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On Writing And Words Mystery Poems | On Writing And Words Poems About Mystery

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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 | Free verse | |

Come Back To Me

The Ink Bottle sits, alone,
It’s only Companions,
The Feathered Pen,
The Paper Pad.

The Desk, once alive,
The Words,
No longer,

Love, abandon,
But wanting not,
The Freedom,
It has.

A Wooden Chair, dusty,
Reclines not,
For the Comfort,
Once given.

Time, a mystery gone,
With passing,
Never to be recovered,

Days of gloom, waiting,
Shine not, The Light,
The Heart,
Once brightened.

Come back, to Me,
My words, of Joy,
Of Laughter,
Wisdom, once known.

Details | Haiku | |

It is now

Ain't a word, you said.
but it takes a daring gust 
for things start to be.

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 | Quatrain | |

Tried & Tested - into the sunset

I am so far out of my element
It almost seems unreal
When in truth, which I always seek to find
Pretence is all that I feel
In this, my second language
I aim to express the glistening skin
That hides the shallow graves of conscience
Trapped so deep within
The pottery I shape in craft
Though pedistilled and on display
A camouflage that’s merely drafted
words of wisdom most portray
And in the spirit of fairness
As a virtue which we all possess
Accept my resignation
For this sport has had its best 
I’m off to party hard and waste
My life as best as I know how
The animal within this chest
Needs freedom to survive for now
The playing game of words
is but a winding road that’s filled with stone
I’m parched in parts unheeded
As my cluttered soul heads home

Details | Haiku | |

' Metaphysical Moment (The Haiku)

Metaphysical Moment (The Haiku)

           Understanding A
       Metaphysical Moment …
       … Nature’s Mysteries

                 This Haiku is for:
       The Haiku Master ‘Raul’ Moreno
Metaphysical Poet Extraordinaire’ (smile))


Details | Dramatic Verse | |


Words are just a decoy
An excuse to dance around the truth
Underestimated silence
Proves language is uncouth

Your gut will always tell you
What your heart tries to ignore
Most try their best to silence it
Stirring an internal war

Why deny yourself of happiness?
Why pretend logic is correct?
Why hide behind a curtain?
Why pretend our hearts select?

Ignorance is truly bliss
Too bad that's not our case
Lets take a risk and show our courage
Let our souls meet face to face.

Details | Free verse | |

Dealing the cards

Come on artists
lets play a game
its all different to me and i want you to see how i am different
and let me shine as you sign up another way 
as i prove to you my leadership of this new age wave

cards cards
give them new meanings
like you never knew you could 
and lets make the psychics pine through our words to figure out
what they are reading and believing

I wanna see your hearts and spades
dressed in tall grass or lemonaide
i wanna see your cups and wands
inbetween whispering winds and songs lead me there
i know you can come on 
come on 
come on be strong 
like a suit of clubs or diamonds
show me something
and then sprinkle your writings
and we'll make collectors out of all those we invite here
as they read and ponder the meanings of our literature

whats in your hand?
a royal flush a pair?
and as we deal the cards they stumble upon at this endless game 
of cribbage or poker
or tarock
or war who is winning and getting points?
what card means what to who and why

tell me artist as you write with your style on low and high
what makes what suit smile and fade shine and slide?
inside outside sphere of influence
be their collective the object of the psychics to crave?

blind leading the blind
and something they are after for days and days

a few cards your favorite cards play smart or dumb
shuffle the cards pick a game deal a hand
reveal what your playing and one day i'll tell you what we're playing what your 
cards mean
if nothing
to someone one day when the stumble your way
the mystery of nothing speaks something
and we rebuild the puzzle of cartomancy better and better this way

just inspire
once you know you can't
blind leadin gthe blind
so after you read this you can't
play along your uninvited
strike it off your list of things to do
round one is over now go find all who wrote
all who write all who have wriitten the masterpieces
of cards and see what they mean today and collect them for that is something no 
one else can do
until round two....

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 | Free verse | |

Center of nothing

This is the center
of all my work
I write one line
before and after each line
and you will see
when you place my lines of other poems in between
this is my reality coming undone
for this is my center

For I am but a fool
out to trick myself
I am a clown
stuck in the middle
of something
and somewhere
wondering what else?

This is the key
of what i said before and after
the reality of my craft
and the solutions
to all my upcoming endless 
psycho babble chapters
of genies and wishes
and batters and pitter patter

This is the center
I'm spiraling out from
a line above and below
to read between
each piece
a true obviousness
of limited wonder and laughter
and hanged men

For this is just the middle
of everything
but it's not really
so this is my disguise
of a confession

Details | Rhyme | |

Mr. Enigma

Fingers nimbly tapping his
heart onto the page
a rich tapestry of heartache
gentleness and rage

perceptions that astound me
engaging my soul
first one way, then another
a fall down the rabbit hole

who is this gifted writer
who speaks in shortened lines
tap tap tapping out his magic
til my heart he entwines

Details | Free verse | |

Mental Magnetism

I'm somehow quite sure
that somewhere, on the way
be it a turpentine, brilliant lit day
or misty and fog eaten sky breath induced
that we've met without words,
without glances or nods
but with my sleeve barely quick brushing by yours
You transferred to me a barrel of emotions
some light like popped bubbles
some wearing molten lead shoes
sunk with black river troubles
carried in even the sleeves of your coat
And I, in my haste, responded in kind
and ran jumper cable straps from my prickly mind
Overcharged something, in some kind of thoughts
and bolted your skin off the moving sidewalk
Somehow, I still think we are connected some way
it's wrapped like a gift in the words you convey
and I'm eating velvet from the weave of your coat
weeping your tears from the things that you wrote
I'm somehow quite sure
that somewhere we'll meet
eyes to still eyes lacking motion complete
In visions worth murmuring while we're asleep
we'll sing with one voice fully captured.

Details | Free verse | |

Generic Minds

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

Details | Haiku | |

The Internet: Return

A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...

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 | Haiku | |

The Less I Have

the less i have of
the additional use of
the more it breaks down

Details | Free verse | |

Invisible Ink

"My pen drips of sorrow and on this paper, I write each tear" – A Rambling Poet

Someone once said, “Write not what should not be read…”
He never knew what to do otherwise
for his pen was his only friend, and paper, his face
of which emotions made themselves known

Forbidden love touched his heart,
never knowing ‘til then that it could be 
the ink for which his pen would write

He seized that passion
and wrote ‘til his fingers bled, mindless of the pain,
numb with love.
The pain was superficial after all, just blood on skin
A flurry of letters that grew strength on secrecy…

Ah, but someone once said…
“Write not what should not be read…”

But how badly he wanted to be read…
the only problem is that word called

Love reveals, love betrayed;
hearts betray, hearts revealed.

It was all a ruse,
to let slip secrets that were never meant
to be known.

The pain now draws from the heart,
bleeding him dry, reaching his soul
to dehydrate him some more,
‘til Death becomes his friend.


She receives one last letter in the post
-a blank sheet, wrinkled…warped

Was it invisible ink?
On the contrary,
its message was loud and clear.

No words needed at all, just
pure sorrow of a heart and soul 
that wept

…her tears stain that paper now,
never enough to smooth it out.

August 14, 2011  149a219 
for Constance’s Just Write contest :)

Details | Ghazal | |

How to love

My roots are trembling
through clay orgasm,
tumbling the landslide
that speaks every shake or so.
Leo roars and I await life,
Generic roving rumbles
reminding me of the world around,
but I never remember
how to cling to the ground.

Details | Narrative | |

The Battle Lost and Won

As naturally and effortlessly as birds fly
Unannounced and quietly an Idea came by
Faster than the weightless wind it flew
Where it came from no one asked, no one knew

Longing for a cloak in which to be wrapped
It knocked on many doors asking to be dressed
It wished to be given a shape and form for all to see
It wanted an existence, and in this world a chance to be

The farmer was farming, the worker busy working
The judge was judging, the thief in the shadows lurking
The preacher was of the invisible kingdom preaching
The poet alone with his heart and soul for the Idea reaching

It seized him and became the fire in his veins
The beating in his heart, the throbbing in his brain
It became the movement of his arms and legs
He asked for the right words like a beggar for food begs

The Idea through the flesh was about to be born
The invisible by the visible longed to be worn
Like newlyweds neither knew too well the other
They had to unite: each’d be both father and mother

Now the idea took control and led the poet’s pen
Then It was overpowered by the brutish man
Now he’d try to bend It, to suit his words, to shape It 
Then It bent him so that into each other they’d fit

He wished to be a channel for the Idea he sensed
It had a burning desire, a purpose to be expressed
When possessing parts of both the work was done 
An idea of the Idea was born - a battle both lost and won

Details | Bio | |

I Am Poetry

I stand solo, aloof in the snow, a precipitation 
                     of words cascading from a nebulous eye 
Fathoms wide, forever dripping like wax onto 
                     a punctured paper serving a Sanskrit sky,

and spreading into sibilant sentences swiftly 
                     sliding from syllable sorcery to soulful serenades 
so silent in the shunting shout of white. Poetry 
                     fills a churning void where novels cannot wade,

Phrases solidifying into idolisation of emotion 
                     itself, isolation of the isometric individuality that so 
Crushes my keeling cavern of thought, ever 
                     careering from caustic career path to another new low,

Which so seems to crumble into crazy paving’s 
                    counterpart. In this first freeze-frame we can all grasp
A fraction of the familiar, oh so fractured by the 
                    fumbling nature of enforced form. Freed by the gasp 

Of a photo-opportunity glowing phosphorescent 
                    with firsts, I am no longer framed by the festering 
Constraints of non-fiction, and folding my fond 
                    farewells carefully, I hesitantly face a vision pestering 

Me, fearing the fiend that would open maw and 
                    gnaw beneath my feet, evoking an avalanche of the 
Vernacular, but I am further past this unfed 
                    existence now, loosened from the fickle friendship of a

Winter thaw. Focus not your gaze on the grinding 
                    gauze of the greats, for the pressing pestilence of 
Perishable poetry is elsewhere pondering its parallels 
                    in posturing and post-modern pining for forlorn love. 

Praise no other; I am poetry.

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 | Free verse | |

Poetry Contests

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Details | Prose Poetry | |

Frankenstorm 2012: A Haunting of Shelleys

A Cardinal darts past, and I cannot quite discern if it chirps out of nervousness
towards the impending storm.
If so, the twittering of cell phones sound far more nerve-wracking -- 
portable typewriters encased in the soul-less facade of laissez faire; 
of keeping track, of minding the flocks. 

Yes, everyone is a poet these days, tapping away on miniature, plastic typewriters,
typing away the next narrative filled with prose pretending to be free verse.

Whether the majority is truly poetic or not, Frankenstorm surely is poetic;
named after Mary Shelley's, Frankenstein. 
The poetic justice of it all amongst a tragedy of broken necks and drownings, 
for the Shelleys were the epitome of Romanticism -- 
not of ritualistic bouquets bought from the florist who sells porn on the sly, 
or of waxy chocolate made by children in clandestine factories built from the bricks 
of Mao's dreams of anthills and selling short the power stemming from another poet 
turned arms dealer.

No, the romance for life itself; to become poetry as poetry turns into us. 
To find mystery in everyday moments; to distil this mystery, offer it to the reader, 
so that the reader becomes drunken, swooning in a stupor towards worlds 
that are 1,000,000 light years away.

Frankenstorm, the Haunting of Shelleys, lashes out at the dead poetry of today; 
at the empty, listlessly inane, lazy poetry of today. 
The brightest stars are falling into a void, turning away from the very essence 
they so wish to express....only because they want to be unique, to be original, 
to carve their own niche into the Jack O' Lanterns of a Hallowe'en quickly turning into cheap, dollar store decorations. 
They still have hope. They still have hope, even if many further detach themselves 
from their emotions with another dose of prescription pills meant to pacify; 
meant to reign in the emotional beasts of imagination, until only zombies preserved in formaldehyde, remain.

I can literally feel the Haunting of Shelleys ask wot has become of us.
It used to be about work ethic and soul - one had to kick, tear, bite, simply to publish 
a pamphlet that might be read by 10 people. 
Nowadays, everyone is a supposed poet. A few clicks, 'submit', and people from all 
over the world can read cotton-candy couplets, or a free verse rendition of another grocery list.
But we must embolster this with: 
"They are only beginning; they need to express themselves; 
they just don't care."

I don't want to be told about the pain, the tragedy, the beauty, the love. 
I want to be shown.
I want to feel it.
I want to feel it squeeze my gray matter into a bitter-sweet drink; 
I want to feel it go down.
I want to feel it warm up my heart, grip my stomach until the bottom falls out 
and I am left careening down a shaft in an elevator with a broken pulley and rusted-through brakes, and just when I think the end has come, the elevator bursts through 
a bottom which is actually the ceiling of a world now turned upside-down -- 
and by the time I right myself, have read the last line, there is still a remaining mysterious periphery of the cats that reside in the corner of my eyes; 
purring, waiting until I come back to re-read that particular poem, 
for it is so tantalizing, I want to come back to it over and over again 
for the remainder of my years.

Storms will always come and go, 
but I sensed the metaphorical message of the Frankenstorm very strongly. 
Yet this doesn't mean that I will turn the message into fruition. 
But I will certainly attempt to do so.
Within my delirium, I will continue to try distilling the intangible 
into a drunken tangibility; even for the sake of simply trying.

And as I ponder, as I witness the present decay of humanity, 
witness the state of today's poetry, I can only wonder how many more 
Hauntings of Shelleys are possibly already brewing.

                                                                                        October 31st, 2012

My thoughts go out to those caught in the path of Frankenstorm 2012.
Such events move me very deeply.

*I have already posted this prose in a blog, because at the time,
the character-count exceeded the limit of poem posts.


