill, 
once, in my old house, I had one come and put a new ceiling light fixture in my 
father's room, and track lights in my room.  His work was awful, fixture was the 
cheapest thing...I had worked in a retail lighting store, and knew he paid about 
$20 for it, the track lights were extremely unsightly, the ceiling was butchered; the 
entire job took no more than 30 minutes, and he handed me an $800 bill!!  Talk 
about highway robbery.
Now a few bits of Tomfoolery, with but a few "Tom's Tidbits".

How can I lose more stuff than I own??
It's a struggle to figure out how to get my cell phone to work.  I wonder if that's 
because I've never been imprisoned.
Talk about hot flashes...I had my first with the above mentioned electrician.
A ringing in the ears is but to be expected by someone named Bell.
Did I mention about the Honda Civic Center??
My "No Words" Poetry form should be posted with the Soup.  What'ch ya' think;
"Tomfooleryesgue??" Any suggestions??
A bachelor like me gets so lazy, if I get hungry, the most I can do is take an olive 
out of the jar...w hands, of course...

Comments;  I wanted to post either "Electric Blanket" or "How to Pay Bills" but the 
Soup won't allow it, cause they're too long, and require two postings...Should they 
count as one?  Or should I just post part No.1, and leave it up to you clever 
people to find pt.2 on your own??  Is this idea acceptable, guys??  Please let me 
know.  The Soup is always busting my chops about using the number symbol.  I 
suppose there is a good reason....gotta find out why...they are like our parents 
here, at least for me.  Just wish they would cook me a meal once in awhile, 
maybe do the laundry or somethin'....

Kindly post your votes on third poem being "Electric Blanket" or "How to Pay Bills" 
which I have just "fine tuned" a bit...let's see how it runs now, or is, like a guitar, a 
thing in need of a tune-up to play.  You can post your votes as comments at this 
posting site, and "write-in Candidates" are accepted gleefully...
Now, up with Clue No. 1 on Super Quiz Poetry Contest. 

Okay, the moment you've been waiting for!!!  Clue No. 1

Details | I do not know? | |

A Path to No Where

 A path, that twists, and turns, and, never ends.
While life stays motionless, but hours still make a silent, repeating, tick.

Details | Ballad | |

' Legendary ... ' ( Part 4 (of) 4)

‘ Legendary …’  ( Part  4 (of) 4 ) 

Now, that the Maiden was Unaided, Quickly, ‘He’ Located, Her Craftily
Beth, was in A Flurry, Too Much in a Hurry to Hear Turning of A Key 
Alas’ … The Happenstance of Harm, at the Bower, twas’ Done Most Foully !
Alas’ … The Happenstance of Alarm, Maid twas’ Undone for Shameful Villainy!

 * * *  The Maid so Afraid, for The Earl Waylaid – Her, to His Infamy
He Ravaged and Damaged The Maid … and Took Her Innocency …

And She, in Her Distress and Mental-Regress and Misery
Sat Horrified-Aloof, Sitting in Soiled Proof, of Her Plundered Chastity
There Could Nay be Gathered, Her Tattered-Wits twere’ Shattered, even for Modesty
As The Earl snidely Chuckled, and Boastingly Buckled His Belt, Smirking Heinously

Yea, The Earl had Sated His Dissipated Lust and Gloated – Gleefully
Went Back to The Masque-Ball and Unmasked and Called and Mocked Maliciously
Impugned Beth, to One and All, of Her Downfall from Grace to Impropriety
The Earl Made Sure … The Stunned Knight Would Overhear, The Indecency …

But Much to The Earl’s Chagrin and also Akin to Cowardice and Incredulity
… The Knight Spoke Nay a Word, Only The Hissing of His Sword, Struck Accordingly
The Last Look, The Earl Saw Was … Rage and The Fraught-Gaze of  Insanity !
Yea, The Knight, Smote The Gloat off The Face of the Vile Earl, Most Deservedly …

* * *

Thence, The Knight, in Their Sight, Became Legend That Night as He Fought Mightily
He Escaped Royal Guards, His Heart was Beating Hard, as He made it to The Bowery
And by the Window, He could see by Melted Tallow, a piece of cloth hung Raggedly
caught Wherefore Beth … had jumped to Her Death … and Lay Below Crookedly …

* * *

Now, Tis’ Sad To Recite … They Hung The Poor Knight,  tis’ Further Travesty
For The Earl, tho’ Highborn, wast’ a Cur to Be Scorned … a Monstrosity !
Alas’ …  and Aghast, the hope of Lovers Together at Last, Turned into Tragedy
Fie’ and Fain, lest’ we Forget, this be A Story and yet… couldst’ be Reality …

