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Details | Bio | |

Maurice Glenn Turner and Randy Thompson: Fallen Heroes

Glenn Turner and Randall "Randy" Thompson were the best police officer and volunteer firefighter in all of Cobb County, Georgia, until March 1995 (WWF Monday Night Raw and WWF Wrestle-Mania XI) and January 2001 (Raw Is War, WWF SmackDown!, and the WWF Royal Rumble) when their lives were taken away from their loving families by Julia Lynn Womack: aka the "Black Poisoning Widow." It seems that it was these two guys in uniform who married the same woman, especially when she was after their money, totaling hundreds and thousands of dollars, even in life insurance. Glenn and Randy have been killed by a deadly liquid by the form of Etheline Glycol rich antifreeze; Lynn Turner used it to spike that of lime-flavored gelatin (green Jell-O), sweet iced tea, and chicken noodle soup. Now, how cold-blooded was that? But to be honest, Maurice G. Turner and Randy Thompson, God rest their souls, really never should've met this gold digging assassin named Julia Lynn Womack (who's now dead) to begin with. Their families, their colleagues, and the citizens of Cobb County, Georgia, they still don't understand why the lives of these two men have to end in a tragic manner. They've got a bunch of whole lives ahead of them. But now that Lynn Turner, who killed both her police officer husband and her firefighter boyfriend, is dead, she can't hurt anyone else ever again. Randall and Glenn are no longer with their friends and families (including their moms), but their spirits will live on forever and they'll see their loved ones in heaven one day. And as for Julia Lynn Womack-Turner, she got what was coming to her and may she burn in the giant pit of inferno for all eternity.


Details | Free verse | |

I will not be late to work this morning

I will not be late to work today

I will get there on time
I will brush my teeth
Without singing songs
Without thinking about birthdays
About gymnasiums
About TAKS 
About sound
About war
Republicans
Democrats
Independents

I will get there on time
I will eat my oatmeal
Without thinking of 
Broken valentines
Strewn against a wooden
Fence 
Like dropped goblets
From a robbers pillowcase

I will be there before the bell rings
My papers will be checked
My hair will be combed
My mind will be alert 
Ready to begin my lesson

I will not wonder why
My oldest son doesn’t have a job
I will not pray too long
For my daughter who is taking the bar today
At 10:30 AM in New Orleans
I will not scar my knees wishing
For some alternate world
Where children are never neglected
Or hurt
Where there is no abandonment

What nonsense to try and order the world
Just get to work on time
Put your things in the car, your projector and 
The white binders that you didn’t look at
All weekend although you were supposed to check the papers and put the 
grades on the computer
I will leave now
Before it is impossible to
Be on time
I will cream my ashy ankles

I will not focus on the white
Cat on the black pillow
With the green eyes
I will not water the plant
I will not watch TV
I will not write poetry
Before work

I will not write poetry
Before work
I will get to work on time
I will be ready
I will not be daydreaming about fog
Wondering if I’ll get Alzheimer’s like my mother
Or colon cancer like my dad
I won’t be thinking about that stuff
I will be locking the front door and 
Closing the gate and clicking the clicker
And starting the car and leaving

I will not be in my living room
Wondering if there is any reason to love
Because I do not love for reason
I love because He first loved me
It is not incantations or intoxication
Or imagination it is my life and 
The structure will come with the
Clearness of Bajan water
So clear you can see the fish
Fly float across the Atlantic

It is time
This poem must end
I will not be late for work
This morning
Not for nothing
Not for nobody
Not for anything
Not for everything

This poem is over 
the work day begins



Details | Free verse | |

The Picture Converter

The Picture Converter
Eye was working and making copies of my poems to preserve the text and the 
pictures do not come with the words to rest in folders where eye place the text so 
the very first thing that eye want all the newly wedded student graduates to do is 
make me an internet picture converter that works. Make the picture into the text 
the ED NOTE it was the symbols 

 The Picture Converter 
http://storypen.com/cgi-bin/index.pl?
poemnumber=381095&sitename=charlax&password=&poemoffset=0&displayp
oem=t&item=story 
The Picture Converter 
 
The Picture Converter 
 
  
Eye was working and making copies of my poems to preserve the text and the 
pictures do not come with the words to rest in folders where eye place the text so 
the very first thing that eye want all the newly wedded student graduates to do is 
make me an internet picture converter that works. Make the picture into the text 
the 
OH wow this would not work until eye deleted the symbols in the word document 
The Picture Converter 
Eye was working and making copies of my poems to preserve the text and the 
pictures do not come with the words to rest in folders where eye place the text so 
the very first thing that eye want all the newly wedded student graduates to do is 
make me an internet picture converter that works. Make the picture into the text 
the hay ref and the IMG thing that works so well in all my forums and lay it on the 
right page margin next to all the poem words that eye must save and then when 
eye copy and past this thing again let it emerge as pictures once again to rule the 
poetry page to come back to image land to actually be a picture once again to 
make the poem bleed the picture converter will have an icon of its own please 
feel free to use the charlax one my image is still free eye love the poetry and the 
pictures and the banners just add so much to all the words a little story place a 
little story made a little story gold when poems rule the world only poets will be 
old. 




Details | Free verse | |

THE PEN!

"Are you Quill?," She asked abeam.
"Yes, of course! - mostly - when the Muselle` 
visits oft'n'r upon, as my wont!
"Well, here!, this will surely help at the Magic...

And IT, Voila!, was in hand, a thrust-unmistakable!
Blunt, bulbous & sleek, a slick Recife, 
this Turquoise and Silver stick.

Is IT "Blue?" Is IT "Black?" 
Pray, "Blue-Black!?"  Wow! - 
A Sole instrument for Playing in the Indigene,
Soul Colors of the Earth! - I nearly crack to Self.

Swirled-embedded, b'neath the haute Baekelight-Crystal
like a LavaLamp-Entemp.  IT's messages of ambidexsrait-
Threads, Mola thru splayed fingers.  O' Charitable Mage 
You have brought to Life!...   I     Write    Handcrafted!  
                                                        
                                                        H.e.m.
                                                        5.1.MMvii.
                                                        Solus



Details | Rhyme | |

Blank Page

Too long have I been staring at this cruel blank page before me, My crazed, hysteric mind screaming and imploring I know there is a message that's dying to come out— I need to fill this confounded page without the slightest doubt! It's a simple predicament to manipulate, Into a mass of thought A futile attempt to insinuate, Weak hints are left with naught I sit here in silent desperation, What can fill this page? I slap myself in indignation, My eagerness becoming rage! Like roaches sporadically running from light My thoughts are but a haze The words I write just don't seem right, On this cruel blank page!


Details | Sonnet | |

THE LIFE OF A DRUNKEN WRITER

They assigned me me to write a sonnet about the life of a drunken writer
whose dream wouldn't shatter, but his foolishness wasn't in the past tense; 
he spent endless hours reading blogs of people who didn't make sense...
in chat rooms he found geeks, charlatans and a casual liar. 
These are the ones who can text all day as kids do for fun... 
what's the excuse for being late and perform with a brainless head?
Here's proof of his laziness: he didn't write anything to earn him bread.   
" Wake up, your work is piling up...you snore as pigs in a barn! "
the co-worker in the next booth sneered as the boss approached Fred
who stuttered and tried to explain why he couldn't get the work done...
while his breath stunk and couldn't stand him looking awfully mad.
" I need that article by tomorrow, or you'll get a pink slip and are gone! " 
" Sir, the last article was a hit...you liked that sex-pot with those boobs! "
" Why can't I write about today's generation who have the speed of raccoons? "


Details | Rhyme | |

The Soup Hall of Fame

Contractual agreements with publisher caused DELETION


Details | I do not know? | |

Poets Riches

Poets ponder They cannot squander A stipend they do not receive For paid in thought Their piece of mind Are words formed and conceived A tale of sorts Depiction of life Even death, if they so choose Sometimes humor So often, strife Sometimes fake and sometimes true To live on poetry Getting paid for thoughts Is not within the poets reach That’s why they work Many various jobs Laborers, professionals and some, they teach Within their thoughts Their written words Lies the life for which they wish For there in mind Though pockets bare The poet knows, within, he’s rich As thought has value But not of dollar Intrinsic is what it shall always be The poet stands Not then with riches But pride in thought, his dignity


Details | Clerihew | |

My only good poetry

While preparing 1001 soups
For the last night of this year
        I wrote a poem,
My only good poetry, ready to win the 1st Prize;
But I dropped it in…Soup.