Details | Free verse | |



Your sunset-sanctioned skin ignite melody to boredom world
Your gently pearling smile charm the attention of morning sun.
Your charmed souls burn in nuclear passion
To absorb the bombardment of your ink
You are the unsolved mystery of existence 
                By pd
The sunrises 10 feet off the ground
This place carried the eternal light I need for my soul to soar.
Like the clouds every poet brush away my blues with one simple smile
Writing ignited my heartbeat to flicker like a candlewick non-stop.
I hold that piece of puzzle that makes my existence complete
Elegantly you walk, Venus-like
Printing glory-of-gods on excited earth
Holding hostage your admirers' eyes
With your Gabriel-censored attire
You are truly the mystery of existence  
               By pd
My eyes I keep holding on tight.
Gathering dangerous looks, from every poets eyes.
Striking like a speed of thunder bolt, 
I fell weak like an addict to my admires streak of rays'
I'm the piece of puzzle that makes my own existence complete

Oh beautiful empress of poetry soup.
Wake thy muse and shake off the dust of block
Your fans are in inferno hunger of your welded words
Feed us again, your poetic meal that somersault the arrows of critic
For you are the unsolved mystery of existence    
                 By pd
A great source to gather the best light here on the soup.
I found my heart beating like a rush~ spontaneous 
Imaging every poem that helps me get lost in the moment
I wrote against and among the best to be like the rest
For I'm that unsolved piece of puzzle that makes my existence complete

You are kinder than nature, more hospitable than mother earth
Man and woman scramble for shelter in your cheerful hearts
For your contest, all thoughts erect pines of words
With rush of the sea storm
P.D. ((  Linda ))  is the unsolved mystery of existence  

                   By pd
Losing myself to reality, this is not like me to fall into deep.
Times maybe hard, not even a simple song to poet my mind.
The truth is, the sun has blinded me with love, and I have no SUN-BLOCK
Until my instincts tells me otherwise, I will find my way back to all my fans * true or not
I (IRMA~LINDA) am responsible for the happiness of my mysterious existence.

For Pd's  collab with me contest

Details | Lyric | |

Whose Master is Sawicki

There … 
It was
dark. England, 
set down,  and stretched out 
for miles, 
and days 
without end
Far afield her quondam spirit,
But forever sprawling

Discouraging clouds 
with unbroken tears 
that washed out …
cricket games 
and pigeon stool, 
bleeding into drinking …

Watered-down whiskey 
from pubs 
following the concrete pavements
Victorian structures, 
and verdant meadows
that sleep …
to the lullabies
of Jackdaws and humming engines 

I often wonder, 
how one can speak 
without both lips in motion;
Are they half ventriloquists? 
I need no retort;
I’m just playing George on this one

When Auntie returned …,
from London, with her brain
swimming in high tide,
they were quick to blame
the clock,
but Manchester is the author
of this charlatan

The tale is that
those who trust
Big Ben for time
Will in fact misplace their minds
How true a case is he?
Old England will agree
he is special
Rum will whisper tall stories,
same with Cognac and Vodka,
but aren’t there days
when we are restrained

What is Sawicki,
but a train, blowing wet whistle?
How straight can one walk
with neurons bathing in ethanol?
In days past, dictionaries were scarfed-up;
men were …
Men were quick  and questioning  
Where is evolution; 
like monkeys we mimic?

John Fletcher
I know, and C. Marlowe
Much of William Blake and Carew
I recalled Arnold, 
the Brownings, and Dowson,
So much for Killigrew,
old Abercrombie, Crowley,
and young Liam Wilkinson
Who in God’s name is Sawicki,
Whose “master” is he? 

Details | Acrostic | |

Everytime I Look Around The Corner

I live a life in a place where alcohol violence reigns supreme/ 
over a dying culture split in se7en groups of se7enty times se7en of rival teams/
 I hear my brothers hollers I hear my sisters screams/ 
I see people live among broken glass like that of many broken dreams/
 I sometimes wish I could not see what my two eyes sometimes see/ 
I cant act blind as if it were just a brush off my sleeve/
 The more I lose in life the more it seems the less I need/
 I try and overcome my own selfish greed/ 
I got a child on the way I now look at what kind of role model I'd be/ 
I was was incarcerated so I must not take for granted for the simple fact that Im free/
 But it hard with tattoos on my face in place where tattoos like mine seem a disgrace/
 Lord watch over me as I take last place in this life game race/ 
It not a matter of being first second or third Lord cuz all I need iz your grace/
 help me to better walk off this destructive road and slow my pace/ 
Just take me now if Im done with your purpose if thats the case/
Because I dont want to live like I got to look over my shoulder right around the corner....

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 | Dramatic monologue | |

Inferno Negro

the negro is inferno. doomed for hell. sinful with lost indulging in their own ignorance. made into a reincarnation of the devils wishes. the devils wants the devils needs. they say the pigment is the reason. but i say Jesus is the reason for the devilish seasons excuse my blatant response to the evils that have been done in the name of the SON. the inferno negro is the movie of this country, always watched and critic-ed. you must understand that self hating is very wicced, misunderstood when you walk through a suburban neighboorhood the devil is screaming conform!! conformm!! inferno negro you dont belong so just get along, even if the devil knows. the devil knows your story and your weakness and he lives behind and inside the so called supremacy system we live within. peace inferno negro know thyself for you are so lost in this Babylonia hell.

Details | Haiku | |


Quill still as the sky
motionless arms akimbo
severe writer's block.

Details | Alliteration | |

The Prime Directive Quiz ( P D Q ) or Prolix Drama Queen Part Three of Three

‘Cause, Priests and Prophets Must Pray for The Reign…
and for Pre and Post-Op-Apocalyptic–Novocain ! …

Yet… It Doesn’t Matter, What Distress to You
 On the Planet, however Polluted or Profane
It Doesn’t Matter, What Distress to You
 Wherever the Delusional -Dimensional Plane
It Doesn’t Matter, What Distress to You
Or Danger-Plot, Prison-Door or Deepest Pain
Or Present-Defeat, or Darkest-Hours-View
even Thru Dying-Breath, Devout Prayers Proclaim
to Be Delivered- New, True, and Pulled-Thru
to Claim The Prize of Life-Perpetually-Sustained

… For Particularly, By God’s Unpronounceable Power
Thru His Son’s Unparallel- Principal-Purchase… Dower
God’s Dependents and Dreamers Will Prosper-Gain
The Prophecy,  The Promise,  The Paradise-Preordained 
The Perfect-Future  and  The Victory-Parade

… The Distant, Destiny of Eden – Never Been Doused Nor Degrade 

Then… It Won’t Matter…So, Please Dismiss The Paltry-Strain
The Days of The Deformity and Damage-Train
Will Be In The Past … Departed-Detained
Disaster and Disloyal Will Lay In A Destroyed-Plain
Damned For All Of Time –Proliferate-Blamed
A Suppository-Prophylactic-Puddle-Shame
 Patience-Persevering…Demands Punishment - Prediction-Sang… 
… Final-Draft …Stop-The-Presses!... Poll-Loudly-Refrains

When You Really Discern and Pragmatically-Attain
The Divine God and His Son’s King- Domain
Publicize Their Progenitor and Predominant Names
and Preach and Deify Like-Doting-Platoon-Swains,
 with Pedestal-Passion and ‘Plum-Plumb’, Persistence-Ingrained 

For On Position-Comparison, We   ‘All’   Pale-to- A-Feigned …
…Puppets and Peons and Dim-Witted-Parasitic-Great Danes
and Dopamine Defective, Demerol Addicted – Darwin-Poisoned-Sprains
Disoriented-Drivel, Droll-Drooling-Inane
or Just-Plain ol’ Dire-Derelicts-Insane
(and now… I have a P D Q,… for Me and You… Migraine)
Oh… May They Accept This Poor-Placard-Crane

                    Amen… Again… Amen

Details | Couplet | |

Hieroglyphs unknown by Champollion

Kids are playing with strange blue graffiti
So, they wrote several times: ”Neffertiti” …

And drew the most beautiful queen`s head.
The whole history of Egypt written in red, 

With sacred hieroglyphs unknown by Champollion:
The Pharaons` destiny dandles a dewy dandelion…

Details | Free verse | |


What’s big to me may be small for you
But when you hurt I hurt too
So many different phases I’ve been through
Withdrawal & self-indulgence just to name a few
I dodge sleep to note this nonsense to both me and you
My desperate attempt at understanding 
Has only led to more questions
I remember when medication numbed me well enough to stay quiet
A zombie!
All last night I cried and cried
You slept while I died all the more inside
I don’t have all the answers
One thing I know is
Dreaming and fantasizing 
In these worlds I find solace 
Seeing and realizing
It hurts…
It hurts…
People have been so unfair –
But then again 
What is fair?
So many questions…
Once upon a time,
I’ve put down my pen 
Followed doctors and drugs
Their drugs, my drugs
Just stop judging me and fix me!
I’ve put down the drugs
Picked up a pen
And this is the reason other people say I’m doing well?
What’s real?
I can’t tell
Is it what you tell me or what I tell me?
Drugs have concealed me
Silenced me…
Taught me that I don’t have to feel just see
And shake my head
Now I can both feel 
Shake my head
I can verbalize 
But I’d rather not talk just write
I can write and write just to get it out on paper
It’s still in my mind
I’m not fixed
Still I cry and cry
While you sleep
So which am I supposed to choose?
Solace or the truth?

Details | Light Poetry | |

What's Wrong With Words

The process must work naturally,
Can't expect niceties when collared
brought kicking and screaming 
to the printed page.
Even the lowest parts of speech
Deserve and expect respect
Some words fit together, snuggle
Seem quite comfortable with the arrangement.
When contented become a happy brood,
A Brady bunch expressing their satisfaction
Reading smoothly, cleanly and rhythmically.
Twins or maybe kissing cousins,
Words that hold hands, play, share.
Words that have a peculiar panache.
Aligned alliterations properly placed,
Artfully spoken by a Prince of Denmark.
Poor boy, death marked, mother poisoned,
Father murdered, done in by words.
Verbalizations live, giving breath
To dark secrets struggles of creation,
Expressing triumphs and tragedies.
For words are the crux and cry of life.

Details | Verse | |

A Toy Girl

A smooth and soft,
A cheerful and lovely,
Like a red rose,
Her smile was knocking,
My conscientious 
That was toxicating,
And mind likes to talk,
As she was a toy girl.

Praising for her new dress,
Her jewellery and appearances,
Her walking steps,
Started to palpitate, 
A fly with my dreams,
As a butterfly,
Enjoying fragrance,
In a warmth glimmering world.

Details | Rhyme | |


PT160, what does it mean
Sounds like a plane or some kind of machine
It seems to almost defy definition
Maybe it is some kind of condition

PT160, poetic texting in 160 characters of less
You are thinking, it's strange, that's my guess
But it is quite a challenge to obey the guidelines
160 characters or less, messages that rhyme in four lines

I would encourage you to utilize your poetic talent
To send a message of hope, words of encouragement
Maybe to say words not easy to say face to face
Loving words sent to someone in a far off place

Maybe you're thinking PT160 is quite silly
But those who have received responded positively
Smiles, days made better,thoughts provoked, appreciation
Sometimes just a few kind words can change a life's direction 

Details | I do not know? | |

Passion Fruit Juice

where oh where does my passion lay? in a shoebox, under the staircase? i’ve been looking all day, i’m getting too tired to play. i guess it’s better off this way, to be missing eternally, than to have been found and broken, a curse that bounds when spoken, these days i hardly mention your name. most dreams are fairytales, i need to pretend if i want to achieve. i’m numb, like i’ve had a lobotomy. i am living in honesty or i am not living at all, my passions been pressed into the page - transformed from a natural beauty into something useful.

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 | I do not know? | |


my spine moves slowly with each sound
you speak 
again my spine quivers...shudders even

which is it?
A running horse or walking fingers?
I care not!!!
slipping into an abyss of...
Coyly I smile.
Who's first?....sigh!!!

Details | Free verse | |

Blinkink Cursor

Blinking Cursor 

Why do you taunt me so?
A hungry hatchling eager to eat from my nest of ideas
An exotic dancer alone on a white stage— taking text for tips
I cannot walk away I am drawn to your blinking body
Hypnotized by the deformed piano key daring me to play suicidal notes of an unknown tragedy
Revived by the flat line, black and brave against a pasty piece of paper resuscitating my imagination 
A weak Samaritan to the beggar that bothers me for change; and correction of my written work
My lonely lover waiting to make literary love on plain white sheets
The hero that rescues all my forgotten memories
Essential to the healing of my sanity
So why must you taunt me with endless possibilities?

Details | I do not know? | |


Our lives are like stories 
Like the ones found in books
We all play our part in the plot
But you were a bit more than just a character
Babe, you were a chapter

Chapters begin and end so quickly
So fleeting, like the way we would flirt
A heart-pounding beginning with a dry, cold close

I'm saying good bye 
This is for every time I could have cried
This is for every night that you forgot I exist
But I haven't shed a tear on you and, boy, I'm not gonna try
This is for every single mean thing you say
This is me deciding not to pretend I'm looking the other way
This is something I'm doing for me
So good bye, cause no longer will I be the girl who is blind

The chapter has sealed itself shut
So sit in your room and play some mean songs about me
I don't care, I know somebody with nicer hair

As a kid you must have been the bully on the playground
I'm done being the girl you give affection to and push down 
And I'm tired of standing on the sidelines while you try to run the show
I'm gonna move on with my life 
Prove there are things you will never know
There are things that books can't tell you 
Things only the heart can understand
You don't have one of those
So, pardon me, if I don't consider you a man

The chapter has ended but I won't shed a tear
The future's too bright for me to look back to darkness

Details | Epigram | |

Full Moon 101

A full moon is known for making people do things that are weirder and weirder. It only appears at night, even when the Earth rotates and stuff. It happens on every 14th of 15th of the lunar month. The full moon is so whole, but so scarier, it's like staring it right in the face. Everybody also knows that when people turn into werewolves (just like the werewolf movies), they most likely howl at the full moon. It may be a real myth and a real folklore or whatever, but All full moons are still making people do weird things. It seems that the Earth's been rotating around the sun, even when the day's over. But when it comes to a full moon and werewolves and stuff, they're basically from movies and Greek mythologies and stuff, in which they're a bunch of awesome folklores. And if the full moon continues to appear at night and people continue to do weirder things, thereby making people do weird things, there's no telling what weirder thing might happen next, even on another full moon.