Yea, Fie’ and Fain, lest’ We Forget, …  Why The Earl, His End Met … 

                        … This Too Was Vanity …   Eccl. 1: 14

‘ … Sweet Wine On My Lips … Drip In Ecstasy
Sweet Touch On My Hips … Smooth as Warm Honey
Sweet Love of My Soul … Last An Eternity
Sweetheart, Be Thy Bold in Bravery …
… and if Sweet Talk, Be A Token
And Language Be Spoken …
Be Legendary … Be Thou Legendary ! ‘

                               The End

Details | Rhyme | |

Hungry for Words

My eyes are hungry,
like a ravionous beast
To eat the words up
like a tasty treat 

no matter how much i read 
i just dont seem to get enough!
i try to take my time with it...
but my eyes just gobble them up

vampires, westerns, 
romance and more
i read till my eyes blur
or till my head is sore

the hours fly by 
paled and insignificant
but who really cares 
when the world your living in
 is so vastly magnificant

adventures your in, they  never end
with prince charming at your side
or stuck on an island 
because your plane crashed and you almost died

you walk into to a library 
and heave a sigh
 a choice has to be made
but its yours to decide 

Details | I do not know? | |

An Inaudible Encounter

I was minding my own business
When I overheard a conversation
That failed to have words. 
Sounds absurd…but it’s true.
I didn’t know what to do
But understood what was said
At the same time music 
And the mute conversation entering my head,
But the inaudible sounds
And the hands moving up and down
Got me so caught up in the mute dialogue
That I forgot others were around.
So as I come to,
And I reach the train station
I realize that
I live in a gifted nation.
So I got off of the train
And those two were the only ones left
Now that was an amazing encounter
With two people that were deaf.

Details | Acrostic | |

Behind the Wall

Willfully erected..obstructing..
    emotional velocity halted..
Armor.. imprisoning..
    safe and secure.. spiritless..
Layers of pain.. eclipse 
    and enclose..restricting ..
Languish not behind the wall..
    surrender to the magnitude of emotion..
Escape the enchantment of safety..
    passions unleashed.. fireworks erupting
Delight in the wonder of Love..
    thrill to the sensations of life!
    ~ rejoice as the bricks tumble..
    ~ shout as the wall falls....

Details | I do not know? | |

Soup Convention update

Start with intro (Soup Executive)
Poetry readings.
(If on Long Island)- my band will play (Classic rock)
"Roast" on a pre-selected candidate.
Poetry reading/and/or/ discussion.
Gambling(Horse Race game)
Last call cocktails.
Vote and declare
King and Queen Poets for the
I'll provide plaques.

If wanted, we can have the entire event videotaped.
I feel we ought to ackowledge Soup Pesonnel- so
therefore I will get them tokens' of appreiation.
And copies of video will be available to who ever wants 
to purchase.

Come On Folks-We Need at Least 100 People!!!!!!!!  SIGN UP NOW!!!!!
Any suggestions, additions. deletions, comments, please email 
Spouses, girfriends, even hooker's welcome,

Details | Bio | |

Confessions Of A Mad Poet

Who L-ZE??

I so often get so wound up writing poems, I fail to take the proper amount of time 
in reading other's works....for this I am sorry, and I apologize...but the one who 
gets robbed the most is me....I am missing more than half of the joy of being a 
veggie in the soup....I am always bowled over....always.....say, is Poe still a 
member?  (Yea hadda' expect some nonsense from me, right?) the world's 
best group....and thanks for helpin' me get my money's worth from my Dictionary

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Souper-Men/Souper Woman-Convention Idea

I think we should ask the Soup people about this convention-where to have- how 
much each would need to contribute.  This could be a big promotional coup for 
the Soup people-even if they charge us , say $20 per head to attend- and more 
for site...etc...And perhaps I can get my old band together for entertainment- I'd 
even do some of my stand-up and comedy gratis.  and maybe 
vote for a couple of categories of poetry- romantic, humourous-sad-life-loss- 
and "Grand Master Poet"  Please advise me of your thoughts!  Thank you, and 
God bless you all!!        tom bell

Details | Ballad | |

' Legendary ... ' ( Part 3 (of) 4 )

‘ Legendary …’  ( Part  3 (of) 4 ) 

… Now, The Earl, had Spies, to keep Intruding Eyes On The Tryst of Secrecy
Beth’s Tresses, like Raven Wings and Eyes Emerald-Green, Became His Fantasies
Yea, He erstwhile Plotted, for He wast’ Besotted with the Cobbler’s Daughter’s Beauty
All to no Avail … for Beth Knew Well,  Twere’ None, More Wretched, than He !