Details | Lyric | |

I Can't Say It Without You

I was your never ending composer
We spent many a nights, and many an hour together
But now you’re lost inside
And I can’t find my way, again.

( chorus )
Cause I can’t say it without you		
It hurts to be without the feeling		
Never knowing when it will return		
But I know that you would stay with me	
If you came back, again some day		
But till then I’ll wait till you appear.	

I really miss the way you make me feel
People said we were meant to be together
Why’d you leave me so unexpectedly
I hope you come back soon.

( Chorus )

It’s been two months since I’ve written you
All I’ve got to show is crumpled bits of paper
The passion and creativity is now gone
So come back home so I can work it out.	


Details | Epic | |

Statutory Rape 101

Everybody knows that it's against the law for grown men and grown women to date all of the underage boys and girls,. let alone a 14-year-old boy or a 15-year-old girl. The law also states that any adult who tries to have this so-called "intimate sexual relationship" with any of the underage boys and/or girls would likely go to jail for a period of time and upon release, they'll have to be register sex offenders for the rest of their lives. It seems that those teen girls would rather date men in their 20's or 30s than guys their age and those teen boys would rather date women twice their age than girls their age, as well. but luckily, their parents (the mothers and the fathers) are here to prevent these so-called "May-December" relationships from ever happening, especially when they're protecting their teenage offspring from dirt-bags like these would-be pedophiles. But no matter what the parents do, no matter how hard they try, their teen sons and/or daughters, they secretly continuing dating older men/older women, even at night (midnight, 2 am, or 3 in the morning, e.g.). And the next thing everybody knows, their parents, they will have found out about it; thereby finding them in bed with the adults; their parents should make multiple police reports and pud the cradle robbers behind bars for good. Boy this is starting to look like an episode of "Law & Order: Special Victims Unit" (Season 6-Episode 19-Intoxicated featuring Danielle Panabaker) and an episode of "Snapped," especially when Sarah Johnson killed her own parents in cold blood because she was afraid that the late Mr. and Mrs. Alan and Diane Johnson would send this guy name Bruno Santos to prison or have him deported back to Mexico for statutory rape (by way of dating a then-16-year-old girl). There's no way that those teen boys and teen girls are ever going to get into a bunch of serious, intimate relationships with a bunch of would-be cradle-robbing adults. They need to concentrate on their education and they need to be with guys and girls their age. I mean, one teen boy dating a n adult female? One teen girl dating an older man? My God, their parents will be seriously upset about this. Who on Earth would be dumb enough to fall for an older woman or an older man? And if these would-be pedophiles in the form of grown men and women even attempt to rob these teen boys and girls of their innocence and whatnot, the parents are going to have a problem up in here.


Details | Haiku | |

All About the Music: The Infinite Magic of Lyricism

Pop may be catchy
But not lyrically deep
Case in point: Chris Brown.


(N.B. Poem written after hearing "Don't Wake Me Up")


Details | Couplet | |

Life is an Aventurous Squirrel Run

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

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

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

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

Contest: Emotion: Squirrelly and fun   CSEastman


Details | Cowboy | |

The Urban Outlaw

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


Details | Narrative | |

The Song Of David

Enlighten days have past
He comes excel in all, so he thinks
"I am greater than man,
I know what ignorant man does not.
Come to me for knowledge unsurpassed!".
He points to the blue heaven,
"Where is thy wisdom? For I know all.
Where is thy command? That makes the ground shake
And brings forth water that lives?"

At the great gatherings,
He flocks the shepherds, blind, mute and deaf  
He answers to the multitude of questions
He asked the shepherds, "but what are thy questions?",
“I know not what do ask a man of your wisdom, but what  is a dream?
What is life?” asked the young herdsman.
"I know not what you speak of", said the Man.
"I only know what i can feel, touch and see"

"A dream is dream that passes us by, like gentle breeze of fresh spring.
Life holds all things mystery and doubts.
Shepherd knows to flock, not life or dreams".
"The shepherds are those who are humble, noble one", said the herdsman
"The blind cannot see, the mute cannot speak and the deaf cannot hear".
"Who are you preaching to? Silent and amaze, the man looks on.  

"If the blind could see you, 
They would say, 'look here is the man who tried to humble the blind
For they can see what others cannot,
If the mute could speak, they would humble you!
And if the deaf could hear they would shamed your wisdom".
"Was I a fool?" said the Man "or are you not that young herdsman?
Who knows nothing of life and passes his days tending the sheep's?
What could you learn from such simpleton life?"

"Life I live is simple indeed, 
No one knows that the shepherds are those who protects the weak"
"Nature is a friend of the shepherd; we sing the song of David
And rubs the olive oil to our young sheep, to keep away the flies".
Insulted, the man's fury turns over to the young herdsman
"Nature? Protect the weak? The song of David? Flies?
How can nature befriend a lonely shepherd? Protect who?
Song of David the Shepherd who became the king? 
What flies would harm the young flocks?"

The young herdsman smiled at the frown face of the man,
Left without a word
The blind, the mute and deaf ignored the man.
An unyielding shame kept the man humbled
He wonders why the young herdsman smiled about.
He came about a bridge and crossed the rocky roads
On the hill top he stood 
And saw the young herdsman singing the Song of David.


Details | Haiku | |

WRITER'S BLOCK

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


Details | Rhyme | |

Poetic Toxins

I write what I know, and know what I write.
I travel through time, every rhyme with might.
Ruminating the past; its wrongs and its rights.
Any time of the day, and any darkness of night.

I pen history and its future, as small as it seems,
Inking a mission, my pen shadows my dreams.
I engrave bits of pain, through every extreme.
Inscribing a passion, my script and its regime.

My pen is much mightier, than an army indeed,
it slashes its victims with a whimsical need.
It destroys its targets, planting a poetic seed.
It preys on cruelty, and the abusive it feeds.

Feeding a toxic dose, of words and rhymes,
serving a deadly concoction of ink in time.
For the tongue is more lethal in words of rhyme,
the triumphant work of a poet; yours and mine.


Details | Epic | |

Teen Pregnancy 4: The Cradle Robbers

Teen boys are always getting teen girls pregnant, but older men, impregnating underage girls? When will teen pregnancy stop? It seems that these underage girls have been seeing these men in their 20s or 30s behind the backs of their moms and/or dads. And the next thing everybody knows, one day later, those teen girls, they will have wounded up getting pregnant in an instant. No matter what the parents do to prevent their teen daughters from ever becoming mothers at an early age, let alone 15, no matter how hard they try, they just won't listen. And no matter what the moms and/or the dads will have done by showing their teen daughters the dangers of teen parenting, they still won't listen. These older men have always been messing around with the underage girls (ages 14, 15, 16, and/or 17) and are always getting getting them pregnant. What's so cold about it is that their parents will have been seriously upset about the fact that these grown men have robbed those teen girls of their innocence and their futures. And instead of teen girls going to college to become, teachers, lawyers, and/or doctors, because of these grown men, those teen girls will have been forced to have dropped out of high school to take care of their kids. See, there's a problem with those underage girls: they just can't concentrate on their education, thereby getting their high school diplomas and/or college degrees. The girls really should've waited until after they'd gotten married to guys their age and then have kids. And if these men in their 20s, 30s, or 40s weren't going to take care of their kids that the young mothers have given birth to because those sexist, womanizing Neanderthals who've gotten them pregnant to begin with, they should've used condoms and/or left those teen girls alone. As a matter fact, these grown men should've gotten arrested for impregnating teen girls by way of statutory rape. What's with these young teen girls, always falling for guys twice or three times their age, knowing they should date guys their age. Why must these grown men always wanting to get those underage girls pregnant at an early age, let along 15? I mean, who does that. It's just way, way, way too much for their parents (the moms and/or the dads) to handle. And if this type of teen pregnancy continues to expand by the year 2016 and these adult men continue to rob those teen girls of their futures, their so-called "childhood," and their innocence, their parents, they're doomed. This ends now!