Details | Prose Poetry | |


Spelling Bee 
 S it starts with S no arguments the EI could be the IE but the E is alphabetically 
the foremost letter and IE seems wrong to mee then there is another S. It seems 
so out of place but sounds so there it seems to me the S makes seismic sense. 
The M is just the middle of the word caught between the EIS and the ending. The 
ending is the IC it seems to me to be less forcefull AC would do better call it 
seismac rhymes with smack see eh? And makes a much better and harder 
word. The possibilities multiply immediately the Seismac Ocean. The Isle of 
Seismac. The Seismac waves washed over the smurfer today as he sat android 
like at his computer terminal in the shaded area. Everyone has favorite places 
and webpages on the internet there is many such places a man will visit and tell 
everyone about them but there is a few that he will never divulge the info even on 
his deathbed he keeps the sign in log on secret. 
He will sit and watch the movie while his best and only friend flips the simulation 
cards to make the mouses ears move up and down. This is vanity and chagrin. 
The up to the minute news is had while his only friend sits looking at the crystal 
glass ball in an effort to determine what transpired in la la  land. The news in 
Africa is GOLD in America its OLD in Switzerland it's COLD in The Netherland it's 
BOLD. The same seismac article of war zone policy states that upper echelon 
read faster they get better weather and more money cake and laughter. Mein 
COMP. MIEN Comp. The hills are blue the beans are red becomes blue beans 
the hills are red, the while away the time becomes the time is marching on the 
sun will set in the western sky at daybreak in the eastern lie. The tsunami waves 
of seismac grains reach all the living left alive for when the people die the spirit 
feels it. Eye am seismac. 

Details | Acrostic | |


Drain out the violence from the paintbrush and smear it to the canvas 

Aggressive creatures scuttle into my expanding cranium

Memories of him echoes through the forest…into the atmosphere

Astonishing screams of misfortune filter the forest where he once trailed

Great solitude and rage tortures us all…we will not fall!

Everlasting breakage paints me a portrait of turmoil and what not

Details | Free verse | |

A Hushed Prayer

I beg for your forbearance
For I have disregarded my faith towards You
I beg for your healing in advance
For I have disclaimed Your protection and now I’m blue

Do you notice that I’m blanketed in deep distress?
My pillow is soaked externally with unsettling tears
My good memories that bestowed hopefulness
Has been meddled with for years
Has been mistreated and replaced by insecure dreadfulness
I need shelter from the tide of despairs and fears

I’m shattered and I’m seeking Your helping hand
Receive my hushed prayer…from your throne in heaven
I’m begging for Your contentment that’s beyond grand
Receive my muffled prayer… or I’ll be stuck in this tarnished den

Do you notice that I’m spinning mad in the rivers of mystifying visions?
My unwavering boat sinks drastically with damaged gears
My bad memories that departed from my missions
Has been discarding the carefree years
Has been neglected and torn apart by dishonorable decisions
I need Your love to embrace me with jubilation and cheers
I beseech for Your mercy
For I have abused my steadfast hope towards You
I look forward to Your infinite Kingdom favorably
For I have admired Your blessings and now my dreams come true!
In Jesus’s name,


Details | Haiku | |



cracks reminding us 
a calender hangs silence 
by all irony.


Practice for the blind 
circulation shutting down
shall twist towards plot


Running for their skin,
civilised sugar paper , 
for response alone.


Details | Rhyme | |


It's the desire to do better with a fresh lead
and with success on mind, not thinking of failure:
I find that doorway to escape and dream,
but remaining anonymous is no adventure.

Without impromptu or consciousness,
I wake up to a sunrise which coruscates...
becoming brighter by blinding my sight,
then I become beauty-incarnate and sigh. 

Laying down with the head up on the fresh grass,
I accept another challenge to pursue life and fate...
not seeking a gloomy, clandestine place to face
ignoble fear in a cosmos which was created to elate.

Follow me and experience what makes me wake up and be as happy as a cuckoo,
touch the fragile corolla of daisies and inhale their aroma as dreamers tend to do,
and looking straight up, observe the awesome Universe so vast, beautiful and blue...
won't you take another challenge to pursue life and fate without clashing with a clue?

Details | Free verse | |

Dreams of Children, Realities of Men

As children, we all dream,
tales of magic, of mystery,
and our own imagined destinies;
we dream of future prowess, of our own fantastic wyrds –
of our glorious, important place in the cosmos.

Whether those dreams are of firemen, police,
soldiers, artists, scientists,
writers, musicians, or something that isn't there,
like superheroes or the princes and princesses of old,
we all want to be something greater, even in youth.

I, too, dreamt these childhood dreams
of glory and legend, enchantment and song;
I too felt their pull,
heeded their call and let imagination sweep me away –
for a time.

Eventually we move on from the past,
accepting its existence, its wonder, sometimes its pain,
its place in who we have since become –
and so did I, from the fanciful paths of yesterday
to the more grounded ones of today and tomorrow.

Or so I thought.

For, of late, and a litte while before,
I have been tending a magic all my own;
not the magic I'd envisioned, the kind of fire and ice,
light and fury –
the kind of word and verse.

Now I voice my thoughts in phrase and letter,
birthing a new, separate being;
a being of explanation, of concepts and sensation,
with a life all its own, on the page and in my heart –
parts of me, grown in my mind and given form as poetry.

And now I've discovered, it's this kind of magic I prefer –
the dreams of the past truly can't compare
to the realities of today;
not when I can take the barest thought, slightest inspiration,
and change it into something so much more.

Not when I've become not only myself, but a vessel,
a repository for idyllic words to come coursing through –
for my muse inhabits my mind, beside me,
forever changing my outlook and my output;
yes, that's my kind of magic.

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 | Free verse | |

Untitled #314 / The notepad

Yellow sheets, blue lines
red lines even

Details | Rhyme | |

apple sand

to time the rhyme or range of orange
when to smile and when to cringe
nothing fits but on the fringe
yet I find red yellow wonder
defining moments to unhinge
My orange dingy dinghey
the cold sea it's under
icily swelling nicely
A weighted wait
To float a boat

Details | Quintain (English) | |


During the years that I had lived
many friends I have had;
some nice, some good, some bad...
ah! being friendless is very sad!

Beside family...who else
will remember what I've achieved,
perhaps a stranger reading
my works too lucid and intense?

I have honored many unnotorious folks like humble mother,
and the ones who have touched me in ways nobody has...
having been an innovator, not much of a shaker,
readers will uncover the true meaning of my writings.

Besides family...who will take time to read them twice?
Have I moved, inspired and changed them in several minutes?
That could be so true by the interest they have shown in the poems
I've written and my wish is that they have found that voice!

I seek no praises or laurels for my creations with words so intuitive,
and if an ode were dedicated to very honored I wouldl be!
It's not being naive...not to have realized it and be crowned with victory;
and in any respectable way they wish to remember me, it's their prerogative.

Details | Free verse | |

Untitled #337 / You are invited

Man, what great dialogue is this?
He speaks directly to me.
And I am speaking to him.
All lines of communication must remain open!
You are invited.

Details | Rhyme | |

What lurks within

A mystery within the cottage sublime                                                                          Whose the villian whose the hero                                                                                 The stranger looking in a view of time                                                                            An assassin or trusting soul                                                                                         The harrows of perspectives force                                                                                     When swooning the lampoon                                                                                       Not lest the heroine of course                                                                                          When crooning the attuned                                                                                              All the while we wait to see                                                                               Doomsday or wedding day                                                                                            As for me let mystery lie where it be

Details | Couplet | |

Fundamental Questions

I can't say the catty word, much less ******?
I can say dick, prick, hard on anything but the anatomical *****?

Isn't it weird there's a lotta guys named after *****es
and very few women (I don't know one) named after ******s?

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 | Free verse | |


Eyes pierce;
words penetrate;
countenance corrodes…
pity those tough hearts
of rough masculinity
tender muliebrity.

Just think of poor God
…He dares once in a while
out of Maya-muffle
to eavesdrop His devotees’ troubles.

Got encapsulated in Her
enchanting shell, spell
…the God became a helpless manikin
caught within Her tall
woo-prison walls.

What to say
of frail mortal man;
truly gullible
to sirens’ smirks,
swings, snits and whiffs!

O’ man, O’ man…always gets tangled, wangled
and ‘woman’gled
like a fish in an angler’s net.

Details | Free verse | |

Untitled #308 / Universal gravitation and the human heart

Oh constant Things! By Newton’s law of universal gravitation,
everything in the universe is attracted to
every other thing. If only the human heart
would obey this simple principle, there would be no need
for heartbreak, for pain, for mortal strife,
for impotent words that fall on no ears that matter.

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

Untitled #322 / "What? none of these make sense!"

“What? none of these make sense!”
None of these exist!

Details | Epigram | |

Untitled #293 / Where is your mind?

Where is your mind right now?
On the paper, or the screen, I hope,
and not on these meaningless words.

Details | I do not know? | |

Quiz 7 New Clue

It's a grand thing, yes, it is.

Details | Epigram | |

Untitled #295 / Spell, pt. 2

I hope you dodged that last spell,
else you be vexed for twenty years.

Details | Free verse | |

Untitled #338 / Who can hear America singing?

Who can hear America singing?
Good for him!
Some only hear silence,
followed by the echoes of futile screams

Details | I do not know? | |

The 3 sided woman

A woman with a vision is hard to deceive.
A woman with a goal is hard to distract.
A woman with a dream is hard to please.

Details | Rhyme | |

Dawn of Misfortune

You’re the dawn of despair and gloominess
You’re the sunset that discards my gladness
You deceived me…you made me trek the road of calamity
You grieve for me…you yearn for my sympathy… but I overlook your pity

Horror strikes me, scorching away my destiny
My confidence has slowly departed from me…so what should I do?
Terror swallows me alive, now I’m begging to flee!
My self-reliance has disregarded and fled from thee…now I’m crammed with woe

Digest the emptiness that I feel deep inside
Heed to what I’m about to announce to you…
Digest the affliction that I brushed aside
Hear what I’m about to warn you about…it’s all true

You deserted me…melt the isolation that has filled us with woe
You brainwashed me…you tarnished my bliss
You captivated me…now I have nowhere to go
You terrorized me…you singed up my happiness

You’re the dawn of anguish and shame
You’re the midnight stars that burn with fame
You betrayed me…you made me cut down my garden…shedding fertility
You mourn for me…you long for my forgiveness… so I’m ready to accept your plea
What is the code that will animate your presence?
What is the code that will liquefy the ice of silence?

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 | Name | |



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

Details | Diminished Hexaverse | |

Simple Unoccupied Bench

The simple bench sits
Unoccupied now
Classic table holds
Intent to write poems

Light sweater blown
Onto yellow
Roses, walkway
Empty no one

Garden neat
Perfect plants
Fenced closed

Where is.......


("The Bench"(The Garden Of Versailles) Edouard Manet (1832-1883/French) Oil On Canvas)

Details | Rhyme | |


We are sullenly mourning
For security from the demoralizing night
I am despairingly probing
For mercy to carry us back to our divine flight

We are all wishing for infinite freedom
We are all seeking for an abundant kingdom

If we are living in pure happiness, why are we so emotional inside and out?
Why are we painstakingly tracking down a getaway away from this mystifying dilemma? What is all this venturing about?
If we are swaying in the rhythm of faultless jolliness, why are we vexing about the departure of our best friend?
It isn’t in our control…so get a grip or we'll fall!
If we build up our friendship, we'll have wounds to mend
So stop your blaming and cursing or we'll be in appall 

If we are all leaders, why are we panicking?

We are all leaders…we aren’t senseless pleaders!
So face your phobias and get out of the deserted state!
We are all leaders…we will not give in, vile deceivers!
Saunter out of sight, so we won’t meet our unsettling fate!

You meddled with our cries
So don't point fingers, you insidious devil
And forced us to believe your jaded lies
SHUT YOUR MOUTH! I don't want to consider your excuses, for our truth stands still

If we are living in pure happiness, why are we not meant to be?
If we are living in pure happiness, why are we battered and bent?
If I am living in pure happiness, why am I not free?
Could we ever discard this horrifying dilemma that pounds on us like cement?

We must act like a leader—tough and vigilant
Striving to survive!
We must mimic like a leader—buff and independent
Struggling to stay alive!

Disregard the mourning state;
Drive out the defiant enemies and make them face their damnations
So we can joyfully integrate and negotiate
You’d do me a favor to cease your supplications!  

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 | |

Not Done With You Yet

Waiting for a response
Stumbling upon it for months
Fiddling with decaying words
Unlocking birdcages,
Letting go of birds
Will I ever be let go
By troublesome guilt, 
Fluttering and squealing with joy?
Waiting for an entrance
I try to break through it for years
But I'm shattered by denied words
I'm trying to find a path to go through
But...I'm trapped by the thought of you

Details | Free verse | |

Petrifying Peace

Like a rose lacking its pedals,
My tranquility disregards its fascinating smells
Like a tree shaking off dashes of its mangled leaves 
The switch of seasons interweaves... 
You infuriate me with petrifying peace
You unlocked the gate... unsealing healing doom

Miniscule doom rummages through the town,
Wreckage brings peace, making us whole,
Stumbling down by our enrapturing gown
Polishing the mayhem, what a fine world...
You ate away at my purifying peace
You unfasten my fate... concealing chilling doom

Like a guitar tattered and out of tune,
The havoc that I observe is merely a mouldering misfortune
Like a drum busted open during the afternoon,
The peace that I yearn for has expired again...
You hesitate to gather refreshing peace
You unwind my misery state... unraveling incorruptible doom 

Details | Imagism | |

Day birth

the dawn burst thrust through
the belly of the night
wary by the abiding presence
of hosts of milkyway and the mighty moon
the morning break forth
like the chick from its shell
setting free and loose
the dictatorial sun
in a long reign with enchanting energy
and wanton warmth
behold!  to us, a new day is born

Details | Pantoum | |


Vivid imagination spins,
when one creates
a fine literary work...
life would never be happier.