So, She didst’ Spurn his Declaration and Protestations of Undying Fidelity
She didst’ Return, His Portrait and String of Pearls and His Poems, Peremptorily
Forasmuch, and twas’ this and such, She Rebuffed all His Pleasantries
In Favor of Her Knight, she Reserved This Right, which Enraged, Their Enemy
 - - - - - - -
Now, Twas’ but an Instant, of Insistent Cajoling, that Beth Pleaded Prettily
To Part with Her Swain, til’ Their Hearts Came, to be Joined For Perpetuity
To Compose Herself, for Their Nuptial-Heft, She twould  Prepare Hastily
And Rendezvous for His View, stating … ‘ I  twould’ Look, My Best for Thee!’

And as She left His side, She was Singing Most Merrily …

‘ …  Carry Me in Thine Arms, to Our Beloved Balcony
To a Bed of Blushing-Rose-Petals and Wild-Tossed-Peonies
A Bed Lover’s Designed … Draped in Damask and Brocade -Satiny
And let Moon-Glow, from Yon’ Window, Bathe Us Both Bodily … ‘

… and The Handsomely Styled, Smitten Knight Smiled, as He Heard Her Warm Gaiety …

… Sweet Wine On My Lips … Drip In Ecstasy
Sweet Touch On My Hips … Smooth as Warm Honey
Sweet Love of My Soul … Last An Eternity
Sweetheart, Be Thy Bold in Bravery …
… and if Sweet Talk, Be A Token
And Language Be Spoken …
Be Legendary … Be Thou Legendary !

                                  ( Part 3 (of) 4 )

Details | I do not know? | |


It's the emancipation, new creation, combination time my patient

WELCOME, we'll come, what fun
complete fun under this sun to be done my son

superb sights with great will and shear might shall be made in plain sight on this 
brightest of nights

we may see as we hear with no tremble of fear
these events which unfold to take greatest of tolls

such are wonders to know as we bask in the glow and are swept in the flow of 
this truest of shows

Total wonder and glee at the sights that we see drive wondrous and free as we 
see through the sea

Now be free of conceit and think not of deceit only challenge beliefs as you strive 
to be free

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Soup Convention?

Anyone interested in getting together at a "Soup Convention"- hopefully with Soup 
executives, for a night of fun and reverie?????

Details | ABC | |

the road splits

my road is split trying to go two ways.
one is going toward trying to fit in and being something im not.
the other is going  toward being myself.
ive been caught at the fork and not noing what to do
but ive choosen my path of no turning back
im going the way my heart is leading me
which is not trying to be something im not
going down the road of being myself might be rough 
but im willing to take a chance and being happy

Details | I do not know? | |

Color me blue

Color me blue,
because of the sky.
color me blue,
so i can fly high.
color me blue,
because of the sea.
color me blue,
so i can be free.

Details | Rhyme | |

Mother Goose

Mother Goose, at the bar,
Downing pints and feeling the juice...
Had an urge, and cut one loose...
The fellow next to her fell off his stool
and looked the fool..
Everyone looked at him...
Thinking the misdeed,
Was made by this "dandy Jim"
Got back on his seat,
With a very sore caboose..
Got a whim,
And "goosed" Mother Goose..
Only a fool would antagonize her,
Mother Goose was a woman loose,
For a fool such as he,
she had no use...
And hauled off and decked this clown...
Making him the second man in Twinkle's Bar down...

Details | Free verse | |

Indiana Jones In Search Of The Lost Ruby

Travelling the world,
Seeking the mystical poetess,
No Tomb too dark or scary,
No too evil Nazi so wary...
This Jewel must be returned
To the Soup Treasury....

(add your verse, sil' vous plait!)  Email me @ for me to 

Details | I do not know? | |

Super Quiz No. 2, Clues No. 1

Finally, first clues, sorry for the health related delays;
Part No.1- Original poser; "It might be related to a hungry person eagerly 
devouring a hero sandwich ravenously."
  Today's clue;  "One might say said sandwich has an inbred hostility towards any 
such would-be eater."

Part No.2- "Adults and tots play with it's parts." 
   Today's clue:  "California Gold Rush."

Part No.3-  "It moves from state, but uses neither automobile nor plane."
    Today's clue;  "It may allude to something you'd display in your living room, 
although in a risky place."

Bonus Question-  "If things go ever more poorly,
                                  And you can no longer find,
                                  Your confusion award, You may
                                  find these two words on your sword."

    Today's Clue      "Sometimes "Pennies From Heaven"
                                   have a long wait before the drought

Sorry for the delay, Contest ends, as ammended, in last note.  Good Luck!!