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 | Alliteration | |

No Title

My bed is anxious,waiting for my snores Today's going to bed, tomorrow's a few steps ahead I wonder why I took "the" pen I feel like putting them down What? My thoughts What am I inking? Nothing! Exactly! Just wanna scratch my itchy paper with my juicy ink Singers? Go sing... Comedians? Go do comedy... Others? What's your "itchy paper?" Have you applied your "ink?" Be good at what you do Love what you do Practice... Go scratch it!


Details | I do not know? | |

Brain Dead

There I lay.

Remained, unchanged.
Mind numb, thoughts blank,
Only visions of snowy white project onto the black backs of my eyelids.

Was I paralyzed? Or perhaps I had reached my final destination six feet under the earth...

No. Worse...
Writer's block.

I look around me. Nothing but enclosed darkness. No windows, no doors. 
The air is thick and cold...not yet cold enough to see my breath, but just cold enough for an uncomfortable setting...the monotonous silence is deafening...

I panic, running around frantically in the chilling prison walls of my mind, screaming, clawing, kicking, hoping to somehow break through and see the light of day. 
I stop after what seems like endless useless hours of fighting. Hands bruised and drenched in stale dried blood. 

I'm sitting on the ground now. I yell into the emptiness but receive nothing in return, no echo, nothing. I yawn wildly in fear I have gone deaf...but then I hear a voice. Soft and faint, so gentle that I'm ambushed with another attack of yawns to once again reassure that the tiny whispers are more than my blank labrynthed mind playing tricks on me.

There is a light. A small light, bright and inviting. Shining through an old fashion key hole, to an old fashion door that seemed to appear from thin air.

On hands and knees I approach it with caution. I hear the innocent voice again and I pause. I take a deep breath and look into the peep hole. 

I find myself locked eyes in the reflection of the wild appearance man in my computer screen and awaken.


Details | I do not know? | |

CRITERIA OF THE JEWISH CANON 11022011


In the several centuries 
Before the coming of Christ
The Jews in Palestine re-examined 
Eliminated some of the books 

From existing collection
As not in harmony with the Law of Moses as 
Of doubtful inspiration
The Pharisees set up four criteria 

Which their sacred 
Books had to pass 
In order to be included 
In the revised Jewish Canon

(1)	They had to be in harmony with the Pentateuch (Torah or Law)

(2)	They had to be written before the time of Ezra

(3)	They had to be written in Hebrew

(4)	They had to have been written in Palestine


Details | Free verse | |

Rebellious

                                        What???...

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

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


Details | Ode | |

Thank You Mr. S.

I wanted to be a writer
When I was just a young teen
But I was so incredibly shy
And kids can be so mean.

Then a new teacher came along.
He had such a different view.
I no longer felt embarrassed
By the writing that I'd do.

He made me feel I had a gift
And that it should be shared.
To him I admitted my hopes
And I felt that he really cared.

Mr. Sowden encouraged extra work,
To write about whatever we wanted.
So I wrote and wrote and wrote some more.
The words just flew, undaunted.

My grade ten English teacher
Read my work out loud
And winked when the class applauded,
For the first time I felt proud.

I never signed my real name.
The class didn't know it was me
But my work garnered admiration, 
On display for all to see.

That was the year I learned that
What I wrote was pretty good.
I just needed time for confidence to grow
And that, Mr. Sowden, understood.

He made us see the written word
In a way that made us aware.
So I would like to thank him,
The English teacher who really did care.


Details | Free verse | |

William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare

You watch the show week after week
You cry when you are supposed to cry
Laugh when you are supposed to laugh
You even feel the intended anger
Milady, please loosen your bustle
Breathe in the cool evening air
Know that this story has been retold hundreds of times
Differing sets and actors sharing the moment with you
However, the words were written centuries ago
By men who were skilled in the use of a quill
They were meant to take your breath away
Some were meant to make your loins quiver
Other were meant to make your heart skip a single beat
However Milady none live within a spark of truth
They are merely to tell a story
The actors have no true feelings when they speak
Their kisses are without the love they show
The blood does not flow from the warmth of a body
No one died of poison or at the end of a sword
It is all a show performed to share the writer’s thoughts
Alas Milady do not leave the theatre empty hearted
Take with you the words you have heard
Hold tightly the feelings you had inside you
If you can do that Milady the writer’s work was not in vain
The actors work would be appreciated
And you Milady, you will have a memory
A memory of one of the greatest stories ever written
And you will, for all eternity, remember the writer’s name
You will remember the name William Shakespeare


Details | Free verse | |

Thoughts of A Song Writer

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


Details | Epic | |

I Have Autism 3: Still Human

Having autism has been the greatest thing that has ever happened to every boy, girl, man, and woman, especially that of a three-year-old. It has made a positive impact on people who'd been born with or had been diagnosed with autism since day one. Being autistic means accepting for who he and/or she really is, especially when he or she's around a bunch of open-minded people. What everyone, including me, also learned about having autism is when we're living in our own worlds and the real world at the same time. Children, teens, and adults with autism can function in the real world, even in public places, especially when they're going to school or work. What I also learned is that people can go after their dreams like being a politician, a lawyer, or whatever, even if he and/or she has autism. God has made us the way we are, and I think that having autism has been the greatest thing that has ever happened to all of us, even when I was three years old. It doesn't matter if he and or she has either autism, autism spectrum disorder, or Asperger's Syndrome, we're all still human. The whole world should know that being an autistic human being is great and no one should judge us just because we, as humans, have autism, autism spectrum disorder, or Asperger's Syndrome. The fact that day in and day out, for the past few years, people with autism, including me, have proven the board of education and those nay-Sayers wrong, even in the classrooms in all of the schools nationwide. Nothing could bring us down. Even though we have autism, we're still His children. The parents should be proud of the fact that they've raised us well, even if we have autism or any other disability. There's also a good chance of people getting into serious relationships and getting married, regardless of one person having autism. And if all of the friends and families have accepted them for who they really are, other people should be more accepting, too. I have autism, mild MR (mental retardation), and OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder) and I'm also proud of the fact that I'm still human.


Details | Rhyme | |

Good Writtance

What is it then, what good?
Never doing as it should
Tempest tossed from hell
Written close to me

Tears drain from the eye wells
Bitten close to hearts deep sea
Ink dries round the wound
Written close to me

Rejected again my friends
Planned out as a grand win
Cut this deep bitter sin
Written close to me

Good then to bed
Fateful bitter bled
Good I say, good
Good Writtance
Close to me


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 | I do not know? | |

Non Catholic religions

You think Christ is not hurt
With loving what you thought is Christ
Loving Christ is being in His true Church
In Catholic or Roman Catholic you are not condemned but saved

In His Church
Ask R.C.I.A.
Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults
Is like a college Religion class

You will learn the truth
In other man-made religion bible are lies
What you’re reading is really the true Church
Not your own

It’s like a blind
Leading another blind
They would both fall in hell of fire
It is not the minister’s fault

Your own, rather take them with you
Both of you learn the truth
For every man they can be a deacon
Bishop and Priest are not with a wife

For Jesus Christ is a High Priest
Great Prophet
Only Son of the most High
The Redeemer

In RCIA, you will receive 3 important Sacraments
Baptism
Confirmation and
Holy Eucharist or the Body of Christ

We want God to be pleased with us
Eternal Father told the people 
To Listen only to the Messiah and
The One I sent

What are these Christ like churches?
Non Catholic churches?
People in there are already condemned
Being in Catholic or Roman Catholic, you are saved


Details | Epic | |

Friendship 101

Friendship is the state of both people being the best of friends. Friendship also means      that one person is to protect the another person (man and/or woman) from all kinds of danger, even being taken advantage of. There's always a difference between two people being just friends and both best friends (a boy and a girl) falling in love with each other, especially when they've known each other since they were babies or elementary school. Building friendships mean that he and/or she has built the bridges that will never break  or burn unless they'd betrayed each other by having affairs with their boyfriends/girlfriends, selling them out to the the wrong crowd (including the devil), and that kind of stuff. It seems that without each other, they're nothing. Both people, including those from either elementary school, middle school, high school, or college really need each other, especially when they will have found out that their spouses or lovers have been cheating on them with somebody else. The greatest thing everybody should learn about friendships is that all friends are there for each other every single day. And the other greatest thing about friendships is that they've got each others' backs, especially when they're falling on hard times like facing reality, dealing with being decades old, that kind of stuff. Let's hope that all friendships don't end in pain, sadness, and suffering. And if these people continue to stay the best of friends for years and years, even through out all of the school reunions, things will always be the same. I hope all friendships stay stronger than ever forever.