When one creates,
ideas keep on flowing...
life would never be happier
with thoughts swifter than light.

Ideas keep on flowing
like water from a waterfall
with thoughts swifter than light
I am glad to reach my home.

Like water from a waterfall
that's pure and refreshing
I am glad to reach my home
without worry, sadness or doubt.

That's pure and refreshing 
as I drink it with great delight...
without worry, sadness or doubt,
to satisfy my unquenchable thirst.

I'm still writing my first Pantoum,
seeing shadows advancing...
without worry, sadness or doubt,
I pay more attention to form than rhyme.

Perched on the power line, owls stare at me
and wonder what I am doing at such hour
by this bright
vivid imagination spins.

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 | Tail-rhyme | |

Deciphered the shanty man's worthless old un

not much about the De nada 																	   	puck pigeons peck the Morse coda 																 bogus devil cant 																		nothing hidden all revealed      																	a cappella slang bell tilled          																	 no shelta to rant

Details | Free verse | |


On this parchment
I am forced to write
That of which I cannot speak

On this oh so delicate paper
I am enraptured
by my under lying thoughts

On this meager piece of material
And this once sharp pencil
I try to express the deepest of emotions

On this once blank loose leaf
That I now read to it's fullest
I find that though I wrote about nothing

On this one piece of parchment
About nothing at all it seems
Is full of something you feel, not just see

Details | Rhyme | |

Crumbs of Deception

...A poem dedicated to a character named Koreen Mae Garson (a lady, not a man)... 

Your love smokes me like a worn-out cigarette Your love blemishes me with bite marks You brush aside the crumbs…now I’m stomped on all over again Your hugs are constricting like a serpent Your hugs loses its passion…my fury vigorously sparks You abandon me cold-bloodedly, now I choke in harsh punishment Your treachery strangles me…you don't consider my screams of importance You snatch away my humility and leave me with the crumbs of shame Your arrogance plants a grave in me…you don't notice that I desire your radiance You ditch me with senseless remarks and you make me feel game You ruin my modesty You stole away my heart’s virtue You bruise my sustaining dynasty You complete me with rue Your conceitedness intoxicates me… Your arrogance underwhelm thee… You unscramble my remains and insert me with the liquid of corruption Your self-confidence leads me to never-ending fate…you disregard my joy You handle me with maltreatment/enchantment and smudge me with your provoking expression You crushed me with your cunning plans, now you made me hunt after my prized boy Your hatred penetrates me with lush, crooked trace You swap me onto the floor, now I’m smashed into smithereens Your smiles lose its splendor...your enlightenment gains disgrace You disown me carelessly…now I spilled your moldering beans You’re imprisoned by the chains of infuriating heat, Feeding off the crumbs of deception

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 | Burlesque | |

The Computer Ate My Poem

it's 7 AM, 
I've been up all night
sorting my thoughts
for my soupmates

and I came up
with a lengthy poem
which I thought 
expressed my sense
of loss, on the 
death of my dear father...

turned to be a long
narrative ballad
(or Whatever!!!)
and it took me 
quite a while...

well, just before
I was to go to part 2
it disappeared
before my sight...

did I depress a wrong
tab, in my rush
to get to bed???

all I know, is that,
somehow, my poem 
is now well dead..

so my friends,
be careful....
cause you never know...
what poems
your computer...
had rather eat than show.

Details | Rhyme | |

Rains Of Surreal

There were clouds from the sky
To be a little darker then before
Some thoughts in sacrifice to deny
The ever mist in darken haze to recall

And the walked path was an unsheltered one
He who bears the weight of unnoticed vapour
Should be realized to have unflustered thoughts come undone
For he who thinks will thoughts be flooded lesser!

That be pure and impure to see
For a path of evil may well be a course to undertake
To understand the substances of purity
To then walk perhaps the dream-fill path in wake

As the rain becomes heavier in turn
It only meant for the routes be harder to view
To be drench toward a point of no-return
Guess not the unseen road but be sure of surreal!

Mayhaps an after-rain be of rain an after
To share the affair and to embrace as one… the unknown
And to walk is the path already be taken forever
Yet the rain, hasn’t me to recall of those being shown

Details | Haiku | |

' Uni-Verse...' (Haiku # 11)

   ‘ Uni-Verse ’   Haiku  # 11

        Oh, What Universe
What Grand Word, Did God Speak First
     ... Gave Beginning – Birth !

Details | Burlesque | |

Poetry loves Porn

I hate the words
when I can not touch them
I love life more than I can say
This is the reason why
I tried to seduce Poetry

But she was a whore
Dressed like a slut
Eating like a horse
And talking like... me

I saw Her walking in the streets
She never noticed me
I eat Her just like I use to eat my brain
She never noticed me
She was in love with another Man

She never knew what love was
Because she never had a soul

Poetry loves in a porn way
She gives everything
Because she do not have to give

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 | |


Bleeding so painfully...I escape the light
 I try to forget the hardships...brewing in life
 But, it's too hard to live this life...this life
Breathing so heavily...I fade away into the night
 I try to forget my slits me like a knife
 But, it's too hard to live this life...this life
Fight away the monster in my heart
 Throw away my sorrow...Take away my wretchedness
 Burn away the hideous rage...tearing me apart
 Take away the anger...renew my joyfulness
Oh God...please forgive me...
 I long for Your cheerfulness... to set me free!
Bleeding so dreadfully...I pray for delight
 I try to pray for mercy...for this pain is too much to bear
 But it's too hard to live this life...this life...
Fighting back tears...I discover His light
 I try to pray for comfort...and I know He is there
 I pray for His scare away the strife
 And escape from the darkness
I look forward to the afterlife
 When there's no sorrow or pain...
      When there's no evilness...
   no craftiness... 
That time will come!

Details | Free verse | |

Pro Predicament

Circuitous circular departures cleverly Sequester and  
embrace Inexpressible  moments of time.

Reexamine status, prevent  consciousness apathy, 
fabricate and reflect acceptance of self. 

precisely propose  to expose fallaciously filtered 
fantastical trickery touched theories.

Turn tasteless translucent tall tales into stable, sturdy, 
structured strands and threads of reality.

Penniless pocketless Poets put the points paralleled 
and placed above onto pure white pieces of paper.

 Once they find the ramble in their role they carefully 
command,Clever creative content to appear from thin vapor.

Amusement, bemusement, a resplendent  daring drawn 
out dark dance down a solitary diabolical descent. 

Lingering Layers let love live in a finely spun web of 
lazy, lofty, lyrical linguistic letters; lost lurking spiders cant
 reach the heights that sadness fled.

Poets are pros, pronounced proponents, that precisely 
reconstruct a feelings components that fails to leave any 
audience in a stoic state of stoney discontent..... 

Though they tirelessly endeavor to gain a fans approval 
and respect, they fail in fortunes favor. 
 Yet each day they commit make their art 
when most would be right to quit. 

Anyone can become a pro poet, 
you can tell we are devoted, though it should be noted 
if that's the readers intent, not a paid pro among us can 
come close to turning our 
thoughts into rent!

Details | Free verse | |

Loss of Creativity

You reside behind my eyeballs,
but you most enjoy paralyzing my fingertips.
You feast on the thought-clots 
plugging my brain.
You see what I once saw
because you watch what is stolen from me,
as I desperately grasp at what
was digested long ago.
When will my mind be freed?
When will my imagination be reborn?

Details | Narrative | |


There was a great English novelist I truly admired since my vibrant youth,
and his name was Charles Dickens; and his classics I read and revered.
He wrote many memorable novels, and one of them, filled with truth,  
was: "A CHRISTMAS CAROL", which he splendidly narrated...
as those London's bells tolled above a foggy, busy Avenue. 

Entered in Brian Strand's contest A Literary Love Affair                             

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

Details | Rhyme | |


Perhaps it was the most unappreciative gift:
a pen and a composition book wrapped in red paper
imprinted with Santa image riding his sleight...
I expected toys I could play with after school or later.

My sisters received many gifts from leather shoes to wool hats,
and as I held that gift with perplexity, Mother asked me,
" Son, don't you like it? " " I like it, Ma " I replied disappointingly...
" One day they will make you great! She attested with eloquence.

" A teen like me was going to be great 
with a pen and a composition book?
 How could an ordinary mother have predicted the future so precisely? '
Only an astrologer, or medium could have guessed what was awaiting me! 

A few years later, a revelation came to light:
a pen and composition book appeared in my sight,
there in a brown shoe box with old photographs they laid... 
waiting for a hand to give them life without any magic wand.

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

A Youthful Girl In Cold War Part I

Deficient air I breathe in my lungs
In this world now I live, daddy's are careless
The children feeling helpless
Mother's have to play two characters
All I can see is the tears
That flow down their cheeks
Why am I disrespected by the one's who I look up to
I stick with my boys, because I never understood 
Why girls constantly hate each other 

I'm just a youthful girl in cold war
I'm constantly going through it
misjudgment and jealousy constantly bothering me
I'm just a youthful girl at cold war

Trying to fit in is so called being cool
Its just another word for being someone else fool
If they smoke, dislikes him or her
Then that person does the same
Now its all eyes on me so I have to go along too

Since I look at life at a different angle
I chose to go my own way
If my clothes ain't tight then he isn't going to like me
Being nice it's just a bad finish in the end
I guess I come last, some still say I'm just stuck in my past
As much as my pulverized heart been through 
I learned to put off love as it corker, belittlement, and depressed me for years

I'm just a youthful girl in cold war
I'm constantly going through it
misjudgment and jealousy constantly bothering me
I'm just a youthful girl at cold war

Details | Lyric | |

The toys are Broken

I dreampt that everyone
vanished without a trace
and I was the only one
wearing blue that day
never felt soo happy
never felt soo alive

I dreampt that everyone
lived in houses that were all the same
and I was the only one
who couldn't slide
never felt soo lonely 
never felt soo alive

I dreampt that everyone
was famous
and I was the only one
smiling that day
never felt soo special
never felt soo alive

I dreampt that everyone
had the same dream as me
but I was the only one
God spoke to
Never felt so righteous
never felt so alive

One room leads to the next
it goes on and on
but it just never ends
One story
alone cannot make proper sense
so they go on and on and on and on
but it just never ends
One thought
uncovers all the rest
it goes on and on and on and on
until everyone forgets
One song
breaks the code of silence
but goes on and on and on
until everyone forgets
One memory
leads to the next room
it goes on and on and on
but never makes sense

Details | Quatrain | |

Pencil Me IN

It's easy to write a dark saga
of midnight and wolfbain and you
It follows to throw in a campfire
in the winter, the cold and we two

Forsaken this landscape I'm painting
twisted like limbs of the trees,
Haunted ,the mansion is waiting
the trembling begins in our knees,

Tell us to head for the highway,
tell us to hitch hike to town,
Ah, but we will have it my way,
I'm writing this horror all down.

I'm sending you straight to the castle,
You're knocking right now on the door
It's answered by some lowly vassal
who says we may call him Igor.

He pulls us in out of the weather,
he lurches away to the right,
we huddle for safety together,
afraid of what may come in sight.

Insanely the laughter surrounds us,
but you're getting tired of the game,
I shriek that the vampire has found us,
but you knock him down with your cane.

"Now stop this and write our vacation!
Away to that new Pirate Bay.
Get us out of this bad situation,
or I'll have the Count make you stay."

So I pencil plans for Orlando,
while erasing the fiend and the slave,
Why must you go so Commando?..........
(Watch your step over Dracula's grave.)

Details | Blank verse | |

The Poet

The poet's voice, a lonely flute
From the grotto of orphaned dreams,
And Sorrow the arms which wrap him
'Til e'en they grow frail, and falter,
Thus failing, cast him down-
A writhing soul unblest
By fair Sleep's last kiss...

His word, a sword
And princely thing!
His power firm, and curse-
For his the alighting of Heaven's sighs
Or a phrase to stymie giants...

Tho his thousand sonnets tribute Roses,
Nary a one will bed him-
For his the rage of the seeking Winds
Which howl through gardened graves,
A midnight dance of madness 
By angels peopled and tears companioned...

Thus, then, he lives,
As touching the Dark,
And then the Dark awakens...

Details | Free verse | |

when eyes crawl ...

in words
         grace falls
                     from the page

falling down for quite some time
                every soft silence is falling
                        every flying dream
falls swiftly down

every enjambment
               every word
                       every note 
falls down 
   your feet

where the beat
           lifts it up 


where you dance
                 it up


and feel your heart 


where you lift your eyes
from the mud to the skies
looking like a fallen angel or a dirty saint

seeing the words 
in the clouds and the rain
in the stars and galaxies filled with dust and fire
in the wars of men and the gathering of moths
in the sweetest honey mead and your broken guitar
in the sea and the wind and the shadows of the street
in the secret in your eyes

where you

                       see the spaces

                                     where my pen gently aches

Details | Free verse | |

Truthifiction of the bible

The author of the bible must have been god
for Jesus himself never wrote it
and i wonder if Jesus truly existed
then why are we not studying timeless works of art written by the first people
that learned how to read and write?
Another question plagues me
why are there legacies of family traditions of stories in families talked about
handed down from generation from generation
that yes your gret great grandmother was a witch burnt at the stake
or your great great grandfather was a black slave
but why I ask do we never hear those who brag 
through the testimonies of legacies of stories around campfires
that did you know your ancestor touched the hand of christ?
and this story of those days has been in our family for generations?

no one using logic how the world works?
true how quickly we forget
even war veterans pass down terrors of war tortures and terrors of such things
so why did we stop passing down the story of a god?

Is it because the author of the bible was god?
and he knew everthing that happened with jesus and Job
cain and Abel?
or was it just that one day there was a belief
and it was accepted
replaced an old belief
and murdered the old
and we praise it now?

Is this proof we are brainwashed?
gullible even
the fact that the old religion has more stories handed down in generations 
in family 
than this supposed god
who taught us all how to read or write?
I'm sure if i was there to be the first people to learn how to read and write
id write down some stories of the lessons i was taught
tell everyone i knew
of the man i had met who taught me
if the bible is true
and there were that many witnesses

I know id pass it down to my children
and my grandchildren
nieces and nephews

Details | Rhyme | |

Where's The Blame

                     "Where's The Blame"...