Details | Free verse | |

Confused Poet Two

I was feeling a bit acrostic, and could not hide my dizain from that silly ekphrasis 
skin condition they burned in elegy.  So I sent an epigram to the seismology 
department, where it registered on the epitaph graph.  The ghostly visions of the 
etheree spirits dressed in the latest Fibonacci made me wonder if the ghazal of 
the African plains might have been held up by a Grook, in spite of the heroic 
couplets the gay community presented in support.  I checked the reading on the 
iambic pentameter, even though it made me late for my kimo treatments.  It got 
dark, so I used a lanterne that lay about in McWhirtle's yard, and sure enough, 
nonet, there was the mother ode!!  Ghostly pantoums made me start to believe in 
Parallelismus Membrorum, so I got a ticket for the quatrain engineered by the 
Mexican revolutionary, Pancho Quintella.  But he was busy  rubbing Rengay on 
his sore limbs.

to be continued

Details | Burlesque | |

When the Blues Is Bad News

Oh, yeah, momma.
I got'z de blues today,
Funny thing is,
Why I gotz it, I can't say,
Ain't nobody I'z KNoz,
Who dunn dyed 2day,
Ain't got no nu bills,
What I kant aford te pay,
Empty pochits, 
I dunn be uzed te' dem' now,
I no I'z survive sumhow,
So bak to da bahroom,
for anudder Tanguiry
Mayb pike up my spirutz
What can I say?
Wowry bout tomaro
When dat daze son do shine,
But up intill den, eye ant
Gonea wuwee n i aint gonea wine.

Diz B 4 Shar, smile, god damn it!!

Details | I do not know? | |

Stubborn Ol' No. 9 bonus clue

Some have come close, but you've got to figure ouy all the angles.

Details | Bio | |

Back In the Saddle

Dancin' with the dead,
Becomin' familiar to me...
Missin' my soup pals,
That you can see,

10 days in the ward
Warding off death,
10 days never knowing,
Which might be my last breath,

There is no fear,
Regardless of fate,
It's merely a question,
Sooner or late...

You will join me too...
Somewhere down the road...
We'll write funny poems together,
Hope I don't have to goad...

But now to catch up with my pals,
Sorry for any worry I might have caused,
Glad to be back on line,
With the winners of the world.

Details | I do not know? | |

Comment to the best of Soup's Quiz Wiz's

You have accurately answered your own question at the end of your message; 
No,no, no,

"But keep on tryin'
"Cause I ain't lyin'
When I say you're the best
Solving this sort of test,
No need for cryin'
Or even sighin'
'Cause you are vyin'
For the undenyin'
Master of the Quiz,...

Details | Free verse | |

Confused Poet Three

At Annapolis, Admiral Rictameter had tried to teach us the martial art kick known 
as the Rondeau.  When he became impatient, he tried to rondeau redouble the 
lesson.  That turned out to be a Sapphic Stanza disaster, as we were all listening 
to a Neil Sedoka record.  I was senryu about having spilt the baby Sestina, and 
Sijo, our trained puppy, decided his tail rhymed with what was than-Bauk.  I 
thought the whole thing too triolet, and likely to cause tybuvim, and I did not want 
to be the one who was considered the Villanelle.

Details | Free verse | |

Challenge Two

By Feb one, fifty words or less, using:

Spandex boxer shorts
Listerine soaked Tissue
Lunar craters
Untuned TV
Short Bio
Beef Wellington
Portugese Man'O War

Details | Verse | |

That Plant

The high walls and a closed factory,
Everyday I acrossed,
When I went to town, 
I were alone or with my family,
My eyes always touched its height,
And watched at that plant,
It was grown up in the wall.

Who has planted it? 
And who is feeding it?
I have seen it has a big growth,
I also have seen flowers,
The white flowers and birds,
I have seen them playing together.
At the top, there was no disturbance.

The sun kissed him, every morning,
And evening, a shadow never touched it,
Rain bathed it naked, 
Strong winds never harmed it. 
I never seen afraid around it,
When a person is naked, 
He never afraids and cracks system.

As the top grew plant has strong roots,
Everybody has seen these cracks on wall,
Few months later, the big wall,
It was damaged and falls down.
When a poor is naked,
He feels shame on him, the poverty 
Roots are as strong as a top grew plant. 

Details | Burlesque | |

From Soup to Nuts

Oh, can I run with this one....I better be careful!!!.....

Soup to nuts,
When I spilt the bowl,
You could hear me yell,
From the lower parts of hell,
I screamed "There's a soup
In my fly!!!"
Oh me, oh my.....
Give me first aid,
Before my sperm start to fade,
And if the truth you hide,
I will swear you lied,
Cause the truth is plain,
That your soup did maim,
My manhood right to claim,

I walk out of here,
but it's very clear...
This restaurant you own,
Will soon enough pay your loan,
for damages to me,
Which you'll never see!!

 for Rene', Shar, Rhoda, Jack  Reed,
Christy, Ruby, Laine, Cile, Joe, Karen,
and all the wonderful poets who make "The Soup"
the delicacy, the gourmet mind treat, the spirit
reviver, the place to have fun...the place to BELONG!!!!!
I love you all,- you have greatly enriched my life,
annnnnd spark whatever creativity I can muster...
God Bless........