Details | Acrostic | |

PROUD TO BE A POET

PROUD TO BE A POET

P-------Production of deep 
           thoughts is my job!
R-------Right in front
O-------Of my old desk; I
U-------Uncover things; Things 
D-------debarring
T-------The 
O-------Operational progress of 
           other things!
B-------Being blessed by God;      
          who has
E-------Easily made poets to be! 
           To be nothing but
A-------A lover of His mighty 
P-------Pen!
O-------Otherwise; no other 
           human
E-------Effort, would have 
T-------Taught a 
meaningful                  deep 
          thought!


Details | Free verse | |

To Whom It May Concern

Some say there's nothing poetic about blue-collar work.
I'm here to prove them wrong.

What is a poem?
For one, it has rhythm.
"Well, where's the rhythm
in a discordant jumble of a thousand tools
all clamoring for dominance over my ears?"
It's smack-dab in the middle -
where you hear clanging and banging,
I hear the smooth, even strokes
of a well-swung hammer.
Where you hear chopping and whirring,
I hear the harmony
of a saw producing a masterpiece.

What else constitutes poetic achievement?
Diction and language.
"Well, sure, there's all kinds of
colorful language among those types - 
not the kind of language I meant!"
To that, I say, read my musings,
hear my words and see
if you can say without lie
that there's no fine vocabulary present.
A coarse man in the company of other similar types,
one may come home
and show his refined and eloquent side.

What is a poem?
One more thing it has is sometimes rhyme.
"What, now you're going
to come right out and say
that you all speak in rhyme?
You must be joking."
To which I reply,
look me in the eye,
and see if you detect any jest;
For those of us down, in the mud and the dirt,
may look the sort to be simple and curt;
But we can sure rhyme with the best.

What do the poetic greats have?
A mastery of their form.
"Well, here, in this final point
has got to be my clincher;
There's no way you guys
are spitting out haiku and so on."
To this I say that here
lies the winning facet of my argument, not yours -
for you need look no further than the piece before you;
Two lines to start, four groups of a dozen,
and two at the end -
I dare say that that is indeed some kind of form.

One more job done, another task complete -
this humble poem of frustration and explanation.


Details | Couplet | |

The Blessing for My Book

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

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

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

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






Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Enough Is Enough

No matter what he or she does, no matter how hard he or she does, it's not good enough for the others. These people who've been trying way too hard to impress other people have been treated like trash since ever. The only thing that other people are good at is being way better than the others. And the fact that day in and day out, week after week, for the past few years, people like their so-called "boyfriends" and their so-called "girlfriends," people like his or her so-called "best friends" had the audacity to disrespect this guy or girl. It's just like when these people have been seriously rejected by their so-called "attractive peers" after they asked them out on dates or get together someday and because of the way they looked. The moment these people have forgotten about the others, it had finally dawned on them. It seems that these people never really wanted to be friend with each other or go out on dates in the near future, anyway.  And come to think of it, It's not enough for them. Some people are just completely ungrateful. After everything these people have done for each other, like ask them out on dates and/or offering them real friendships, it's like they've accomplished nothing. Even breaking their backs for each other, it's still not enough. And this type of rejection is making everybody sick, even me. Well, no more of being rejected. No more of being treated like trash. And no more being stepped on and pushed around. This type of rejection has got to stop. So as of right now, this ends right now! Enough is enough, and it's time for a real change!


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Seventh Fable

 The Seventh Fable 
The Seventh Fable 
 
Charlaxes Fables 
 
Mental Prefabrications 
 


People have preconceived ideas from Religion and Television 

combine these two ideas and no wonder everyone is mental. 

The Eye is just now thankful that the computer was not mine at age 14. The TV 
was enough to ruin me for life. It is no wonder that eye still don't have a life. 
Falling into cracks made just for me. Living in the NEW AGE causes so much 
uncertainty and problems we avoided in our past come back as daily necessities 
of the mass of useless protoplasmic mice eye once saw a man on the highway 
with a sign he was begging for more money to get some more useless wine so 
the people went zigging past avoiding him until he fell down on the ground it 
seemed to me he was passed out perhaps he died and no one buried him 
sounds like an episode of Twilight Zone. There was episodes eye will never 
forget the NOSE throbbing on the stairs inside the house the girl tried to leave the 
shelter of the fence once out she turned to dust the man with the wires in his arm 
seeing the oven where he was born the little airforce people in the GIANT 
woman's kitchen getting swept. 

It just occurred to me the ins and outs of celebrity imagine all the casting calls to 
make the episodes. AND the fact that Charlax was never chosen for even one of 
them seems sort of some kind of twisted justice the actors used were just the 
best of all the crème de le crème of all the hollywooded jest. Webseries Pilot 
casting call: 
The Charlax would be excellent at this OH wait look at that ethnic face. Male, 
open ethnicity, early to mid 30's - JG. Federal Agency Detective.  Good at his job, 
but fresh enough to still want to make a difference. Oh if eye were only Twenty 
Years different. A Twilight Zoned Detecative with the name Rick Roll selected and 
elected to be the actor of the myllineum. 
   


Details | Free verse | |

The Writer

He hides his wisdom
beneath his thick glasses
He uses his pen
to say what he knows

He conceal himself
with his infamous words
of what he understands
nobody could comprehend

He barely speaks
For he stammers a lot
But he read so much
So he could tell

He has this blanket
To cover his frail body
Who could responds to facts
And withdraws data

His wicked wit
An envious one
He knows a lot
But possesses nothing

The curve of his eyebrows
He questions a lot
The eyes of this beast
Crushes your ignorance

His pathetic jaws
Displays no elegance
But the color of his lips
Could define your existence

He perceives a lot
but not himself
His eloquent tongue
could change your stand

His grotesque features
Is the uncertainty of his integrity
For people believe 
The superficial reality

He looks dumb
And you act smart
You laugh at him 
He doesn't mind

You see yourself
As the face of success
He shrugged his shoulder
As he creates you #


Details | Free verse | |

Work and Write

Try and try,
And try again.
To do what
Others have begin.

Work and work,
And Work some more.
To finish what
I must now end.

Toil, Toil
And toil some more.
Only to start again
Tomorrow.

Write, Write,
And write again.
To build on what
Other have began

We work to achieve,
Try to succeed,
Toil through the soil,
And write all the miles.


Details | Epic | |

Epiphany

An epiphany is actually a Christian holiday that takes place on the 6th of January every year. An epiphany is also a sudden realization of greater truth. It seems that after he or she had said some hateful remarks about each other or whatever, he or she finally has an epiphany; people should accept some changes in their lives. Epiphany is used different ways, especially when it comes to being a Christian holiday, even after Christmas. The only way for people to each have an epiphany is to end their selfish and hateful ways. And the fact that day in and day out, even if these people are moving on with their lives, they should do the same. Some people, like Albert Einstein, were using the word "epiphany" as a scientific term, but it's used to end all types of selfishness and a lot of arrogance. No wonder why epiphany has affected the lives of every human being on planet earth. and just like I said, the only way to end this selfishness is to have an epiphany. The only reason why he/she shouldn't care about him/herself anymore is because other people are as important as he or she is. Without multiple people in their lives, he or she is nothing. He or she must put all negative thoughts aside in order to save themselves from reliving a lot of painful memories. Everybody knows that God wanted the entire human race to get along well. Right now, I wish every human being on the planet each have an epiphany and were to stop being self-centered and start thinking about others besides themselves. Unless he or she each has an epiphany and until he or she ends his or her selfish ways, he or she will likely spend the remainder of his or her days alone.


Details | Free verse | |

Free Range

Often my thoughts do range far and wide.
But it’s not just my thoughts that skim the tides.
When my Hubby asks and I don’t reply…
He says I’m free ranging again with my mind.
He laughs and tells me to please wake up…
But I’ve already been there, thank you, so much.