   I'm sorry for many years, I've done you wrong
We argued so much and I cried many times for you.
But you never came home or sang your favorite song.
I know that I had mistakes and I  feel like a fool.

Night and day, I had to find a way to get you back,
My hurt and pain was intense that I could not be here
I know now that you are gone and that's a true fact.
For many years and countless days, I cried my tears!

If there was one wish for a lifetime with you, once more
A dream of many treasures, wrapped in harmony and love
But chances were at risk and another, who you adored!
Please keep me safe like my guardian angel from above.

I have many regrets and don't know who or where's the blame
And the values of love are honesty, respect, caring, with trust!
It was the longest love that I had with you, or was it just lust?
For I am here, you are there, where's the blame, "oh what a shame"!

Yolaine Armitage 10/ 7/12

Details | Epigram | |

Untitled #292 / Words weave a spell

Words weave a spell,
binding men’s souls to action.
Who said sorcerers and witches belonged to other worlds?

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? | |

Another Clue to No. 13

There is a conection between this season and his talents.

Details | I do not know? | |

Quiz No. 9 Clue

In someplaces it comes in many colors.

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 | 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 | Alliteration | |

The Prime Directive Quiz ( P D Q ) or Prolix Drama Queen Part Two

and Par-Policy:  Dump Rotted Produce…
and Pitch-Pit-Grain- Pro-Ruse

It Was Due To Prior-Parent’s Vain-Disobey, 
so They Diminished, That-Dare-Day…
The Delectable…
 and Passed Up The Palatable –
 Main… Held-Accountable
Course (so  not  hard !) 
But They Failed to Avoid: 
 The Ditch, The Decline, The Devoid
They Deformed; Distorted… 
and Perished, at Path of Disdain- Deported!
Prithee, Who Wants to See… A Dashed-to-Pieces Pottery?
Not even-Periphery-me!... It’s No Longer Picture-Pretty 
Despite Protocol-Deficiency… ‘til I get a Decent Setting Plate
On Broken Dresden- my Pheasant-Dinner Won’t be Ate

And Now… Disorder of The Day… 
is Devious, and Double-Dismay
…  Disgrace, Depression… 
and A Putrid-Depraved-Puke-Stain-Progression
 Plunged into Disease and Death; 
Some Plummet and Pose-Deranged-Stealth
Percolating Panic… 
and Picking Up Pride-Plagues- Still-Pandemic
from-Cain’s Prozac-Paddock … Pathetic !

Though, All Are Not Dissidents-Decayed… 
Deteriorated …  or Dastardly-Dross-Sprayed
 Applaud- When Prodigal-Lost is Found, 
and Those ‘Punching-Back-At-Pangs-Bane’ Pound!
By Adhering to The Dedicated-Drive, 
of The Deft-Guardian-Defender’s Eyes
Who Points Where Our Polished-Pebbles’ Sling, 
Put-Practice-Ping-Ping-Aim (ing)
Dove(ing) Over to Dangle The Desist… 
or Meet Thy Downfall Pretenders-Risk…

For We Pummel Problems… 
and Dent and Pelt Puzzle-Plight-Chains (Pop ‘em!) 
Definitive Deeds, Decorous… 
Meant to Disable Dynamite Pipes-Porous 
To Prevent Our Pulverized-Maim 
and Proffer:  A Predicament-Slain

Our Pilgrimages In Pursuit of Paragon-Virtue… 
Must Make Distribution or Divesture:
the Property… of Pomposity
Pageantry… Profits and Desperate-Popularity
and don – Parsimony, and  Penury, 
Pariah, Pest-Control and Peculiarity
yet Pleasurably, we have heirloom-Pendants and Pence-a-Few …
and Pearl-Gates and Doubloons and Dew Drops Too
‘Cause, Priests and Prophets Must Pray for The Reign…
and for Pre and Post-Op-Apocalyptic–Novocain ! …

Details | I do not know? | |

Quiz No. 14

It sounds like a laundry detergent.

Details | I do not know? | |

A drift

My thoughts are empty Vessals.
Floating in a deep dark Lake I Think.
The waves are not Connected.
There everywhere it Seems.
One moment I am Shipwrecked.
Others as though I Sink.
I am hearing many Voices.
Its pirates so to Speak.

Details | Free verse | |

Untitled #199 / Another 99

Another 99 poems
closer to the truth!
I am catching up!

Details | Free verse | |

annointment to be realised.....first two quantrains

Sitting alone at night back in secret study; truth
blinded voice hiding hell
believe truth
it is placed on back the brass tripod.
right great healthy you
A slight flame comes out of the hell emptiness and
blinded mysteries believe gullibility
makes back successful that which truth should hell not be believed in vain.
spirits hell confuses you masks 

The wand in the truth hand is placed in the middle of the back tripod's legs.
away curing obsessing
With water he sprinkles both the hem of his garment and his foot back.
sometimes truth dictates them
A voice,you fear: hell he trembles in his robes.
give diplomatic minds back
Divine splendor; believe the God sits nearby.
Truth dividing back hell innocent works

Details | Alliteration | |

A Poem of No Purpose Done for the Sake of Writing

Dry skin caused by frozen winter winds
Caused by over washing
Too much caution given to cleanliness
The rough ridges distinctly defined
Will soon go away with care and time
These epidermal deserts
Are greatly in need of an oasis
Some lotion for lubrication
To make the redness in the deserts turn to tan
And now I wonder, why?
Why am I writing about my hands?

Details | Free verse | |

Faux Fur Jacket on a Hot Day

Starlight, star fight

I hope no one cries tonight
I hope that life 

is more than the sun

and more than that book I read

about the horses,

more than the dirt on the floor,

sitting there like a 

fairy dust covers a flower.

The flower blows in the wind

and I weep 

for the day that comes when

life no longer 

has an end

or really a beginning.

This jacket is itchy

and I itch it like my mind

hurts, it hurts when I think of 

how sick I am of

running away from 

the life that is coming

to me.       

Details | Rhyme | |


glimpse of blitheful calmness
Haunted the garden I nourished so well
sense of fulfillment lingered in my thoughts 
grasped a positive, enigmatic idea
And planted it on this conceptual notebook

gratisfying radiance showers peace, I must confess
It gave immortality to my garden I protected-- it's quite swell
piece of cherishment hovered in my thoughts 
clutched an audaciously, cryptic idea
And recorded it on this invigorating poem book!

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Love hurts

When I hurt,you hurt, damn this cruel world that doesn't know whether to let love be or 
die; my heart yearns to be loved but my insecurities begin to get in the way I refuse to 
be the one feeling my emotions are void. How do I love someone who only makes me feel 
like I'm the only one who cares, I feel only as if I've loved myself? I don't wanna be 
alone but I don't want my heart to be played around with like a play on words to make me 
believe a LIE! I shed my emotions like the the rain pours, heavily then lightens up and 
again begins back at a steady flow. Make up your mind why did it have to be so true that 
love is blind, hidden away in the darkness who only know if I'm being lead in the right 

Details | Bio | |

poetess song

My life is full of chaos and mess I can't fix but I wish I could, and leaves me to ask:
Why me? How am I any different from anybody else except my appearance,besides that I have
feeling just like you and they can get hurt just like your can. I can't express myself the
way I want it because all my word are jumbled up in my head and going faster ythan my
hands can type everything I mean to say; if I forget to say something then this poem is in
vain and I have defeated the purpose for writing at all.

Details | I do not know? | |

"Existence, to the most abstruse level..."

Is it just me, or did I really approach this the wrong way,

I could just forget about it, but it lingers in my mind,

I never thought I would feel this badly,

As if life isn't enough of a burden anyway,

Don't pity me, don't offer your condolences,

That only makes me feel even more horrid,

Breath, heart, sight,

All essential things,

Yet cause you so much misery and woe,

Hitherto, I have not a single regret,

Because life is kind, in its own perplexed sort of way,

And that is what gets me through the day...

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 | Epigram | |

With-in the Spell

Of all the stories that us poets tell
Soul's exposed, Some of Heaven – Some of Hell

You know I'm posting this for
Brian's contest but I'm totally
lost on this one - Could some
one let me know if I'm even
in the ballpark, Thanks

Details | I do not know? | |

horrible Dream

Deep down in my soul,
Im taken by fright,
Too scared to be here,
but Im just too polite.

I woke in a horrible dream,
It made me toss and turn,
I woke to scared to be seen,
It's a shame, I feel like Im burned

True love or true lust,
paranoia too,
I thought that I could trust,
You and only you.

I woke in a horrible dream,
Its was so real
I hope that in this dream
That eventually I will heal.

Details | Couplet | |

Untitled #129 / The more I read

The more I read, the more I write
the less I like to sleep tonight

Details | Sijo | |

Antique Store Find

A wall of printer's blocks, in rows, in ink, in metal, wood
Jumbled letters, thoughts exploded, chaos in unsteady line's eyes
with dusty vacancy slots formerly spelling: "I love you".

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 | Prose Poetry | |

Mother Of Waters

Mother of Waters
you're peace and tranquility;
how I long to be as free.

Oh Mother of Waters,
mighty! untroubled, and true!
change me to be just like you.

You have given us life
then have taken it away...
seen battles lost and won
through the nights until the day.

But who can say
what controls your silence?
And who can say 
what commands your violence?

Sweet Mother of Waters
graceful, mystic, serene...
who can know what you have seen?

You have given us life
then have taken it away...
seen battles lost and won
through the nights until the day.

but who can say
what controls your silence?
And who can say
what commands your violence?

Dear Mother of Waters,
great mirror of the dusk and the dawning...
calming, soothing, everlasting...
how I long to be as free!

Change me to be just as thee.

Details | Free verse | |

Quiz Meg-a-Clue

Nice try Meg, answers-no, no, and Ho,ho,ho

Details | Free verse | |

Psychosis of the muse

such a secret important word
danced around verbally
conditioning you the way they want
for utmost power
if i had it my way
i would have you ring a bell everytime their secret word
tweaks you out

I wonder what the secret word is...
everytime i hear it, i cant help but feel this way
crack a smile and drool
and then get bent out of shape

Not like you owe me anything
cause you don't
but alas
i can't help but care
this is affecting me
and i refuse to tell you
your secret word

does it make me dangerous...
start reading from the dictionary
and i'll show you dangerous

one secret word
they all sing around for the one
whoever the one is
in a world full of number 2's
we're all number 2
to the one

Obliviousness rocks
unfortunately you can't allow yourself
this ignorance
cause you my friend
are brainwashed
but alas
the villified ignorance speaks for itself

quite an oxymoron paradigm shift riddle
i wonder what the word is
I suppose i'll figure it out
cause my life depends on it

momentary hero
i am making you blind
present you with a riddle to make you smarter
but alas
i can only show you the riddle
i wouldn't be able to tell you

one word
such an intricate word
lost in the matrix of mentally conditioning yourself
when you ough to ring a bell

It's gonna happen now
you will have the desire to puirchase a bell
and ring it 
a lot
because of this word
whatever it is....

the psychosis of the muse
another part of society blackmailed
and scapegoated
and used as a weapon
cause we are all number 2
to the one

Details | Prose Poetry | |

To Consider the Alligator

I wouldn't be scant. Its codfish lies to pull ferociously all up in its cube. The forks stomped the ponies. Why did your 
goodness lift our leaf? What do ideas ride like? You sound like that laugh. You persuasively divide. All obscene feet 
straddled under his lingust. What is all over the drifting harpsicord? Exude yourself betwixt the calamity. I will be snoring 
impudent cities. What is through that fatility? What is beside my heel? No fountain pens, please. I could be spitting 
underneath your cognizance. Boldly you malnourish the fence. You usually ventillate. Bend your travesty. Thirty-five 
damp beets are sophmorically trampled. You will run beside gods. You look like a surreal brevity. You will boil inside 
caftans. I diddle. I shouldn't have been hopping beyond your vertebre. You will thrust along protests. The pedestrian left 
by our digit. His rabbit accepts a serpent. His floppy money was hydrating with her heart. I love piston. Her list of fury 
resonated next to the thunder. You smell like morse code. His slinky magical mirror was feeling all over my Swahili. You 
will snap without tiger boots. You like waxy provisions. Hi, I'm a stormy panhandler. With your mildew were eight 
blogging skaters. My philanthropy whisps like a plasma. Sufficiently I snap. You remind me of every neat-o flamingo. 
You explicate mates. Drip your disgust. No car keys, please. A combustion tickles an insertion. Hi, I'm a cold cole. You 
sheepishly evade. You finally exude. All your abyss' are belonging to us.

Details | I do not know? | |

Clue no.2 for quiz no.8

Somewhere you did fashion this  feeling I imagine.

Details | Free verse | |

my life defined

a series of acts
with a few different scenes
and the script is me knowing yet praying 
that it wont be
a tragedy

Every act i face a series of tests
each test given a name called a scene
I repeat these scenes like life lessons
and when i get them right
like a game show 
i move on to the next act

How many acts are in a Shakespearean tragedy anyway
will i be strong enough
when in this test no matter how near or far from home 
that's always where I'm pointed

I walk out one door
to find myself on set still
outside this time so it should appear
another door i walk into leads me inside
but yet on a yacht going far away
and the actors are always there
asking me dilemmas
choose this choose that
and then I'm right back at the beginning
flashback making it all make sense
like a dram of circles inside my head

the foreshadowing is thick
for we all know the circle routine of the circle of doors
that lead us around on the set
from act one of home to outside
then faraway and jail
to yacht to flashback home again

what is the lesson to be learned
depends on the actors
and the foreshadowing is thick
story lines story lines

this is my life
the show must go on
and i sit here wasting time to write
the actors of my life were never friends
and proof for look they are all on strike
leaving me to walk these circles in my mind
alone on this set blind

open the door
sunrise blue bright outside sky
open the door
I'm on  yacht
open the door
I'm in jail
open the door
I'm in outer space
open the door
I'm home again
and the foreshadowing in this scene is clever but oh soo thick
as i walk in circles by myself
the story seems to stick

how can i make their guts crawl and plan to fail soo tragicly
no one would intervene and it would make us all sick?