Details | Bio | |

Just A Note...More Tomfoolery

Yup, did it again...2 am, and I lost 4 or 5 poems...which will have to be redone...I 
will try to wait till tomorrow, as I am exhausted from a stressful day...what am I 
doing wrong???  However, in the past, when this has happened, I find I can not 
go to mind won't let me, so I wind up getting up, and back on line...and 
as so many times too often, greeting the rising sun with weary eyes and weary 
body...and no TV to watch, it's all paid programming, infomercials, and the 
likes...and unlike the classic telemarketers, who'se chain I pull with great 
glee...being overly friendly and asking "dumd" questions ...and baiting them for 
upcoming sarcasm...I LOVE a battle of wits...on my last psychiatric evaluation 
last month, by the time I was done with that "shrink", he needed a psychiatrist!!
Just give me a pompous fool, and in no time at all, I'll deflate their egos and they 
will go home crying...later...

Details | Couplet | |

Dancers on the Mezzanine

Splash fast colors across the sun
red horizon,day is done
swirl a drip of azure blue,
with indigo for me and you

  drip down on my ice cream cone
berry tasty, windy blown
cotton candy wrapped around
cardboard rolled up
by a clown

  Dancing ponies in the dark
tiny bells that catch a spark
from the midnight candles lit
by a child who wouldn't quit

  dancing on the mezzanine
with his older teenage queen
wearing beaded pantaloons
that she wore on afternoons

  in museums cold and still
when she had some time to kill
'ere  she traversed all alone
down that darksome way back home

  so regretful by the sea,
staring out but could not free
any fragment of her soul
ageless,timeless, growing old

  Falling open like a womb
giving birth to wrath and gloom
turning back to condescend
to think about what might have been

  underneath the midnight sun
red hot  rhythms on her tongue
she speaks a string of colored lights
to light her way back home tonight.

  on dancing ponies in the dark
tiny bells that catch a spark
from the midnight candles lit
by a child who wouldn't quit.

Details | I do not know? | |

My World

On that stage, I see my self on that stage…
I feel free.
Free to say whatever
And free to do me.
Dressed in sweat pants, black shirt
With white long sleeves…with a coofy
…Just being me.
Nothing anyone says,
Nothing anyone does affect me.
Because all will respect me
None will neglect me…but if so
My words shall protect me.
When I am on that stage 
I am on a pedestal…
Where many wanna bees
Wanna be me…
But what they fail to see
Is me doing me
And not anyone else…
I chill and be myself
By myself because 
On that stage, I see my self on that stage…
I feel free
Free to say whatever 
And free to do me.
But there are infractions and glitches
That takes me away from all the relaxation
And freedom…
Then it hits me…
That no matter where I see myself
I will always be back 
In the world of rules and consequences.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Callenge three

Incorporate, fifty word or less, must rhyme, and make some distorted Bell-ish 

Neutron star in a can of tuna
Feathered boa on my poodle
Cooking Black Flag noodles
sweet candy of concrete and caramel
Oop, I fell in my Fruit Loops!

Good Luck!!

Details | Free verse | |

Quiz Wiz , I Is...

I never got so many responses before.
But, so far, you're knocking on the wrong door.
So I'll tell you one thing more,
The answer is virtually in the quiz,
That this old wizard claims is his

Details | Ballad | |

Battlecreek Joust

When Kelloggs' jousts
with Post,
It's easy to find the host,
Just look for that Ruby Red Smile,
From her lawnchair seat, 
for quite a while,
Poppin' pocorn in,
With a fox's sly winning grin,

She dodges the poor fool's splash,
And is set to collect her winner's cash,
She'd bet on that poor fool,
Drowning in that puddle-pool....

One thing the fool noticed
with his last breath,
And his untimely death,
She'd pulled a clever one off,
To mislead others of his ilk,
She's now using GatorAid
instead of milk!!!!

For my Jewel of a friend, Ruby.

Details | Light Poetry | |

Socrates Stole My Socks!

Now I know how he got his name....
He can put an electric dryer to shame!
Dryers eats socks,
Socrates does pilfer....
I wonder what happens,
If I send him a bill 'fer
All my missing socks....
Would he sock me one?