Deep in thought and so far away,
He’s still my muse in every way.
But once I get going on that thought…
Look out boys, my mind is set and lost
But don’t you worry. No Sireeee.
When the typing slows you’ll know I’m back, you see.

Those free-range chickens have nothing on me…
I way surpass them in productivity.
And as my words free range far and wide
You’ll find… others may be joyfully joining  me for a time.



Details | Haiku | |

Writer's Block

Blank sheet. Empty head. Ideas not forthcoming. Wastepaper bin full


Details | Quintain (English) | |

A DEN OF DESIRED LONELINESS

I have become a den of desired loneliness,
hiding from society, concentrating on words
that make sense to me, if not to others...
and believe me my stories leave no doubts:
I unearth them from my past to find many truths. 


My hair needs trimming and grooming I resemble a wandering raccoon,
I haven't shaved this morning, just showered in a hurry...
not to miss another contest deadline and lose my price;
and glad to have completed one this afternoon, I'm feeling like a balloon
that goes higher and higher until it reaches the mighty stars.


Details | Acrostic | |

Life

Life is a right, to which everyone should have,
Independently it is the most valuable possession of each living being
Verifying the fact that we only have one chance in this world to make a difference
Even if we see ourselves as a sap that can’t change the mood in our area and that we

Lower our standards to say that even dirt is too good for us
Irrationally stating that we have a miserable life and we need to change it
Forgetting the blessings and the joy that God gave us in our current life
Eventually with remorse he’ll forget all of these things and start over again

To test his strength and will power to continue so that he can
Overcome the odds to achieve a pleasant life

This just states that if we work hard we might have a better chance of being content
However living with this in mind we might think that life is about work.
Everything in this world should be earned by working but what is work compared to

Fun, having fun always makes our work more worthwhile because we now 
Use our energy to enjoy ourselves while working and earning things that we desire and
Losing the old gloomy feeling about work and the world
Letting new and much more pleasant things happen to us and letting us
Escape to the happiness that we might have missed when we’re not content in our life
Surprisingly this is the most common problem in the world today so keep this as a
Thought in mind live everything in a way you might be pleased life is precious 


Details | Monorhyme | |

A RETURN TO THE PAST -Triple Monorhyme

At the arrival of the winter storm, stretching for a mile,
a bockout occurred in a rural town famed for its exquisite wine;
it became very dark as the lights went out in every house...
I felt scarier than a hopeless prisoner in bondage,
but an idea struck me while I stepped on a fleeing mouse.


And while the moonbeams filtered in invitingly, and the crickets sang me
their awkward melody...I couldn't live in darkness and feel safe!
The willows of the reef seemed phantoms moving towards me...
I had a red candle never being used and its glow could have safeguarded me;
at least, I would have had some light shedding on me to keep them away from me!



Didn't poets of long ago write by dim candlelight? Weren't they often taken by rage? 
They used quills to make their work even harder writing in medieval style!
I wasn't expecting a return to the past...it could have caused a disastrous fire...
if I had fallen asleep! But for Heaven's sake, I lived for passion, not waiting to flee!  
My sonnet had to be written throughout that time for my inspiration to survive!


Entered in Russell Sivey's contest,
" Candlelight "


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Writer

If you want to be a writer, you might as well forget money, forget richness, forget happiness, the ink pierces your skin- in, out, in, out, such a pattern of mourning- it strips all pride in hopes you'll quit- give up- like they all do. You might as well sign the contract of death- to die before any work-if that even is published, or merely acknowledged. The steps of becoming one with the pen, and page- begin with hurt there's no way you can achieve a smile when a thousand doubts are slapping your face. Mocking you so you're locked up in your own world- without a key. The pity emphasizes the fact you're unknown and from that you always will be hopes and dreams are stomped on while you continue to change the world with a single line- 7 syllables; I want to be a writer. Well of course you do- but can you run through the eternal disaster? Hoping you get through without a single scar single scratch, blood only kept within. That's the defining moment- blood seeping through- searing feeling of the climax and then it all ends.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Seventh Fable(missing parts)

Webseries Pilot casting call: 
Male, Caucasian, mid 40's to 50's - HG. News talk show host. Strong stanced, 
mix between Bill Oreilly, Larry King. 
Male, open ethnicity, early to mid 30's - JG. Federal Agency Detective.  Good at 
his job, but fresh enough to still want to make a difference. Female, African 
American, mid 20's to mid 30's - AW. Activist. Strong headed attorney with a 
gentle side. 
Male, African American, mid 30's - CH. Sweet dispositioned gangster. 
Male, African American, mid 30's - N. Cool, calm and collected. 
Male, African American, mid 30's - CU. Wing-man type. The right hand man. 
Male, Italian, late 40's - S1. Gangster. 
Male, Italian, late 40's - S2. Gangster. 
Please copy & paste entire description into email submission. 
This is a pilot, apologies, no pay for now. Credit, copy and food. 
You'll be working with a great crew shot on HD equipment. 
Send headshot, qualifications and contact info (more interested in your acting 
abilities than resume). Will call you in on 14th or 15th for reading. Thanks all and 
good luck. 

this is appended to help the reader understnad my poem better than


Details | I do not know? | |

YHWH-Yahweh

The most important name of God in the Old Testament (Ex 3:14)
It can be translated “I AM WHO I AM”
For Jews as well as Christians
It designates the one God of the whole world
Their creator. Preserver
Covenant partner, liberator from slavery in Egypt
Judge and Savior.

11302011


Details | I do not know? | |

Reason to Rejoice 11032011

REJOICE WITH ME BECAUSE I HAVE FOUND THE COIN I LOST LUKE 15:9

WHEN MY FRIEND CALLED to tell me the story of how she lost 
One of her expensive hearing aids
It sounded similar of the lost coin
Diane described how she had taken care of 5 or 6 errands in a day

During that time she placed her hearing aids in her pocket
When she returned home
One of them was missing
Diane hurried back to all places she had been

Retracting every step she searched for the precious item
Her voice held such amazed joy and gratitude 
As she related the moment of actually finding the tiny hearing aid
No wonder Jesus used a story of losing and finding something of value to describe the joy God has over “one sinner who repents

When I hesitate to let go of an old hurt 
Avoid repenting of my wrong doings
I hope the memory of my friend’s enthusiastic discovery
Will nudge me to give the Holy One another reason to rejoice

Readings and Gospel
Romans 14:7-12, Psalm 27:1
Psalm 4, 13-14, 
Luke 5:1-10


Details | Quatern | |

Jesus Christ Deal


Eternal Father saw outnumber of people’s sins 
Sad with what He created
He wanted to destroy the world
People hurting each other

Jesus Christ stopped Him
Told the Father He would go down to earth
Take People’s cruelty
To start His power over people

He told the Father people would understand
Ransom Himself
Just don’t destroy the world
Believed people to be one

Eternal Father searched a woman
To conceive and bear a Son
Angiel Gabriel spoke to Mary
You have found favor from God

Holy Spirit will shine over you
You are to name Him Jesus Christ
He will save people from their sins
To save destruction of the world

Jesus Christ created a Church
For People to be Universal
People don’t understand
In there people are saved

What are these other churches?
In there you are not saved
Don’t be fooled
By the Christ’s like religions


There is only one
Deal to the Father
Be Universal to His Church
Roman Catholic

To understand the Two Greatest Commandments
“Love God all your mind, heart, body and soul”
Second is “Love your neighbor as yourself”
When we love our neighbor, Covers the 1st Greatest Commandment

Other Churches are misleading people
Thought they love Jesus Christ
Person who created their Church
Was the person they believed and loved

Jesus Crist is very hurt
People don’t know in His Church
You’re saved
In others you’re condemned

J.R.M. 11162011


Details | Light Poetry | |

JorgeSouthKorea

This is the man that I am

No need for a detective because I have few mysteries

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

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

I hope you enjoy what you see

A South Korean English teacher by night

An avid writer by day

A helpless romantic somewhere in between

The smile and joy from my students is priceless

Seeing someone enjoy my writings is pretty rewarding as well

I feel that everything in my life is finally going well

From my writings you may find that hard to tell

Sorry I don’t write more fantasies or fables

To convey happy emotions and attract more followers

You are getting my life through my eyes

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

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

My adventures and journeys have been vast

Come with me on this ride

Together we can both be pleasantly surprised

With what I will write

This is the the man that I am



Find more of my writings and poems at jorgesouthkorea.com


Details | Quatrain | |

How did Christ show and prove His divine power


Christ showed and proved His Divine power chiefly by His miracles
Which are extraordinary works that can be performed 
Only by the power received from God
Therefore, His sanction and authority

11282011


Details | Sonnet | |

SONNETEER OF ANOTHER ERA

I'm the sonneteer of another era,
Struggling for fame and dreaming of glories...
Living free in prosperous America,
Where there's hunger for interesting stories.