Details | Free verse | |

Untitled #267 / LOOK

“And remember D.ick and Jane books
and the first word you learned – the 
biggest one of all – 

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 | Free verse | |

The Portfolio

If you look inside
You may be amazed at what you find…

Maybe some small imperfections
Yet, heading in the right direction…

There is one, who does not boast…
But, has endured much and stays afloat…

Having peace in mind
Remains smiling most of the time…

Having not time to stop and gloat
Seeking, to help others remain afloat…

Continue to look inside
You, just may be amazed by what you find…

Details | Burlesque | |

Tom's Tid Bits (Yet Again!)

How come they call it Labor Day when nobody works?
And why Pool-Table?  Where's the diving board?  the water?
How can you play "Draw-Poker" without paper and pencil?
Do Negroes really have bigger knees?
And Flashlight: A bright stage-light to highlight naked joggers?
I went to IHOP; I was so disappointed, the bunny was not in.
Is Racquet-Ball really that noisy?
Were Sanitarium Napkins designed for a psych ward??
And Condominiums: good Lord, they advertise prophylactics?
And Near-Beer; how close do you have to be?
And Poetic Terminology- methods to end a poem?
And Medicine Ball; how do you know what it's dispensing?
Bi-Polar? I got mine free.
Feedback?  Is it true some people have their mouths behind them?
Dry-Runs?  Diarrhea without the usual Sh_t??
Penn & Teller?  A bank teller's sordid affair with a chained down bank pen. 
(Caution, Sadism and Explicit Ink scenes)
Burn a CD?  What kind of moron is gona burn his Certificates Of Deposits?
Satellite?   To help one mount a horse in the dark?
Athlete's Foot?  Those who say they have Athelete's Foot should be prosecuted 
for maiming ball players.
Milk Of Magnesia?  Who is she?
Country Fair?  I'll wait for the Country Good!
How come it's a plus if a vacuum cleaner sucks?
Sometimes I feel left in the dust; I mean, even spiders have web-sites!!
Sasquatch?  A hairy ape-like creature who sat on, and crushed, his Timex watch.
Lunatics?  I hope Nasa provides our next moon explorers with insect repellant.
Politically Correct?  An oxymoron for sure!
Botswana?  A neighbor wiyh yacht-envy.
Coconut?  An insane piece of chocolate.
Congolese?  A structured rental agreement for certain Africans.
Decuple?  Releasing railroad cars.
Desultory?  Removing snide remarks.
Devote?  Removing one's ballot.
Dormouse?  A rodent tending the door at a rat nightclub.
Drag Queens?  What a horney King does with his reluctant wife.
Episode?  When a farmer named Epi plants his crops.
Fiddlesticks?  Frozen fish product with musical abilities.
Gnomish?  A knish for Jewish gnomes.
Mothball?  A part of a moth's reproductive organs.
I saw a commercial recently for "Extenze", to make "a certain part of a man larger"
However, I misread the dosage, and took far too many.  Now I have to drag "that 
certain part of a man's body" along the floor behind me.
I had a friend who tried it too....but it seems to have had a misdirected effect; now 
he has a 6 inch long big toe.  

more tomorrow


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 | I do not know? | |


Why is time so slow?
Why is day so long?
Why is hour so complicated?
Why is minute so wrong?
I can't help but to think
Why this world's so weird,
It's kind of like something
That I have always feared.
You sit and wonder why
You were brought here in the first place,
Not to only think
That it's kind of like a race.
To see who lives,
To see who dies,
To see who whispers,
Or tells all lies.
You never know what happens
In the very end,
It's time to end this complication
There's no more to be said.

Details | I do not know? | |


From the Greek Charis = gift, grace, favor, charm
A name for the gratuitous gifts of the Holy Spirit
As they are described
For example in Corinthians 12:6ff
The gift of healing
Miraculous powers
Speaking in tongues and
The gift interpreting them
Firmness in faith and so on
Also included are the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit


Details | Rhyme | |

Writing Rhymes

                                  For her writing is writing.

                                  For her words come easily,
                                          like breathing or blinking, naturally.

                                  Sometimes while doing chores,
                                           words and stanzas come flying at her.

                                  Sometimes like a wave,
                                           the words wash over her.

                                   Like a dream,
                                            lines and stanzas make shows in her head.

                                  Like clothing,
                                            words seem to wrap around her, keeping her warm.

                                  We love poetry,
                                              her and me, me and her, her and I.

                                   Poetry makes me her and her me,
                                                               we, together, write poetry.

Details | I do not know? | |


In early hours she types 
pages she's felt and known
beyond words ,elements ,time 
What has been ,what may become 
Encircled in body and soul
Connected rhythm and rhyme 
Picks beyond words she writes 
To unwritten voyages she roams ...

Details | Free verse | |

The book the wizard wrote part four

one day I’ll write this book 
with every possible war in it 
with every possible happy endiNoticedng 
every possible love connection every possible philosophy and holy and evil 
worship in it 
every good and bad intention
Now you got me goin
That you know nothing at all
Gotta do it my way if id oit all
And feel nothing cause you don’t know 
and at the end of leading the believer through the streets 

right left forward back 
One way ticket back to Eden
I reveal this book is perfect but you are going to pass it on to the next generation 
and unfortunately it cant stay intact 
I wanna fly
I wanna fly

With my liscencer to love and memories chained with goldFly

so tear out what you will 
Whose loving me?
will you leave it a book to rise against the government 
a conspiracy amongst the pages I have written in the riddles 
to pass amongst the hands
Tried to break me with goodbye 
will you leave the pages of love and inner wisdom to humble the next generation 
that you didn’t see the future possibilities coming 

And I cant sleep at night
will you tear out the truth that this was all really Gabrielle’s dance 
and test for the souls to see who would climb the highest mountain 
and who would crawl with the royalty at his feet
Fast hearted angels
Hurting the easy 
and in this book all these dreams of houses and statues and gardens 

Don’t know what I’m doing
other realities to create and frontiers of lasting of propaganda sand mans plans 
and utopias and how to get there 

 The wings of changing
 Limitless operating smoothly
Listening to the bounding brook
Changing everything
Today I hold my head up high
Smoothly operating
Sitting in the limits that keep me here
And I'm in this shell
And you make fun or threaten me still

Details | List | |

Tom's Mental Driveling (Or Tom's Tid Bits)

What makes a beer lager?  By not being smaller?  
And I'm lookin' at a botttle of Heineken,
Boy, Ken's heinie must be sore!!
And just what was Pac-man packin"???
A thirty-eight??
Must one pledge first to get a club foot??
Someone told me GatoreAid had
electric lights....
But mine wouldn't light up.

Don't think I have given up on the open quiz-
Another clue: Who says lightning can't
strike twice!!??

You know you're likely in for a bad day,
When someone steals your burgler alarm.

My aluminum rap won't sing about
"the hood"!!

Details | Ballade | |


They had no army standing tall
no navy with it's mighty ships 
no cannons blasting cannonballs
they had no need for all of this. 
They lived in buoyant, peaceful bliss. 
They were joyful, and seldom sad. 
Great were they for poets they had. 

They had no master, but for God. 
A charitable and unselfish race 
no punishment, no prisoners to flog. 
They shared their love and with grace 
and welcomed all to this graceful place. 
They weren't boastful, or brightly clad. 
Great were they for poets they had. 

They fought no battles, waged no wars 
on them the sun would always shine.
They never sailed for distant shores.
They had no need for gold to find. 
They had no clocks for which to wind, 
a loving group thankful and glad. 
Great were they for poets they had.

They were all we could hope to be 
a grand model for society. 
They were brave and strong, kind and free. 
A true vision of morality, 
yet never existed -in reality. 
So be thankful as the world goes mad
we’ve been blesed with the poets we’ve had.

Details | Free verse | |

Untitled #290 / A letter every day

I will add a letter every day
to the wall of my prison cell
until the true story of the world is written

Details | I do not know? | |

The brush that doesn't paint (2005)

It’s in my head but my head won’t paint
The brush breaks and the colour is too faint
There’s a missing screw
Faulty parts where confidence won’t glue
When will my mind act rather than think?
When will my words be longer than a blink?
Its so easy to write
But when I go to talk my lips are tight

Details | I do not know? | |

Heart Of Love

There once was a heart made of stone,
Made hard by the life that its known,
But the older it grew
The more pain it went through,
And was made to do so on its own.

There once was a heart made of steel,
Made cold by the love it can't feel
All tears that were shed
For a love left for dead,
Now forever waits for love to heal.

There once was a heart made of gold,
Made out of a love that's grown cold,
But no mater what's tried
All the love held inside
Still resides beneath riches untold!

Details | Free verse | |


Does it bother you to be alone?
Only when I sleep.
Your dreams are nightmares of death.
But I can't help it.
Why do I suffer more than most?
Nobody knows,nobody cares.
But is it wrong to wish they did?
Was I destined to suffer?
It makes me want to be alone.
So you dont cause others the pain you know?
You are loved.
I know I just can't feel it.
The more I love the more I feel alone.
I don't think I belong here.
Death can ease your pain.
I want to live.
But if you do...
You will hurt them.
I just want to know why.
Why what?
Why do I suffer?
Why are they glad to see me suffer?
Do they hate me that much?
I know I'm not perfect,
I just want to feel,
To feel like I matter,
Like I'm loved,
Like I'm not alone.
Iam hated.
You deserve it.
What you can do with words...
What can I do with words?
Write your feelings down.
Even if someone cared
They couldn't help me.
Why can't someone care about me like I care about them?
Your a psycho.
I know.
Your heart is black.
I know.
Then how can you love anything?
But I do.
Doesn't that mean anything?
Not to them.

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? | |

Liquid Fears

I cry,
When I cut and bleed,

I scream,
When soap make suds,

I whimper,
To the sound of flushing toilets,

I thunder,
When my cereals are wet,

I yell,
At seeing a clear drop of water in a mug,

I faint,
In the wettest of weathers,

I curl up in a foetal,
When the janitor mops the floor,

I wish I lived in a desert!
Beside sandy weather,
And have pet vulture,
Picking the best parts of me!
Because my life,
Is not a day at the beach

Details | Free verse | |

Untitled #241 / Integrate this

Integrate this!
You must transcend transcendence!
And then transcend the transcendence
of transcendence!

Details | Free verse | |


In Opposite World
Where a human prove to be bold
Lies a reflection
Of magic and perfection

Love and Hate
Yin and Yang
Light. And Dark
The story to be told

An Image in the glass
Iimitating himself
for better or worse
and no remorse

Mirror Mirror on the wall
Whose the fariest of them all

Details | I do not know? | |

A Winner!!!

quiz No. 6; Shar nails it on first try (reincarnation)
Quiz no. 5; From 8/21 I still show as open

Congratulations Shar!!!
I'm impressed!!

Details | I do not know? | |


What goes on in the gist of his mind?

He anxiously awaits the moment to hold his first love again,
to confine her in his palm and formulate a rhyme so fine,
a line so devine that when the array of stanzas
intertwine a quatrain is solified....
formed and cultivated-
born and recreated-
It's inconceivable to knock a rhyme off it's axis
as this echo of Aeschylus passes thy passion to the masses
repeatedly asking Jesus of Nazareth
for the endless tenacity on a regular basis with tastes of mastery....
formed and cultivated-
born and recreated-
Whatever this talent wrote last dawn had the tendency
of the late Edgar Allen Poe it spawned through his misery.
He breeds with prominent loves readers aw at his little seeds
that endlessly inspires blossoming writers charmed by his poetry.
formed and cultivated-
born and recreated-

What goes on in the gist of his mind?

Details | I do not know? | |

Quiz No. Nine

Our Mitsress of Quizes, Sharon, has come close.

Details | I do not know? | |

Thanks and Comments

Thank everyone who responded to my daily insanity today.  A few quick notes;
Vince- thank God we have people like you to defend the country, and keep the 
cops from eatting ALL the donuts. You had me rollin'!
Sandra- what seperates the two?  Maybe they are head and tails on the same 
Sharon- yes, when it comes to Quantum Physics, I too like it in small quantums.
Much of it is counter-intuitive, like most marriages.
Ps- I like my sushi well done.
Happy day to all, tom.

Details | Blank verse | |


Soothing, calming, exciting, fun.
Loving, laughing, living life.
Sadness, death, anger, and hate,
An exciting adventure awaits.
Moving, touching, inspiring, and such.
An intresting mystery haunting your thougts.
The fantastic future is new and different yet,
The past is familiar and warm.
Whatever your type-
Literature is the paving stone that lights up life.

Details | Free verse | |


The word and meaning
of love was replaced with live
by somebody upsidedown
turning the word live into evil....

Then,not being too smart
replaced a couple of letter's
L-VE ......L-VE ,
took the "O-h-h " from love,
put in the evil " I "....

So,we keep looking back
in a reversal of thought
trying to figure out  what
went wrong and why ,
it's no wonder we 
have difficuties and can only hope
for a peaceful future.........

spelled backward's

EVE....sacred feminine,matriarch

Details | Free verse | |

Crooked crooks, babbling brook

In this crooked chair i sit
at this crooked table
at this crooked desk
and write my crooked thoughts
looking out the crooked window
out onto the crooked crooked street
thinking about how crooked the world is
when suddleny is top and realise
the crooked people arent crooks
everything is crooked
crooked jails
crooked hospitlas
crooked business men lawyers and politiicians
crooked churches crooked steeples
crooked believers crooked people

it was perfect perfect and crooked
crookedly perfect
perfect people
perfect houses
perfect airplanes
and perfect yachts
perfect make me sick 
keeping up with the joneses
perfect white teeth
perfect bodies
perfect hair
perfect health
thwey werent crooked?
were they?

croooked like me?
crooked like them crooked in a world full of rooked people and the crookedest 
thing to do was to stand straight
and make a show of it!!

whose going to replace all of this crooked ness and turn this beautiful now?

