Person of colour is coherently germane,
He is never insane.
Some things about this person of colour may seem strange,
He is simple and he is yet to engage.
This person of colour loves the critics,
It is from them, he ticks.
This person of colour is natural,
And so, he is not a trial.
This person of colour loves to exchange
Ideas beyond his range.
This person of colour loves keyboard,
Tis with this he comes on board.
This person of colour is a charcoal- a black beauty.
This person of colour is me.
Fog settles on the tombstones. In the dark, an eerie blue,
the graveyard is a misty ocean Raven passes through.
She stops. The solitary site is grim, devoid of any sound.
Her long black gown, a ruffled slip, is satin sweeping ground.
Sable locks lie smooth and straight across her graceful back.
Stark contrast is her alabaster skin to hair pitch-black.
This woman - with a beauty that always captivates -
now stands, a pistol in her hand, and there steadfastly waits.
Told the man that she adores (who left some time ago)
lies buried here, the woman’s come, for Raven has to know!
She can’t believe that he could be here in this place of doom.
He’d left for war before they’d barely been a bride and groom.
Raven looks out on the sea of mist; her eyes have teared
because those birds that bear her name have suddenly appeared.
A sign it has to be, she thinks. The ravens drawing near
are circling above one stone. Her heart is seized with fear.
Raven walks to where the birds are circling above.
She pales. . . The stone she’s reading bears the name of her true love.
The fog, a sea engulfing all, has swallowed Raven too.
Gun raised, she drops down to his grave; she knows what she must do.
Inspired by the Contest "Among the Dead"
Sponsored by Constance ~ A Rambling Poet ~
There is a spirit that watches over you
In the daylight hours, and nightime too.
You may not think that they are there
But there is a way to make you aware.
I learned the name of my angel a long time ago
Because I was interested and I wanted to know.
His name is "Maximus" and is with me here
To learn of his presence once made me fear.
Because what you do is watched all the day
The angel keeps tabs, God finds out that way.
I guess you think I'm being naive
Trust your faith, if you believe.
If you want to know your angel's name
There is a way to find out which is no game.
Say a prayer for three days in a row
And after each time ask him to reveal his name to you.
If you believe in him he will tell you true
If not, he may be silent to you.
I know of others who have tried this I can say
Some, have learned the names of their angels this way.
When you pray for their name do not think it absurd
Some, I know, will hear that singular word.
It won't come as a shout from heaven on high
But rather as a whisper, when your angel is nigh.
These spiritual beings are here for us all
Sometimes they wait just to here us call.
And when you do wouldn't if be grand
If you knew the spirit's name...who behind you stands!
Try it and see if you think I'm fooling around
Be honest with yourself with both feet on the ground.
As someday that spiritual angel you will greet
Wouldn't it be nice to be on a "first name" basis when you meet?
And if you try but do not hear their name
Keep on trying because your conviction was lame.
I know many will think I'm crazy with this
But knowing my angel's name has brought comfort and bliss.
So try it yourself and see if in kind
If your angel will speak to you...they really don't mind.
Because then a dialogue with them you can share,
Even if they never speak again, you'll know...they're there.
What is true love really all about?
Lets break it down and check it out
True love is about the highs and lows
Learning to live and learning to grow
Learning to give all that you have got
And never thinking, “like it or not”
It’s about changing the person you are
And never letting things go to far
True love is about a faithful friend
One who helps your heart to mend
Someone with which you can relate
Look to the stars and plan your fate
It’s about honesty and it’s about trust
Has little or nothing to do with lust
I once was lost with a barren soul
Then an angel made me her goal
She helped me face all of my fears
Never failed to understand my tears
She has stood by me through it all
Helped me to stand proud and tall
Taught me to live without addiction
Helped to heal my every affliction
Gives me the desire to rise above
Be all I can in the name of love
Written for Antoinette to enter
into John's "Love Contest."
“Oh Emma, my cherished and unholy soulmate;
Woman of air! Raw phrases leap with love and hate.
Behind glasses seethes a romantic, daring the night
August child of gothic verse, lines we all recite.
Yet , when soirees roll, your flame the men desire;
It surprises me how that glance changes like fire!
In class, we ignite our teachers’ ire with naughty quirks
Creating romps as the batch mimes our theatrics.
Tonight, we pluck more wild seeds of younger memoirs
Still coloring our lives as time waits for girl- hours.”
* Emma is a dear friend way back in college. As an activist,
writer, and down-to-earth woman, she graduated with cum laude
honors. We regularly meet up to bond and nourish our friendship.
Emma Contest of Juli-Michelle
His praises are upon my lips and shall forever be
what He has done for me some will never see.
The breath of life He breathed into me
made me His for all eternity.
Life He created and placed on Earth
some have dragged in the dirt.
The raging sea which gave other the cold chill
He commanded by stating, "Peace Be Still!"
the hungry gathering multitude
He fed with five fish and loaves with loving gratitude.
At the wedding of Canaan He turned water into wine
many drank and thought it was just fine.
He walked upon a deep sea with blue water
which some may have tried thereafter.
To the blind He gave their sight
they praised His name and made things right.
Many rushed to touch His garment
for their actions He rendered unto them an achievement.
Those who were lame and unable to walk
He touched and they stood up and talked.
His words were His bond and awakened many people
today His words are heard from buildings with steeples.
His love brought everlasting life unto many
one may even call it the light of an epiphany.