Invite me to share yours as thrills resume;
I will give my opinion anytime,
But perfect syllables count and strict rhyme scheme
Are required for rhythm to happily chime.


Petrarch and Shakespeare were the greatest
Poets who created remarkable sonnets;
Read their works with unquenchable zest:
You'll discover they wrote them in the hundreds!


Study the unique forms of each sonnet; 
Model yours on them with true interest!    



Details | Quatrain | |

Laity

From Greek laos = people
The common state of life in the church
Baptized, non-ordained Christians
Who belong to the people of God

11302011


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 | Free verse | |

Writing

Subconscious maze of the 
cobwebs of my mind fade
as somehow
I continue a half-finished piece.
With simple pen and paper
I write pages of poetry
devoted to thoughts
which are flowing today.
Memories spring and churn
as my mind wanders,
slipping through my mental gardens;
ideas like roses spring into scenery.
Seeds of unborn stories,
based on yesterday's news
grow into castles of
solitary musings as the pen
unlocks the vellum page.


Details | Quatrain | |

What do we mean by grievous matter

By ‘grievous matter’ with regard to sin mean that the thought
Word or deed which is committed must be either bad in itself
Or severely prohibited
And therefore sufficient to make a mortal sin if we deliberately yield to it


Details | Rhyme | |

Vanity Press

dear mr. electrician you're a man of distinction thank you from me and the spouse for rewiring our house. you have worked hard no wire out of place you toiled and sweated nothing neglected. but we will not pay you and here's the reason why. we will send a patronising letter tell you there's no-one better. photos of your work will appear in an album top quality, leather-bound the cost to you just forty pound. you don't have to buy if you can't afford this sum but the album will be a reminder of a job well done.


Details | I do not know? | |

THE BIBLE DEFINED 11022011

Other source of supernatural knowledge is the Bible
In the words of the Council of Trent
Which enumerated the books of the Bible under their proper titles
The Church declares that she receives

All the books of the Testaments
Old and New
Since the one God is the author of both
The Vatican Council is more explicit

The Church holds those books as sacred
Canonical
Not because
Having been composed by human industry
They were afterwards approved by her authority

Nor, just because
They contain revelation without error
But, having been written under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit
They have God as their Author

The word Bible comes from the Greek ninlion meaning “the book”
The plural is biblia, was taken for a feminine singular
Testaments
The Bible is the Book par Excellence


Details | Free verse | |

Medium of Expression

My palette is my imagination. 
I paint pictures with my words. 
Swirling colours of composition. 
Mixing metaphors - agitating them 
with the paintbrush in my mind. 

My vocabulary is my keyboard. 
Trilling notes of expression. 
Crescendo of composition... 
tumbling, falling....allegro, or 
andante, and harmonised in my creativity. 

My glossary is my tapestry. 
Fixed firmly to the frame of verbal 
inventiveness.  Stitched in synchronacity. 
Cross stitched sometimes - or 
tacked in draft for later publication. 

I cannot sing to you in thrilling arias. 
I cannot paint for you on colourful canvas. 
I cannot play for you in perfected pitch. 
I cannot hang my works of art, 
but I can write what's in my heart - 

and, maybe, I'll touch yours? 


Details | Quatrain | |

What effect has sloth upon the soul


Sloth begets in a soul
A spirit of indifference
In our spiritual duties and
A disgust for prayer

11272011


Details | Free verse | |

All the poets on the soup!

Be it day or late at night
They fight

To pen their next thoughts
Charismatic, romantic, sadness, fights

Friendship, hurt, hate, war, or plain silliness
Poets reach for their inspiration and access

While others thrill with anticipation to absorb
Floating in another place as an orb

Are poets …

Though we don’t always know their face?
But should all embrace

These wonderfully talented people
Share their work shout it out as high as a steeple

Poets are everyday creative folk
They’ll have you laughing at one of their poetic jokes

Poets will take an event or place
And step it up a notch with grace

They can make you feel and see, is thou you were right there
I declare they have a unique flare

Today I say I wish to celebrate the poets on soup
What a fun interesting wonderful group!


(Thank you all of you for your wonderful work and passions)
And thank you to the owner of soup for making all this happen!


Details | Free verse | |

Beggars All

A poem comes in disguise
like a beggar in the mall.
Some sit and look pitiful
and can not meet your eyes.
Others have a story,
"My sister's fatally sick in Ukiah,
please help us we've run out of gas."
Some poems work subliminally,
you wonder if they might be
from another world. They stand
in busy walkways and 
chant "spare change", under
their rancid breath, seemingly
oblivious of you.
Some wear their sign
that tells their life, a life 
that might be yours.
Others affect an air of casualness
as if they were your best friend,
"Say, you got a quarter?".
And then there's the one
in whom you sense such doom
and menace that
you have to cross the street.

You drop your metaphor
in the cups, because
you never know
whether any of them
will work for food,
whether any will really work


Details | Quatrain | |

What are chief sources of sin

Chief sources are Seven
Pride, Greed, Lust
Anger, Gluttony, Envy and Sloth or laziness
Commonly called 7 Capital Sins or 7 Deadly Sins 


Details | Bio | |

late

Damn I'm late. Time moves slow but, sure as the devils footsteps. Ever so lightly 
as sin and time passes by. Damn I'm late. Time is creeping up on you like the 
sure death of cut wrists, and the running out  of air in this box shape life. Damn 
I'm running late, and there is nothing I can do about it, like the ones doomed and 
placed aside for the Pitts of hell. So why rush, why run, why wish, or hope. I'm 
already late. So I guess sorry would be my reasoning for lateness, and time 
would be my reason for my sorries.



Details | Verse | |

My Web Based Poetry

In my poetry I aspire to make beautiful literary webs of interlocked verses that move in the 
nature of silk, yet I usually only produce cobwebs in the corners of scraps of papers.
I weave my webs any where that the fancy strikes me.
Like the silk of the spider my poems come from inside me
I work my poetry out of the vast dark shadows of the human condition.
Like cob webs there isn’t a central theme that holds my poems together.
They are just made up of what ever gets caught in my web. 
Like the Theridiidae I hunt at night trying to devour a poem or two each night.
Like the spider I work fast and furious to justify my existance,trying to leve my mark,before 
I’m reduced to a dried up carcus stuck between the 
secretary desk and the wall.

By Robb A. Kopp
All Rights Reserved © MMX


Details | Free verse | |

Introduction

Since you've decided to read my poetry,
I may as well let you know;
I didn't dicover my talent yesterday,
but about four years ago.

I thought about being a rapper,
musican,
or a movie star;
but I realized that big dreams with no effort wouldn't get me far.

I began to write down my thoughts and dreams,
think hard and put them together;
I studied the people and things around me,
I even took notes about the weather.

All the feelings that I've had or the people who have influenced me,
somehow end up in the lines of my poetry.

When my mind, a pen, and paper meet,
something magical takes place;
so enjoy my poetry and tell me what you think.


Details | Free verse | |

Why I Write

Take a walk with me
Down this street that is in my mind
Past the houses, past the sidewalks
Past the children's playgrounds and ball parks
Walk past all the things you see
And wander into my memories

The past, the present, the future
All rolled into one event
Inside myself I control my destiny
Beyond the physical boundaries
Into that part deep in my soul
Lingering in places only I know

When you read the words
Written and meant to be shared
You touch this place inside
Experience the tears I've cried
See the love and anger too
The disappointments and the dreams come true

I don't write for me
And I don't even write for you
I write because I am compelled
To share a story I must tell
It's not a talent I have been given
It is ordained, predetermined

I write because I have no choice
I write because God gave me the voice

For every heart my words will touch
And for my own heart too
I write to share compassion
I write with fevered passion
To show the world the human side
Of conflict, anger, pain and pride


Details | Rhyme | |

THE PRINTING PRESS OPERATOR

The sound of the presses
   While they run at high speed
      The reporters and editor
         Trying to fill a town's need

The feel of fresh newsprint
   And the smell of the ink
      Working on broken machinery
         Sometimes old and extinct

Trying to meet deadlines
   Proofreading as i go
      A fast-paced stressful job
         But it's work i love so

To see the newspaper
   As it comes hot off the press
      Taking pride in my printing
         For in so many homes it will rest

To leave at days end
   And feel pride in my chest
      Now the town's got their news
         I can go home, get some rest. 