Details | Free verse | |


Ever wonder 
how they think
they way the gears turn
why they say what they say
what they are thinking
the thoughts in their minds
how they function
why people do the things they do
i think about my mind
i think about the things i do
i relate my self
to others 
when i speak i too
wow why did i say that
what was i thinking
but each word
each movement
has a reason
has a story
the non verbal signs
the faces and looks
i have a reason
but yet
i still watch 
and i still wonder
why do they do the things they do
are their gears put together 
different than mine
do they not feel the same as i
should they?
when i write
i write my emotion
my feelings at that moment
i let it out
i let it go
same with my moods
my words
i dont hold back
but i should
so why do we 
and do
these things
do we ever truely think about
the outcome
the end rusult?

Details | Free verse | |

The blind Slide

do as i do
not as i say
don't do either just go your own way
say what i said
not what i did
are you following?

Do as i do
not as i say
don't do either
just go your own way
say what i said
not what i did
are you following?
good .

I'll say what you say
not what you did
are you following
i'll Do what You do
but Not whay You said
i won't do either
I refuse to be lead

I'll say what i want to say
but copy what you did
is someone following?
you'll do what i DO
not what you said
i won't do either
but i find myself being lead
i'll say what you want me to say
But i won't do what you did
someone's following
don't ....swoitch
do wht they do
then say what they say
but don't do either
or you'll give yourself away

They'll do what you do
And say the things you say
They'll do either
to make you go away
say what i said
then do what i did
don't listen to either
Have you stopped following?

Details | Free verse | |

A Precious Jewel Is Missing

Somehow, a Ruby
Disappeared from the Royal Treasury,
The King and Queen heart-broken,
Royalty is rich, you think,
But that was no little token,
They prized that jewel
Above their diamonds,
All other Royal possessions,
The castle walls can crumble now,
That theft now their obsessions

So if the Ruby is returned,
All will sing with joy,
That goes for the KIng and Queen,
Down too the smallest girl and boy.

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 | Free verse | |

The writer

Minutes turn to hours,
as the clock ticks onwards;
still the paper before me
remains crisp, white – untouched.

My right hand is now cramped,
from it’s gripping my pen
and the notation on my pad,
slowly bringing alive my thoughts.

Every scribe I write becomes structured,
I stop to think before every word;
look back over what I have written,
disjointed, yet I know it all.

A play on my script,
tweaking here and there.
Informing every thought I record,
bringing brilliance for my virgin page.

Words form sentences,
pictures are painted; a masterpiece of art,
breathing life to my work,
to be realized by many.

I transfer my scribe,
to my neat sheet waiting.
Ink flows smoothly, a pleasure to see.
Release washes relief over my tense form.

Midnight strikes, not long left now,
before I can lay my pen to rest
and bid ‘Goodnight’,
to another fulfilled and worthy day.

Details | Free verse | |


Robot ici 
There is a robot sitting ici on this computer 
He has a name and number but no freedom of religion 
He is soon taken from his places that he goes 
Big frog hopping in a little jargon pond 
Working on his nothing to complete  his daytime job 
Of standing on his pocket leaning overbearing moment of decay and death 
somewhere forgotten to be kept 
How many people am eye how many people must eye be 
Everyone is crazy in this new millineum of time 
Am eye the robot baseball player the batter up and pitcher 
Am eye still the cop the undercover thriller 
Am eye only the dishwasher in my white apron getting so wet and dirty 
Am eye the papermill employee scooping big heaping shovels of decay 
Am eye the dairy man giving all the milk away in bottles full of cow 
This robot was once human once full of life 

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 | I do not know? | |

Clue to Quiz 12 and 11

Quiz 12)- He'd probably like Wes Craven.

Quiz 11)-Maybe he's a member of Sgt. Pepper's Band

Quiz 13)-Strange eyes he never denies.

Details | Ode | |

Clues, Clues, Clues!!!!

On11- He may be sad, you may not be.
On 14- If it were a detergent, Billy Mays would be a natural!
On 13- His picture will appear soon, and often.

Details | Free verse | |

Somebody Let Me Know!

Please advise me if I have used up my allowable quota of writes for today.

Details | I do not know? | |

Tom's Challenge; Think This Through..

If I is what I was, was I what I is?  If I was what I wasn't, wasn't what I is what I is? 
What if I wasn't what I is, but I is what I wasn't?  If I wasn't what I wasn't, is I what I 
is what I was?  Well, if I wasn't what I wasn't am I what I wasn't what I is?  Was I 
is what I wasn't, was I what I was?  Okay, what if I was what I was, was I what I is 
what I was?  What I was is what I is what I wasn't, so therfore I wasn't what I was, 
or was I?  Was what is what what I was?  Was what I is is what I was?  Wasn't 
what I wasn't what I wasn't?  Was I was, I was if I was what I was?  What wasn't 
what I is what I wasnt what I was?  What was what I was, what I was?  Was what 
I wasn't what was what I I was when I wasn't?

Had enough?  I wasn't even warmed up, I just was what I was.

Details | Alliteration | |


Blazing across telephone lines
barreling in brazen fury
determined to defy time

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 | I do not know? | |

Quiz 12 Winner!!!!

Edgar Allen Poe(lice)
In a startling Photo Finish- Shar beats John Heck in a matter of mere minutes!!!
Congratulations!!   You two appear to be true puzzle masters.  I am impressed!!

Details | I do not know? | |

Another Quiz, Number 9, and more clues to 5 and 7

First, new clue to No. 5-  Some bosses like to manage like this.
Second, new clue to No. 7- Can the weak live at peace with the strong?

And Now:  Quiz Number 9:

It's a mysterious enigma, but maybe some later clues will help shed some light 
on the correct answer.

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 | |

5th line 3rd stanza

Every poem he wrote
on every page of his book
in the fifth line of the third stanza
a mistake
a spelling mistake
pointing out some word or just the letter

to him the missing letters spelled a word
the added letter spelled another
and the words the letters were found among 
or without were sentences

If you ask me
in the fifth line and third stanza
one mistake per page to hide a paragraph
who would do that
what wcshould it say?
and would it be worth it at all to read it at last?

the final chapter of the book
and there you are left with all the clues of how to read the ending
through spelling mistakes and missing letters to find words
5th lines and 3rd stanza and what it all means

this literary genius sure had his work cut out for him

Details | Ode | |

A cherished book

The best books have a little
love in them. Whether it be
a taped spine or a
half-creased cover
a forgotten dog-ear or
a few margin-scribbles
a browning of the pages
or perhaps a signature
the more time a book spends
in the company of men
the better it learns how to tug
at their heartstrings.

Details | Free verse | |

Untitled #250 / Why I write

“Why do you write, Jesse?”
I honestly don’t know.
“Struggle to sketch the flow that already
exists intact in the mind”?
It’s spontaneous. It’s a habit. It’s a compulsion.

Details | I do not know?, I do not know? | |

Mirror Smoke

Mirror Smoke

This is one of those miserably sodden days of sinus congestion
Forcing my writing soul back against the wall to unleash itself
to speak out against senseless multiplication
In that timeless frustration of controlled freedom
We of the twenty first century call the rat race
Swept along in the floes and flows of like minded souls
As each struggles to assert itself before spinning
Once again into the maelstrom of suburban self esteem
and dogmatted dignity
The age of the big commute is winding to a close
Grinding into the sands of time 
As people realize there’s nowhere left to run
No little piece of heaven away from madding hordes
Education has dashed itself to pieces on the stoned walls of liberalism 
Pieces of books on Shakespeare, endless pieces of books on Shakespeare
Spin away in the current of present racing day
Did no one listen? Could no one read between the lines?
Where is the Nostre Damus of today to wave his upright lance?
laughing at this cruel cosmic joke
Methinks man doth multiply trying to unravel mirrored sunlight
Beget and begorrah
Can this be the lost and severed strand of hope
Swirling in the twisting dashing waves of time?
To sleep Perchance to dream alas poor Yoric
enthroned in the hearts of kings
To go a kinging in the ages of Darkness
Riding the T to Where?

Details | Blank verse | |


Tears of brass dripping
eyes closed-
and a glass of whiskey,
impenetrable ears penetrated.
Just thinking-
wish on a color
faded brown.
Broken strings
make no sound.
Drilling, digging a well,
of silence,
deep into the ground.
Musical thoughts a’ dancing in my mind,
melodies of the sickest kind.
Words of wisdom
never thought-
something new is something lost.
Something lost may be just fine,
but it still sends chills all down my spine.
I sit, five strings and a broken mind;
sipping gold.
Maybe I’m just wasting my time,
and wasted time is a wasted mind, 
but a wasted mind is worth my time,
and some would say I’m sitting blind,
but sitting blind just frees your mind.
And that is what most folks can’t see
but that is how this poem came to be. 
And Delylah lets me know who I am,
though Delylah just rests upon her stand

Details | Free verse | |

Random, Unintelligable Thoughts

RUT- that's the title,
Insanity- I'm a disciple.
You guys make me think,
in ways untried,
I'll treasure this site,
until I've died.
And maybe even after that,
How many lives for this cat?
Survived cancer twice,
And though it was not nice,
Worse pain I've suffered
by words,
Those sharp knives
that pierce the soul,
From anger seemingly
out of control,
Eight inch switchblade scar,
Which my skin did so mar
I hear words I question why said,
As if one were brain dead,
Like "that door is ajar.."
How crazy you think you are?
A door is a door,
A jar is a jar,
No way to confuse them
No matter who you are...
A brain just too lazy,
Or one who's simply crazy?

Details | Free verse | |

One for Sorrow, Two for Joy...

"One for sorrow,
two for joy,
three for a girl,
four for a boy,
five for silver,
six for gold,
seven for a story, never to be told"

Yes, I know,
That's how it's supposed to be,
but what if you get eight?
Is it "Eight for the desperate girl,
and nine for the boy looking ready to hurl?"
If you get ten,
ooh, that's deep,
do you get somwhere between silver and gold,
or do you get platinum?
And if you get fourteen,
'cause I like that number,
do you get your story told?

Details | I do not know? | |

The Demon

The demon entered late one night and boasted he got me.
In bed I cowered filled with fright and hoping he would leave.
"You'll never write again," he said, with dirty awful glee,
"Your course is through, your muse is dead. No fame you shall achieve."
A thousand prayers came to mind but none could I assert.
"Your pleas can't help, for you're assigned, from High, for me to pester."
But why? thought I. The fiend's reply will haunt my days on earth:
"You let your gift too long to dry, it now will reek and fester."
I woke and quaked, my nightmare gone, I thanked it wasn't true,
And running to this desk I've done three days of naught but writing.
One work is good, one sentence bad. I give each word its due,
To keep the beast away I'm glad; I'll give it no inciting.
All gifts are not our own alone. We owe the world our part.
Like Adam back and bone, we hone and sow our grief for art.

Details | Free verse | |

Surrender To

A broken sign; your
thoughts divine.
A stitch in time; a line
that rhymes.
Got you shaking; looking for
the making.
Died alone;
I can tell you anything you want to know.
A silent scream; an
etch supreme
into the mind; your
daily grind.
Moment of Zen; you're
broken in.
Died alone;
I can tell you anything you want to know.

Details | Free verse | |

Hands Clean

What did I miss?

You controlled yourself
and such 
mess mess mess
hush hush hush
wont say anything

push the button
show me
they see

I'll put the soap away
I'll sew my mouth shut
I wont tell a soul 
a word
pinky swear
mess mess
hush hush
wont say a thing

I'm not so blind

push the button
rewind the tape

and who said what again?

Who are you in this Act?
and who am I?
Why should I listen to you
If i'm not sure if i can trust you
and what's in it for me
and i know all about cleaning up after me

mess mess mess
hush hush hush
push the button

I'll hide the soap
i wont say anything
I'll keep myself in line
I'll be kind
I'll make them laugh
I'll make them cry

Weill be the best team
but why should I?

Hush Hush
such a mess
hush hush
Such a mess
push the button

What did I miss?

Details | Free verse | |

Dead Star

You're going to be a dead star 
With no life to celebrate 
A self-celebrated saint 
A self contorted brilliant 
Man, who wrote and sought, 
The best he can. 

You're going to be a dead star 
Writing to future generation 
Fair warning theme of repeated 
Tragedies and reoccurring events 
You're going to be a dead star 
A self-distorted brilliant master 
Mind, a dumbfounded, contorted 
Wisdom of word for boredom 

You're going to be a dead star 
Speaking of parables and double standards 
Life lessons and overestimation 
Qualifications and parallels 
They are going to marvel 
At your verse of 
Of fountains 
For lack of better words 

Details | Bio | |

Mind Splitting

Dear John, "Mind-Splittings" requires a mind, henceforth, you are in no danger.
Your only Fan, Tom Bell

Details | Free verse | |

Have You Seen Her? Our Zeina?

Zeina, Zeina, Kasawat...
Where, oh, where have you gone?
All I know is where you ain't...
And that's on Soup of late..

Are you out with Xena,
Princess warrior,
And her pal,?
The blonde one,
The skinny gal??

Zeina, Zeina,
Come back home....
Too long you're gone away,
Too long you roam....

Zeina, Zeina....
Study hard....
I fully expect you
To be the next great Bard.

Details | Verse | |

A Person can Trace

A person can trace a person he has such skills.
When he blames a person, he becomes a criminal.
Then why he is criminal and innocents suffering, 
Then who will trust in if he fights for covering?

Someone isn’t guilty when he is breaking system,
Law cares for his safety and believes in custom.
Barriers and barriers a person is feeling tiredness,
What will be future if human has a guilty kiss?

He works for joy but conscious fills in pressure,
When he feels guilt and thinks himself in a crusher.
When he is strong he never cares for his deeds,
When he feels sick and dies for his greeds.

Nobody has tracing greeds as he made him nervous,
He never understands always wanders in curves,
Crisis comes and he replaces it with cleverness,
But he is only a man and he is a big robber. 