Details | I do not know? | |

Soup Kitchen

I presented my idea of a PoetrySoup convention to the Soup people- they thought 
it was a good idea...We, Soup members, would bear the costs, but I think I have 
a plan (if held on Long Island, N.Y.) that would make those costs reasonable.  I 
just need a show of hands on who would be interested.  We spend a lot of time 
together...why not face to face once in awhile?  Maybe every other year or so...I 
suspect it'd be a blast...if on L.I.- I'll provide the band (free), and if so desired, will
do a stand-up comedy routine. (no tossing tomatoes, please!)  So email me at, and lets see if can open our first "Soup Kitchen"
     Imagine all that talent in one room!!!   I might even have it video-taped!!
                                Best regards, tom bell

Details | Burlesque | |

My Tent

I figured out
How to make some bucks,
In this town,
Where you oft hear "Ahhhh, Schucks!"

I rented a tent- erected it on busy Rt. 9
Southbound traffic, 50 cent fine...
Northbound cars,
Well, that's a buck,
Ah, darn, it gal, twice that
for a truck

Hand painted signs,
And stolen hard hats
All I needed,
To make a fortune,
Oh, rats!!!

Why didn't I think of this
A year ago,
I'd be so rich,
That you know...
I'd open a hot dog stand,
with roadside beer,
To assauge any anger,
Calm any fear.

And get wealthy to boot,
Ain't that a hoot!
And keep traffic down,
When I wish to sleep
Make them turn around,
And homeward creep.

Boy this entrepreneur
Spirit of mine,
Will make us rich,
Will make us fine.

So here we go, the sky's
the limit.....
Next runways,
Pay or landing lights,
We'll dim it.....

Oh I'm full of money making ideas
Finally get myself out of arrears!

Details | Verse | |

I heard Him

When a person was delivering,
Leaflets door to door,
When a person was calling them,
For a demonstration,

When a person was on strike,
He was never supported by them,
When a person stands for them,
And asks them for a voice,

When a person was delivering a lecture,
They never care for him,
They were always busy,
Domestic matters were only their need.

They never care for candidates
They never care to vote them,
They never care for campaigns,
Always They remark, politics is n’t good.

When a flood made them homeless,
They opened their eyes and watched others,
They were waiting for their president,
They were asking what will he do for them?

Yes, I heard them when they said,
Politics and equal rights is our need,  
A choice for a candidate is our need,
Society can’t develop without service.

Details | Bio | |

Poet on a Pony

Poet on a Pony,
Traveling up these perilous
winding paths,
To deliver her precious wares
To a sick friend...
Who so anxiously enjoys
her talent and wisdom
Hey, the Pony Express LIves!!!

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Hot wheels.

as I roll them a cross floors dirty with memories that were said to be untrue,
                                         I recall this one
           my favorite             
                                                                  it was dark blue,
this one took me away from the pain on the inside
                       this one
                                                        was black and fast
    it hide me from the beatings 
                                                                 I felt out side,
this one would pick up my mom and take her away for a while
                    it was classy with gold trim
it covered her bruises
                                                                 and always made her smile,
this one was big enough for all my brothers and sisters
                                                      it took us to places we been before
                  a black and white police van
                                                                    a place that took
pictures of our cuts a blisters,
this one took my brothers away because the law said they were wrong
                 their crimes
                                                      were cries for help
                                                                      like the unheard
abused song,
this one took my sister to where she wanted to be
                in love
                                                        not like what we had
                                                                        love that was free,
the one I spoke of you know my favorite one 
               the one that's blue
                                                         it drove me away from the shouts
and screams
                                                                         to a place where
I had fun,
all of them dried my tears hid my pain and helped me when no one cared
               their dream catchers
                                                           hope chests 
                                                                         to me they were
the only ones there,

Details | Name | |

My Place

You are great because, 
You have opportunity to grow,
You are great because,
You have system to help you.

Don’t blame me, 
I am n’t criminal,
Don’t blame me, 
I am n’t ideal.

I understand as you understand,
I feel as you feel,
My poverty is curse,
Because you never prefer me.

Your religion always exploited me,
Your education always ignored me,
I am also not a beggar, If
You have selection a person on my place.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Big Day to Fly To The Sun

Thanks Vince, I can't hold a tune either...I was even banned from singing in the 
Sean- Been there already (Listen to Floyd's "Set the Controls For the Heart of the 
Sun"- a song my band was doing in 1970)  PS- if you plan to go to the Sun 
anyway, I strongly suggest you go at night!

Details | I do not know? | |

Clue Number Three

"It's namesakes generally come in pairs"

As of this posting, reward value has dropped to 7 pts. ....Don't let this beat you!!! 
Show the world your brain-power, and intuitive skills!!

Details | Verse | |

Idea A Strength,

Idea is immortal,
A person, animals, birds, 
Trees, plants, mountains,
River, grass, every thing dies,
Except than air and light. 

The world and nature has
Progress the cause of Idea,
Idea lives in air and light,
As a new baby grows,
With the help of air and heat.

A seed shoots itself, 
The cause of air and heat,
When you feel tired,
You may walk in fresh air,
When mind is cool, you heat it up.