Details | I do not know? | |

Pentecost


Fom Greek pentecoste = the fiftieth day after Easter
Originally feast on whichIsrael celebrated 
The establishment of the covenant with God
On Mount Sinai
Through the Pentecost event in Jerusalem
It became for Christians the feast of the Holy Spirit

11302011


Details | I do not know? | |

Trinity

 

Latin trinitas = the state of being threefold

God is only one but He exist in three persons

The fact that in English we have two terms

The triune God and the Trinity

For the same reality (one emphasizes God’s unity

The other the distinction (of persons in Him)

An indication of the unfathomable mystery of the Trinity

 

11302011


Details | I do not know? | |

Charisms

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
Prophesy
Speaking in tongues and
The gift interpreting them
Wisdom
Knowledge
Firmness in faith and so on
Also included are the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit

11302011


Details | Quatrain | |

What is mortal sin


Mortal sin is grievous offense against the law of God
This sin is called mortal because it deprives us of spiritual life
Sanctifying grace
Brings everlasting death and damnation of the soul


Details | Quatrain | |

What is Gluttony


Gluttony like Greed
Excessive desire of Food or Drink
Part of7 Capital sins or 7 Deadly sins
Jesus Christ requires one to confess


Details | I do not know? | |

Churches and Ecclesial Communities


Many Christian communities on earth call themselves churches
According to the Catholic understanding
Only those in which the sacraments of Jesus Christ’s have been preserved
In their entirety have remained “Church”
This is true especially of the Orthodox and
Eastern Churches
In the ecclesial communities that resulted from the Protestant Reformation
All the sacraments have not been preserved

11302011


Details | I do not know? | |

Hope is in the Future

When your heart grows weaker and you no longer want to fight, 
And the hounds are howling, a struggle in the plight,
Remember, Hope is in the future, the outlook is bright.

When feelings of insecurity quickly begin to grow,
And your spirit is at an all time low, consider this even though, 
Hope is in the future, this I do know.

Sadness surrounds me, life is so unclear.
My hands tremble and am always filled with fear, although I must adhere, 
Hope is in the future, the target is near.

The army grows stronger little will to fight.
Everyone has their own wrong and right, but I know with all my might,
Hope is in the future, with faith not sight.

Summer is not eternal winter will come.
No mortal can comfort what damage has done.
Hope is in the future through Christ God's son.


Details | Lyric | |

Beautiful in My Eyes

Dedicated to my teacher, who has helped me more than she'll ever 
know

When the world denies your hard work 
Refusing your wisdom in years,
Please, just remember what I’m saying,
Please don’t cry any tears. 
People will try to bring you down
No matter what you do
But know this, these words I say,
‘Cause you and I know they are true.
Your hard work has helped me this year
I wouldn’t be who I am without you
This life I live right here and now
Is possible because of what you do.
You encourage my hopes and all my dreams
And help me reach my goal
I wouldn’t be me without you
These seeds, I wouldn’t be able to sow.
You have helped me learn how to write
In fact, you taught me yourself
Whether you’ve realized it or not, 
You’ve helped me become myself.
I can’t imagine eighth grade without you
It’s been a wonderful year
I can’t believe I’m now saying good-bye
And beginning to hold back tears.
I know how you try to be perfect
At least  some of the time,
You like to do everything you can
To help me find a rhythm or a rhyme.
And life isn’t always perfect
In fact, it rarely is
It’s often so sudden and indistinct
It feels like a giant pop quiz.
But no matter where life takes you,
No matter how bad you may want to cry,
Remember these words that I’ve said to you
And know that you’re beautiful in my eyes.


Details | Terza Rima | |

The Tale Spinner

His blockbuster of a book,
just a huge, steaming heap
of a gobbler's gobbledygook,
        praised to highest heavens
        by blabbering blurb-writers
        who gather in drunken covens.

        At the world's philosophies
        he laughed, and scribbled away
        about everyone's tragic ironies
                     with the blazing seriousness
                     of one hopelessly possessed
                     by vicious self-righteousness.

                     ruefully he soliloquizes
                     throughout his glossy pages
                     about mortal whims and frailties,
                                 the haloed, hollowed out lives
                                 of the very rich and famous,
                                 of lovers, husbands and wives.

                                 amazing how they slurp it all up,
                                 the readers just oohed and aahed,
                                 lapping it up like sugary syrup;
                                             awed by his own tale-spinning,
                                             now, with the heartiest private laugh,
                                             he's guffawing, but not quite kidding !


Details | I do not know? | |

Waging War Against a Typewriter

Staring at the blank page before me,
Millions of ideas pulse through my brain, 
Yet none seem to make it to complete thoughts. 
They are merely shades and tints of the nigh subconscious,  
That fine line between dream and reality. 
Minutes pass by like seconds, 
Hours like minutes, and still here before me, 
Contempt,  smirking up at me is this blank page,
Which I have yet to stain.
My pride will not allow my surrender 
To this formidable foe.
Though retreat may be wise,
I would sacrifice my demise by my own dignity 
Rather than give in.
I'm at war with a typewriter, 
Or perhaps with myself. 
Or maybe the clock,
Laughing, mocking me from its perch upon the wall. 
My head begins to spin as I attempt to type
All of these ideas flying slightly out of my reach.
I thrash my arms helplessly about,
Wishing for anything to grasp on to.
And I see the page there,
Staring now  with amusement.
This kindles my already raging inferno
Of hate, confusion, and swarming ideas. 
I begin violently, blindly punching away at the keys,
Typing anything to cover the blank page,
Needing to find escape from its cruel glares.
I was then at war with the typewriter, 
Or perhaps with myself.
Knowing I could not allow defeat,
I gave all I had 
To slay this pugilistic foe,
Allowing my emotion to guide me,
Rather than my logic.
Hours ago I had merely planned to write a poem,
And now I am waging war 
Against my own mind and my own typewriter.
In the process of creation,
I have destroyed myself.


Details | Free verse | |

Penguin Poet

 Penguin Poet 
Penguin Poet 
 
The Batman was standing to the side of the bumbershooter looking askance at 
the penguins' aide so intent was the man in the plastic wrapper that he failed to 
see Robin coming up behind them and lost his nanner in a Robin manner he 
was soon tied up like a handcuff furrowing into the background noises of the 
Penguin lair the hair of the penguin was slick jetted black ebon nighttime fright 
and he launched a bird kick almost getting Batman in the jaw Robin came 
unglued and he is rally very strong he launched another bird kick in the belly of 
the thug. 
 
 WHAM Whack Thwack POW SOCK WHAM the fight was soon over and the 
Penguin land in jail. 
 



Details | Rhyme | |

Clown Poet

He had a way with words, 
       spoken or written,

       could clown around with them, 
              could leave you smitten,

              but he could be most sober, 
                     and somber, too,

                     and leave you with a hybrid 
                            point of view.


Beneath a tree, his epitaph 
       winks at me:

        "Lachrymose don't be,  
               this isn't  tragedy,

               you should've seen my dad 
                      doing comedy,

                      well, apples fall near the tree 
                             where I pee."




Details | Free verse | |

A Perfect Poet

 A Perfect Poet 
A Perfect Poet 
 
 
He wrote the poem and spelled the words so incorrectly he must tell his word 
document to ignore the half of it. He tries to make a style stand out to be 
eecummings in his heart he starts an idea and makes it work somewhat then he 
twists the center until it gels and bleeds then he turns the ending until it seems 
like just the ticket for the transfer on the bus ride home a perfect gnome a self 
important man so far from home a place in time already gone so all alone and 
hurt the day will come when attitude will win and all the people lose there hate 
and poets win and a perfect poet rides the wind and the blanket gets so wet at 
times and the life spills out when love arrives. AH HA he cried a perfect poet is 
the plan a perfect poem is a different thing. 