His grace saved the souls of many going astray
being saved by His grace they knelt down and started to pray.
His loving touch felt like a soothing and healing balm
many upon feeling His soft hand their hearts became calm.
He stood still and commanded, "Lazarus Come Forth!"
those who were present witnessed an awesome rebirth.
On the eyes of a blind man He rubbed clay
he received his sight and praised Him all day.
He was and still is the Savior and Miracle Worker
unto many souls He is forever their Caretaker!
© Joseph S. Spence, Sr., 8/8/09
© All Rights Reserved
Joseph S. Spence, Sr., is the author of "The Awakened One Poetics" (2009), which is
published in seven different languages. He invented the Epulaeryu poetry form, which
focuses on succulent cuisines and drinks. He is published in various forums, including the
World Haiku Association; Poetinis Druskininku, Milwaukee Area College, Phoenix Magazine;
Möbius Poetry, and Taj Mahal Review to name a few. Joseph is a Goodwill Ambassador for
the state of Arkansas, USA, a college faculty, and a military veteran.
THIS IS HOW LIFE FEELS WHEN YOU GET TO BE MY AGE
I have a general philosophical precept
Life is in general a bowl of cherries except
When someone stabs me in the back who didn’t oughta
From a completely unexpected quarter
I mean it’s ok if some dude whom I don’t like or trust
Has a go at me and feels he must
But if my wife tells me I continually bug her with my fidgets
And then she runs off with a team of one-legged circus midgets
Or my kids sell their hand-bound volumes of my poems
To buy a ton of horse manure to mix with the garden loams
And even the cat turns down my offer of warm milk
To go next door and sleep on sheets of silk
Or if a poetry contest excludes me simply because my name
Is unacceptable, maybe because I am black, or lacking in fame,
Or because I’m Methodist, and gay, and Republican, and from East Lansing,
Then I say to myself, well here’s the thing:
If, along with my poem entry, I’ve slipped in fifty bucks,
Well then how can I be excluded? I mean shucks -
Rules is rules but when I’ve already paid to be in the winners’ list
I feel I have the right, and I just gotta insist,
Cos midgets and fidgets don’t amount to squat
And sheets of silk or loads of horse manure is a lot
But my name’s my pride and joy and I am proud to add it
(But I fear to do it again in this contest or I’ve had it),
So in this contest I will remain anonymous
Though I guess the details writ here are just about synonymous
With a name I do not dare speak - at risk of exclusion
But I’m pretty sure this extra fifty bucks will lessen the confusion.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Written - with great affection - for
Nancy Jones's Contest "This is how life feels when you get to be my age..."
Truth and Light can still make this country really thrive;
even if it seems like the spirit of this country died.
Don't give up fighting, prosperity is still here.
In His Name we have to stand, and in His name there's no fear!
I started this day off with a smile and was in a cheerful spirits,
Then someone spoke your name and I couldn't bare to hear it.
It cut straight through my core and pierced me deep within my soul.
Then came the crying , the sobbing and the emotions that I can't control.
It's like having an open wound from white phosphorus never healing inside,
and it burns and tares through me, when I accept that you died.
I block out the heartache, sometimes for days and days on end,
But as soon as I hear your sweet name it all starts over again.
I cry and I cry, The tears feel like boiling oil running down my face,
I don't know how can I stop grieving a pure love that can't be replaced.
I swear I can't breathe at times, I fall down to my knees,
To the world they don't understand why i feel such loss for my niece.
But you weren't just a niece, nor just a daughter, sister or Friend.
To our family you were an Angel from God, that we put on lend.
I am tired of pretending that you're still 3,000 miles away,
and that I can pack up and come see you and hold you again one day.
I am tired of refusing to look at your pictures, and of not speaking Your name.
And I am angry that you are gone, gone.... forever, and I have noone to blame.
I could go on and on forever, but, I feel more than I can express,
yet my words will fix nothing for, they can't wake you from eternal rest.
For the One I Know
In the ray of the rising sky
Will I raise my voice to the Most High
To glorify His Gracious name
The one that is never the same
With anything or bear by lords or gods.
On kneel will I affirm that no gods
Like Him. He is pure, He is One
And will remain Holy One in town.
His mercy cut across Whole clan
He mold. His Glorious vein... and His 'can'
Makes Him the Ever-living Superior
Being. While all remain inferior
Of everything a nation or society
Can claim. He maintains unequivocal entity
In history, as far as minds know
And as far as ancestors flow;
No Wisdom will... or surpassed His
“Being” and “Being Not”, which is of His
Understanding, the why- no one overrules Him.
Signs… and knowledge is Him,
That no mission and vision mask His bowls:
The why His “Be” and “Be not” is beyond owls.
At the climax of the caressing heavens
Will I not retreat to bow, and will bring on His evens
To the navel, the sea, the fountain, the soil…
And by His Grace will I cease not but toil
And eat joyfully from my earnings;
To equally appreciate my bearings,
And confer respect and honor -the glue-
To whom, He stressed and concurred, is due…
For God, and only Him will I not stop being loyal…
And will I not complain… with little or no royal.
I pray at the verge of collapse:
An alternating moment of taps,
Should I not, get tired of exalting His names.
For He’s Ever-worthy of His names;
Deserving is He to be glorified -the loving good God;
And Worthy is He to me -the Almighty God.
Will I not: I will not
Should I not: I should not
For: Suzanne Delaney's 'Let's Be Open' Contest.