Idea comes to touch your mind,
Body gets strength and starts,
Work until idea provides light,
A person feels happiness,
That who listens himself.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Challenge Four

100 words or less, to rhyme, humor a plus..Feb. ten. Good Luck- email copy to, and post, please- winner gets a tom Bell Cookbook!

Brushing the velvety hair of the bald midget
Olives on the run
Hidden Puppy, Crouching pooper
New set of blinds
Gumballs on the bar
rock music in Chinese
Wally Eagle, ootty-booty-li-li
Mercedes Benz
Slip of the forked snake tongue

Good Luck!!

Details | I do not know? | |

Super Quiz No. 2

This is a three part puzzle, with a bonus question- each starting at 10 points, and, 
as before, each less one point starting on the second day (starting on Weds. 
10/17, at noon, or as each new day's clue is posted, (If I oversleep...), and 30 
points are needed to win.  As last time, post to my AOL address, and GOOD 
LUCK!!! The 1st prize will be the same- a poem written by me on any 1 word, 
name, thing, action,etc., However, to win the Grand Prize- A copy of my poetry 
book when published in the near future, or, if you choose, the cash-equivalent 
prize, payable  in tootsie rolls- (3, as calculated by it's value) or (6) Holloween 
lollipops...or a vhs copy of a tom bell comedic skit of his must get 
all 4 parts correct, winning at least 35 points.  All awards are final, and the 
decision of da' Judge'....Here Come Da' Judge......!! will be considered final, 
unless you can insult him into submission.....(oh, hmmmmm, dis' b' gittin' 
compleeakated....)  Have fun, guys...and "May The Forks Be With You!!!"
                                                       Regards, tom bell

P.S.- Contest ends 5PM, Monday, Oct.22nd.  And again, submissions draped in a 
sense of humor may earn up to 3 bonus points each, if in rhyme form, or 
burlesque form.  (No contestant stripping allowed in any bizarre desire to 
influence da' jugge!)

New Quiz Part No. 1; "It might be related to a hungry person eagerly devouring a 
hero sandewich ravenously."
Part No.2;  "Adults and tots play with its parts."
Part No.3;  "It moves from state to state, but uses neither automobile nor plane."
Bonus Question;  "If things go ever more poorly,
                                 "And you can no longer find,
                                 "Your confusion award, you may
                                 "find these two words on your sword."

Go Get'um Soupers!!!...".May the Forks Be With You!!!"

Details | Rhyme | |

Book a Trip

Book a trip
On board the Great Railways
In mysteries and histories of your nation
Riding from destination to destination;
Saddle up for other trails to blaze
With each page you flip.

Book a trip
On board the wings of flight
And fly to distant lands
Discovering times and races and
languages and cultures day and night;
Take off from the airstrip.

Book a trip
On board a craft for outer space
And go beyond earthly depiction
To terrestrial fact or fiction
Where fantasy is commonplace,
And imagination is the ship.

Book a trip
On board a seafaring vessel
And sail the seven seas for love
And adventure directed from above;
Dive into ocean worlds, and nestle
Into nature for other tips.

Book a trip
In your free time or if it's a bore
And learn the past, present and future
The sciences and how to suture,
The arts and games and so much more
In silence or with words on your lips.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Super Quiz Annoucement

Hey, guys...Since I've been negligent regarding clue posting; The Super Quiz 
deadline will be extended till midnight of Friday 10/19/07.  So, good luck- and 
here is clue recap, once again- No. 1)It can be associated with keyboard humor.  
No.2)Yikes, strikes, thumbs in dykes/dikes- actual spelling should have been 
dikes-  remember, I admit being brain-dead.  No.3)It's namesakes generally 
come in pairs.  New; No.4) It's sweet to the senses, of that, you can bet your hat.
Good Luck!!!

Details | Light Poetry | |

u'z guys iz grate

this is such a plus in my life....all these talented new friends..where souls are 
bared, and laughter shared....and you've all I mind 
compared, to someone who sweared, that he was fared amongst those who 
blared, their trumpets snared, in time now squared.  Ya didn't expect it ta'  make
sense, now, did ya?

Details | I do not know? | |

Quiz No. 2- new Clue

I apologize for the delay-it's not easy being stupid- but I have now posted the 
fourth, and final clue.  This one should lead someone to glory.  Ending date now 
this coming Wednesday 6 P.M.  Nov. 7, 2007.... Good Luck!

Details | Free verse | |

And There Was A Day...