Details | Nonet | |

Cliché

Cliché is my editor’s only 
enemy. He lives, entirely 
his own life, upon the sea 
of muses where this C-
word is not to be 
used by any 
editor 
just like 
me


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Letter To A Poet

To you, my favorite Poet

I view you, as my sole comforter
You comfort me, with the beauty
Of your songs and verses
Written, by the power of your spirit

With love and passion; your work
Topped the best-sellers’ lists, a world record 
I believe, no word travelers can break it
No matter, how best they tried

I really have no idea how you did it
But truly, you’ve amazed millions of readers
With your thoughts, calm as the sea at night
Bringing peace and hope, into their hearts

Thou, many of your so-called fans excelled
In their own writings, yet, they failed
To capture the brevity of your word
They, too, failed to unearth its mystery

Oh, by the way, I found a translation of your
Book, it’s in my 7th tongues---the Modern Greek
Left purportedly, by one of your procrastinators
In a wooden shelve, in the attic-room

Adorned with dust, but, when I blew it away
Voila, my life has changed, completely
A better life
That you, instantly, became my favorite poet

You, the greatest, of all time
Greater than any poets/authors, living or dead
Your masterpiece translated into different languages
…..for those who wish to learn your wisdom

Now, that you’ve shown me 
The new life, with the strong guidance 
Of your lovely rhymes and styles
Yours, I will, steadfastly, bind them 

In my heart, forever, for without You---my God
There will never be me, your new born child
Nor, there’ll be poets such as Poe, Frost or Pushkin
If, you had not lend them, your silver quill


  


Details | Light Poetry | |

DECEPTION

Deceived by the perceptions of  what the eyes see. Then analyzing  the thoughts 
in your mind. Could this be an illusion swimming around in my head.
Deceived by diplomacy canidates making promises they can not  keep.Lying 
and  scandalizing all in the name of another vote. Talk is all the citizens receive 
and  change  becomes another diluted situation for all to see.
Deceived to conceive the pie in the sky mentality. Discover something that you 
like to do , and money will chase you. Chasing it will cause you heartache and 
misery .
Deceived to think that society has your best interest at heart and working until 62 
that social security will be waiting for you.
Deceived and perplexed between two different opinions could one of them be 
fact or fiction . Deceived  perception is reality looking from the windows of my 
soul. Is what  I see really real? Or is it just man using his skills to deceive me 
once again..... deceived !


Details | Free verse | |

McHuge a Love

 McHuge a Love 
McHuge a Love 

ewe can no more beard an eagle than prove it means the world: 
no sooner bald an eagle than anylyze a god; 
yet GOD amazes us alighted or aloft: 
and gives us faith so much 
a verse eye found on a book of poetry 
altered by this poet mee 
in all humility for Heather and the ewe 
my splendid love 
still inside my aged heart 
writ by Charlax Bard


Details | I do not know? | |

I (Clarity Pyramid)



                         I-
                    Painter
                   not of oil
 
       but words from the heart
    impressed in rhythmic form
   with a blood scent of my quill-

“flowing, for the unknown reader”   


Details | Free verse | |

The Letter Change

 The Letter Change 
The Letter Change 
 
 
 One word one entire word one letter of an entire word one letter of a word 
changes the entire meaning of a line and can change the entire meaning of a 
poem try the thing on for size oh gentle reader ewe and see if eye am write. 
When gives some idea of time when eye then changed the w to a t then it 
became then and changed the meaning of the sentence to be then to be a 
somewhat different idea the time change made it seem to be a different direction 
a different place as if it is now a change takes place and makes the poem so 
much better than just a past mistake would seem to enhance the poem just to 
make it bleed please tell no one oh precious ewe that it was accident and just 
mistaken typing and let them all think me the genius that eye am for loving ewe. 
When then the letter change. 


Details | Rhyme | |

Just Write

Just write they say
Of a bio or an article
Poetry is just a hobby
Nothing short of a miracle

Just write your essays
As you’ve always done
They say they like my poetry
But it’s merely just for fun

Just write your diary entries
Continue to nourish your mind
Your poetry is cute my dear
But it’s simply silly rhymes

Just write they say
And that’s just what I’ll do
They blindly see the purpose
And the power of a poetry debut 

© Stacy Lynn Stiles


Details | Lyric | |

Prowler Of Emotions


I am Poet.
The unrelenting prowler
of emotions

and I walk 

day and night,
reaching 

to edges of life.
And, through my creations-
my voice,

I give

words
to the unspoken

feelings, 
dowered with such beauty,
truth and pain. 


Details | Rhyme | |

Haphazardly Poetic

           If  you're a judge in a poetry contest 
                              elimination,
         look again and again before you jump 
                        into a conclusion;


         Printed words may look like black ants 
                     in batallion formation
         or squads of stragglers crawling out 
                    with uncertain direction;


  Oftentimes they're chunks, slices and splinters 
                        of random thoughts
      haphazardly strewn on the pages like black, 
                       burnt wings of moths;


They may not have creative sparks, rhythmic pace 
                              or inspiration,
         but behind haphazardness itself may be 
                               imagination.


Details | Free verse | |

Lost And Found

Lost And Found
Every airport and bus station and any public patterned place has a lost and found 
department the idea of this new poem come to me in one a library made of love 
listen as eye make my poetical approach
Good morning desk person please may eye see inside the lost and found box 
please (conscience speaks) (eye did not rally lose not anything just let me see 
what’s there so eye can score) well eye need to see what’s there to help me 
remember what eye lost you found it eye am sure there could not be a thief at foot 
in a library made of love.


Details | Light Poetry | |

FIGHT

I work with the dogs in the dirt .Sun up, sun down and man do I hurt due to 
working with the dogs in the dirt. Will  there ever be a break for me?I'm not talking 
about the fantasy of hitting the New York State Lottery.

Working to pay the rent for this little tent is just insane. I know there's a better 
place to rest to digest this thing called life.

Living for the day that both of my ends meet.Then I can be a blessing to the less 
without any mess from the stress of those you know.

Working with the dogs in the dirt has causes me many hurts that fertilized the 
growth potential, making me a powerful woman, you see. Working through the 
mess has really caused me to be bless. Yes there  will be stress that will cause 
you to think you're not bless by the best.But after the stresse there's plenty of 
rest,so  you can pass the next test.

So work with the dogs in the dirt,because afer the pain ,there's so much gain in 
so many ways you see; and not in material things and money.It may seem kind 
of funny. I like being apart of God's wonderful army

So work with the dogs in the dirt.So what, you got hurt .There's a healing that will 
cause a spiritual building in the inner  man; it's all a part of God's strategy plan to 
defeat the enemy.

Come on and be a part of God's wonderful army. So work with the dogs in the 
dirt.


Details | Free verse | |

Eye Apologize

Eye Apologize
Eye take a picture no not take eye FIND a picture just suddenly upon the internet 
and then eye use it eye am guilty of all my pictures eye make my banners they 
are not stolen eye created them each and every one of them but the pictures they 
are all stolen Eye confess and Eye apologize they looked so nice they seemed to 
fit please forgive me let me do no time let the pictures continue to be mine let the 
poems seem to be a story placed in the pictures for all the world to see a stage 
upon the Ethernet for every girl and boy please understand me none of them the 
pictures are ribald they please the eye they please mye ewe they are adult 
sometimes so watch the poems with the children please while somewhere in 
the cactus patch eye continue to apologize


Details | Free verse | |

CharlaX Pleas

CharlaX Pleas
Writers have a deadline most people work at something even written work is 
work it takes some typing with both hands not every poet is an ASIMOV not every 
writer is Heinlein pleas read the charlax poems please for the day will come 
quite soon infact when there is only none someday eye will not be able to refresh 
the website while I’m able to write down these pearls of wisdom given to a poor 
man from his GOD make a journey in my poem list given me from the poetry vine 
look at some read them listen to the pretty music look at all the stolen pictures 
while there is still some time gentle reader ewe be mine a homeless creature 
eye become.