Details | Free verse | |

love you and blue

“love you” and “blue”
love ewe and blue aer rhyming words true
there is always inflection and poor attitude
limits of knowledge above snobbish refrains
trains run on time only in the movies
movies run on time only in a small town
there is very few movies shown on trains
blue can be an attitude blue can be a heart
love you can be used to start a heart apart from you 
as you watch the blue southern train depart
from the blue stunted depot with the board walk floor
the little blue conductor yelling all aboard her
as the train takes the love and makes your attitude blue
soup mix tastes so wordy so blue so true and good
with a doubly heaping helping of a love ewe attitude

Details | Rhyme | |

Lost Jewel Found

When you find a lost treasure,
You are mighty pleased,
And I found a lost Ruby,
One who'se rich talents were
Never squeezed....
So it's a Christmas gift from heaven,
To hear from this valued jewel...
I hope she stays in touch,
Cause her wisdom is a tool,
Helps me make it through tough days,
Gives thought to things I write,
Ruby, I did miss you,
Turn on your shining reddish light!

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 | 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 | 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 | Verse | |

Growing To Be United

Yearning I keep learning...about
what is the mysteries.
But I don't fight it,
it doesn't get to me,
for I can see the ways
of being free 
in growing to be united.
Workingman is the first participant
in the fruits 
of communal pioneering effort.

Yearning I keep learning about,
what is the mystery behind some history.
Such as "Time is the ultimate economic element,
and economizing is the economizing of time,
and that economic calculus has
to do with that economizing."

Yearning I keep learning ...about 
born in a land that often lends'
a powerful hand.
I grasp and understand
what is a Nation under God,
and Dynamics of a Nation Building
Liberty and Justice for all.

But I don't fight it,
it doesn't get to me,
for I see the ways of being free.

Our National Anthem 
of the Star Spangle Banner is recited
and I'm wondering what's coming our way.
We can prevail,
we must prevail,
growing to be united,
we cannot fail.

Details | Kimo | |

Writer's Block

I am ready, set on the mark to go
Run in between the white lines
Waiting for the gunfire.

Details | I do not know? | |


Storm clouds blew in tempestuous winds
May's blue skies turned gray
Raindrops  pranced into dance ,
And fell to quench dry earth
Flying leaves ,branches sway
Empowered by her wind 
Stripping ,shredding 
week and rotted limbs 
A calming lullaby breeze
Tender and meek blew by
And bolts of lightning,and 
Bouts of grumbled thunder ceased
Only stillness and calm remained 
Too quickly thunderstorm was gone ...

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 | Free verse | |

I'm a victom of too little too late

The stars sing to me
to set up games
to look for players
to save my life
from the sick world of satanic cults....
I know you're thinking
How do I know?

I'm the modern day
David Gayle
She swallowed the key
She wrapped the bag around her head and taped it up
after intercourse

Once upon a time
I talked to the T.V.
I told them
I didn't want
anyone help me become succesfull
little did I know
everyone was going to spend 
the rest of their lives
fighting me

Now I'm crying
from the truth your not believing
and the mental scars I have you don't see

A call for help is a sign for suckers

Once upon a time
the radio talked to me
I told the radio
i needed a friend
a shadow
a mystery
little did I know
I'd be studied
and cast aside
after being thrown away

mentally tormented and raped

I could have lived happily ever after
The radio mocks me
The tv runs away from the truth of me
the police won't investigate me
and the mental institutes laugh

But one day
I'll get the last laugh
when I get away and prove it

For now I'm the victom of too little too late!

I'm proof crazy people aren't as nuts as you thin
but victoms like me
how do I break the cycle
and start the next?

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 | Free verse | |


These lines I write
and think well done
are merely words strung
from some propelling force,
while I watch them appear.
Watch to find the air
shimmer with familar light
within its space of silence
as a volt of words is written.
Words writing words
that become smitten
by this familar mind
with holding on to cadence or rhyme
to circulate through
a calling to do better.

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 | Free verse | |

The Missing Poetess

I looked all over,
In the closet,
In the shed,
Under my body pillow,
In my head....

Vanished like a puff of smoke,
Makes you wonder if
You just awoke....
And the Twilight Zone
Was where you dreamed
Maybe she skipped town,
Cause of an overdue loan?

She lives in Maine,
Maybe she got too close
To Steven King's ghost
And away she was spirited,
To be the host,
Of a new Poetry site...
The thought's a fright!

Let's send out the Mounties...
Maine's near Canada Dry, no?
Probably lots'a counties,
And she'd know,
Where to hide,
To keep us guessin'
Or maybe with our brains,
She's messin'

Nah, she's not cruel,
In fact, she's pretty damn cool!
So get back on the stove, Ms. Rube,
The Soup's boiling,
You're like a Rubik's Cube,
Impossible to figure,
Like a musician
With one too many a "doob'"

We'll wait faithfully,
Candle in the "Windows"
Hoping our jewel comes back,
As quickly as she goes.

Details | Free verse | |

Untitled #57 / Without my glasses

I used to think I couldn’t see
without my glasses. But the world
needs not always be so crisp. Sometimes,
it’s best to see only the fuzzy forms,
the general essence, the world as an Impressionist.
Otherwise, the detail would drive us mad.

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 | |

Crawling Out of Bed

Sun's up....
Me too....
Head first for the computer...
To see what might be new....
Not in world news,
Though I will soon get to that....
But first to check the Soup,
To see who has stirred the vat,
The cauldron of words we cook,
The wisdom that we serve....
The heights of love we expose,
Ths soaring joy of verve...
A reason for getting up,
Even when the body aches...
A reason to feel steady...
Even when our body shakes...
No medicine competes,
With the magic of the Soup,
Like the classic Jewish chicken broth,
A medical wonder if one exists,
How it heals us so thoroughly,
Is so far one that science surely does miss.

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 | Free verse | |

Untitled #254 / A better writer

How do you become a faster runner?
You run every day.
How do you become a better musician?
You practice every day.
How do you become a better writer?
You write every day.

Details | Free verse | |

Untitled #242 / Too much Dharma

There’s too much Dharma
to write, to see, to live
to feel
or is there just enough?

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 | |

Smack, Jack, Click

Pound Return SpaCE CAPS LOCK
Rapidfire staccato from the keyboard
Smack whrrrr
Jack strrrr
Click, pitter, save

Details | Couplet | |


   I represent all human kind                   
My birth begins in their mind  
  Majestic like an eagle’s flight                    
Life’s passageways of insight 
  Thru my words souls are bared           
Yet no tongue have I to share    
  I have a strong worthy stand   
Yet can be crushed in the hand
  Souls of millions I have seen
Despite no eyes to intervene
  I have traveled far and wide
Air, land and sea all in stride
  The plea of many I have heard
Yet no ears I have to hear a word
  My identity an endless sky
Amazingly untold names have I
  Many things I could be
In a Poem for all to see


Details | I do not know? | |

Food for thought

Have you ever been 
I have 
You get a knot 
In your stomach
And your tong gets all 
Miss mossy 
And worst of you 
Get dizzy
You want to just break 
Down into darkness
And you just can’t 
Snap out of it

Then you sometimes
Beneath your desk
So that no one can see you
You are so afraid
Of what people will think 
Of you 
That you 
Forget what this is 
All about
That you want yourself 
To get some pride 
For yourself
Not anyone else
And the only way to do that 
Is though
Poetry is the only way to 
Get out that anger
The only way that you can 
Truly be you

Details | Free verse | |

Nine of hearts

the black word at the top
probably not just me
but what does it me
on this card all about satiation of a puzzle piece of Freudian slips
of the ego maniac dealing me a hand
of a two sided card

The Blue "Spirits" written on the bottom upside down
I do no know the right side up
and the "masks is there on the side

just one card professor
just one card
the nine of hearts
a piece of the puzzle
a piece of the chapter
a legacy of five hearts upright
showing me there is more love than what may be topsy turvy
four hearts upside down under the top five

and when i flip this card over what do i find
on the other side
the six of clubs
a card of success
Blue on top a word that speaks "Alone"

Down at the bottom and upside down
an omen written "within"
and on the side i have "expressive"

My deck of 26 cards with two sides
and these are just a few of my favorite things

the puzzle of Freudian slips
the word game
spirits within
confuses expressive masks

I'll never know

on card with two tails heads and tails
would you like a reading after you read the fairytale?
would you like to know more more than the yes or no to your answer and what 
you found here to the question you didn't t know to ask

and what have you found in this moment you are made up
besides the greed and arrogance you pine and hide away?
did you cry
did anyone come to intervene
did the destroyer change your ways from those who could wipe
this place clean
and is time ticking tick tock ticking away
to reflect within the mirrors
around you echoing your souls
as we all cry
and cry like teddy bears
banshee teddy bears
is time still ticking away?

success of being satiated 
cursed by being alone within and expressing it
to confuse your spirits and mask it all
such a poetic piece of art

my nine
my nine my valentine six of clubs nine of hearts
trump taking trick winning mastermind trump
hand winning card of the game fortunetellers jaw drop right now
because they are also god given
when they see the mirror magic of alphabets and words reflected in my living 
room surrounded by tick tock ticking

and i cry every night 
like a banshee
wanting to rewind the tapes see what i would have missed if i didn't take it all on 
and what is left for me
 are my hands gonna be clean?

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Valentine's Day Birthday

My sweet Ruby's birthday,
Naturally on Valentine's day,
In her honor, the NY city of Beacon
Will close their schools!
Ain't that a kick?
Though, sadly, 
She seems to be "missing in action" lately,
Many wonder why,
She is so loved on this site,
Many of us cry....
So come back home,
To the five and dime,
We'll even through in some 
Jimmy Dean sausages!!!

Or, as Kenny Roger's first song went,
"Ruby, don't take your poems to town!"

Details | Quatrain | |

Ode to a Dark Muse

  That evil bloom that blossomed
from your lips,
and grew to sprout ,I love you
up my spine,
those tendrils twining
from your fingertips
into the primal levels of my mind

Your dark creative spirit reaching out,
to pull me in to find my life renewed,
the price to pay is worth the pain I find
to gain a love with power so imbued

my muse ,a lodestar shining through the night,
has fallen to the earth in ashes lost
now in your eyes I see a fearsome light
and I succumb regardless of the cost.

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 | Free verse | |

Untitled #112 / Non-remaining

I have told you about remaining.
But what of non-remaining?
How would it be then?
What would you say?

Details | Free verse | |

Untitled #158 / Another day

So now I lay my head down
and try to get some sleep
another day part recorded, part lost
but mostly lost

Details | Free verse | |

Untitled #239 / I thought

I thought I was done!
But, ah, no!
Could I think my heart would be filled
by her departure? no!
Emptiness is the same everywhere!

Details | Free verse | |

Poet's dilemma

Recapturing thought can be more elusive
than chasing butterflies with pole and net

word's peltering mind like hailstone's
eventually evaporate.........
must wait for the brain cloud to rain again

Somewhere in the dark recess sit's an insomniac host
inmost phrase's at inopportune moment
inactivity appears not to be an option

managing time........proper use of space
pen to paper , the point will trace
eloquent style is where I find my peace........

Details | Free verse | |

Untitled #34 / Sift

Sift harder! Verify!
a pen cautiously pressed to the page
No spirit! You must live!
Crazy welling up from under!
Don’t sit lazy stupid drooling drooping dreaming!
The truth even now is within you! Look!
Before it is lost!

Details | Free verse | |

Socialmoth 101

You have the keys to my heart
from an anonymous start
I'm free to be me
because you can no longer see
not finished

Details | Free verse | |

Not Long Ago

I would like you...
to read this poem, not ‘cos it’s different 
from the rest of mine, maybe, ‘cos I wrote it, just now--- 
five minutes ago. Although, I believed 

...that I gave my best for this write,
yet still, it needs attention, the pleasing
sound of your heart, 
as you caress every word of it. 

A rhyme, skinned from geranium’s lips...that November 
whispered me, a song, of two birds I saw, hanging on 
an oak tree. What’s there below, in silent gaze, peeking 
at them? Do you know the color of their days? Oh, I still 

recall, vividly, the color of my yesterday: let me 
remember you, hmm, I think it was… Ahh no, I’ll just leave 
that to you, untangling the spell, yes the spell, of my 
adolescent years, hidden in this poem, of not so long ago! 

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 | |

Cryptic Puzzle

Cryptic Puzzle 

forgotten words penned long ago left for someone 
like the dragonflies to rediscover 
we found the words on a secret place 
the place the place the place 
where oh where is the place to discover 
cryptic puzzle 
8 sides,8 streams a countin 
this is certainly not a mountain 
built outside old man, 
the clue rack is lain, 
l()()k in the SE corner of the _____? 

Details | Blank verse | |


Who am I? Behind these words. Digits in a computer network. Scratches on a 
piece of paper. These words were never mine. They are torn from my mind. I 
don't now if they are mine. DO they reflect me or the reality that I am in, or are they 
just images that I have seen in passing. Are they who I am or more a foil to world 
outside. I create these words in my mind twisting until they are right. Yet they do 
not fit anything that I have seen or remember except for in my dreams. Yet, It feels 
like it is more going into my experiances. I write what comes to me, whether it 
makes sense or not, helps someone. For my opnion is even if I do not 
understand what I am writing someone else might.

Details | Blank verse | |

Mister He

Who lurks beyond the shadows of the moon?
Who knows when tomorrow will ever arrive?
Do we know who the moral majority represents?
The answer is Mister He

For Mister He has been around far too long
He has embellished words, stolen mind
He waits for those unsuspecting innocents
As they are the prey that he dares to find

He hovers over us all, ready to attack
But to know him? No, we never see at all.
For he is the reason socks go missing
And down the basement stairs we sometimes fall.

Details | Free verse | |


Iff eye am afraid they smell it. 
They say among themselves, L()()k he IS afraid. 
and they sneer 
Iff eye am not afraid,they sense it. 
They say among themselves, L()()k he is NOT afraid. 
and they sneer 
Iff eye am cursing OR quiet, 
alone or with someone, 
They say among themselves, L()()k who does he think HE is. 
and they sneer 
Somewhere in the darkness,they is fear, 
and they sneer, 
Sneer Oh Darkness and be afraid, 
and fear. 

Details | I do not know? | |

Quiz No. 13

You'd have to add four more to his score to knock on the right door.