Somehow, I don't know how,
I wound up at the Soup...
The minds I have exchanged thoughts with,
I could find nowhere else...
The Sharons, the Christys, the Hecks...
These are jewels of humanity
Whose eyes see so much deeper
Than the most educated fool,
And there are so many of you!!...
I doubt the reality of my life...
I've never been this lucky....
I've never found minds that match mine in rambling thought,
Now I have found them all over the world,
So many who I will learn so much from...
Best of all, these are people who take
an interest in my life,
And even worry about me...
When I disappear into the medical
Nightmare ahead...
The satisfaction of knowing,
these minds,
and that my words are out there...
Maybe they will make sense to some,
Maybe a smile, 
Maybe a revelation...
But, in any event....
My words are posted...
My thoughts, my dreams,
My to all for review...
And it feels good....
For I am assured these readers...
Will understand,
What most would not...
You are my valued friends...
You have made me walk all the taller,
You have made me think thoughts
I might have missed...
And you have provided me...
With the "Safe Harbour" of Sharon...
My favorite poem...
Although you are all gems,
All I can say is thanks, buddies...
Keep those words flowing...
You ARE helping people."

Details | Free verse | |

Sharon's Shining Love

She reads my writes, moments after....
Their creation,
Responds at once,
As she does for all...
The towering beacon
Of the soup's genius,
She should be paid..
For the life she breaths
Into this site each day,
And we are blessed ...
To call her Soupmate....
On top of the elites,
such as Rhoda, Sue, Heidie,
Christy,John, Vince, Popa Joe,
Farah, Maya,Carol, Patricia,
Peggy, Laura,Jack,My lovely Ruby,
John LoveingIII (What a cool name!!),
Peggy,Karen,and so many others
my mind would melt trying to go further,
and surely I would run out of ink.
Just let me say, she is the brightest beacon
at Poetrysoup, I dare say we'd all agree,
Her poems are great,
And somehow she finds time,
To read all our works,
And generously comment,
That's a miracle to me.
So thank you Shar, from
all of us, we value your every word,
You are special to each one of us,
It's about time of this you've heard.

Details | Bio | |

Devil In the Chem Lab

Highschool years,
Not my best,
Though I easily passed any test,
I joined the chem lab,
To assist a bird brained woman,
She was rarely in the lab,
And we were rarely performing,
what we were supposed to be do'ing,
We'd mix different chemicals,
Until we got, the explosion we were brewing,
And poison gas feared us not,
We had a whole lab classroom ,
As refuge from our evil doing...
And in that lab class I'd proudly write,
On all the blackboards there,
"The "Gors" rule, we'll cream the "Cams"
And other childish drivel...
The birdbrained lab tech could
not figure out...who might be so uncivil...

Our bigggest joy was creating explosions,
For the lab tech was always gone...
The bigger, the better...
Our success measured by how many
Chem teachers ran in, to see what's up.
A challenge we always met,
We never got punished,
And thank God we killed no one,
Cause a lab full of chemicals,
And two fools with no knowledge or concerns,
Was the same as two madmen each with a gun.

Details | Free verse | |

Inside the Poets Soul

Howdy to y'all ! do ya wanna
take a journey with me
inside the poet's soul?
yea, how 'bout it... we'll jus'
have a look around,
starin' everywhere but the ground
and ye and thyself 
shall appreciate
the softness of her thoughts
and imagine ourselves
both poets just like her!
and he she comes
a-dancin' and 
beatin' her drums
with her pretty brown thumbs
as she sings the songs of her dreams
these sweet dreams take her
to places only within
her wild fantasy mind
and let her be free, say,
from the world of yesterday
as she was trapped inside
the strong, mighty ocean tide,
roaring in her mind...!

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Dear Rhoda Part 2

As I said- L.I. was home to me up until about a year ago, when I made the 
(oopps) mistake of moving upstate, near Poughkeepsie (Wappinger Falls, which 
I call Foppinger Walls).... It is soooo boring!!  No wonder I'm posting poetry 20 
hours a day.....  By the way, I'd never heard of Long Island Iced Tea till I went to 
Arizona a few years ago.  Talk about puttin' starch in your socks!!  regards  Tom

Details | Rhyme | |

Little Jack Brawner

Little Jack Brawner,
Stewed in a corner,
Eattin' some kind of crud all day,
Over came Noodles The Shiv,
Said, "Your food and money you better give!"
Jack yelled, "No Way!!"
He stood up in defiance
And got the merest glance..
As "Noodles" shived him in the gut...
Goes to show you,
That Jack was a friggen' nut.

Details | I do not know? | |

No. 9, No.9, No.9.......

Ahhhh, Quiz 9 is still open, though one fav female did come close, in a way...
New Clue; "Children enjoy it's abilities..."

Details | Free verse | |

Awaiting the Fall

I have been down
there pretty  pretty low.
I met some people
there that even You 
might need to know.
For however high 
You're able to fly. 
We'll still be waiting 
when and not if
You ever  take a fall.