I am the ring around Saturn
spinning words as particles of ice and dust
with the power to transcend
I am the original chosen to be right here right now
transmitting verbal frequencies
through speaking my thoughts into existence
I am the heir of omnipotence,
born with a direct connection to profound abundance
The one whose words will age, yet still have substance;
since there are no boundaries attached to my pen
I am constant energy
Translating personal experience into imagery
Vulnerable to tyranny,
yet i continue attempting to share some truth
through this abstract language of poetry
I am the core
I am that I am more
I am the Divine Presence that is the Source of my rewards
I am the green you get when you mix too much yellow with the blue
That shade of gold you get when the sun resides into darkness
and when it ascends in the dawn burning dew
I am the transition between the third and fourth dimension of time;
the love you feel when you realize how it feels
I am the poem that is abstractly direct
because I write beyond limits
absorbing frequencies from 3 to 8 hertz
through meditation for several minutes
I am the one bridging the gap between
the analog ascension and the direct connection to spirit
The one who is love
because I am a descendent of it
I am the rhythm that the wind blows
I am the beginning and the ending of stories told
about the universe and how miracles unfold
I hold the power to accept judgement from those who will do just that
Not knowing that I am them in the absolute reality of me
I am knowledge beyond measure because that is my right
So I continue meeting the different parts of me
when I meditate and write
Who am I?
I AM, THAT, I AM
Copyright © humble b | Year Posted 2012
we strive to make sure
each day enlightens us
and brightens us
even as light fades to gray
may we keep fighting
with two swollen feet
beneath the body and soul
and intense life lessons
meshed with stresses
may we persevere
turn off fear's song
may we stand firm
as we glide along
through shifty winds of change
that may cause things to sway
but we hold true
inside the values and morality
we stand for
fall for nothing
may stumble along the trip
may swerve at the wheel yet
do not lose our grip
because no one
can eclipse the sun
before they're done
Just when situations arise
flooding us with pain we despise
and just when it seems like
our tear ducts are dry
from ongoing cries
we may think
things are on the brink of ending
then God shows us the ways of faith
by way of love that he's sending
we make sure
every day enlightens us
and brightens us
as each day takes its turn.
Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2012
A fleeting still small voice tries to warn me
A sudden overwhelming desire to run
The tell tale taste of metallic flakes
Means my nightmare has begun
Everything around takes on a ghostly pallor
A landscape of anguish and corrosion
A moment of silence before the violence
The flash of light, the brilliant explosion
The sound of the Sun fills my ears
Fear, my throat, though none escapes me
And paralyzed I clench my eyes
As my tormentor prepares to rape me
And it's endeavor is absolute
Consumption is its ultimate goal
It exists to chase me so it can erase me
Whilst feasting on my soul
And then that familiar salty smell
The sudden rush of warmth so stings
Engaging me relentlessly
In vile unspeakable things
Over and over and over again
My limbs stretched and wrought
As it's teeth tear my bones bare
It's mind defiles my thoughts
And still wounds beget wounds beget wounds
As in the mouth of madness I suffer
And with every injury he just seems to be
Rougher and rougher and rougher
Then just as suddenly as it began it ceases
And for a moment I am clearer
And then the true horror of it all
Is revealed in a darkly lit mirror
There in front of me stands my destroyer
Face flush with it's fill of my pain
And I find that it's eyes and mine
My God, they’re one in the same
Copyright © James Burns | Year Posted 2011
There once was a man from Niagara
whose wiener's so long it would stab ya'
but when it got little
his pills became skittles
until he O.D.'d on Viagra
© ~JSLambert 2011*****A classic "stiff" competitor, standing "firm" amongst other "members" in the "thick" of the competition:) hope everyone gets "a rise" out of it!
Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2011
This year I turned the big ‘5-0’
And my body is acting strange
So I went to see the doctor who said
Not to worry, as I was going through ‘the change.’
“Is there anything I can take?” I asked
He replied, “There’s HRT
But I don’t believe in prescribing it,
Let’s try to deal with this naturally!”
You could have knocked me backwards
And I thought, all well and good for him
It wasn’t his raging hormones
Making him feel like a stranger within
He doesn’t get narked, by the little things
That before would go over his head
Or wake up at night, in a lather of sweat
And have to get up to change his bed
It isn’t him having palpitations
Which make you feel like you’re going to die
It’s not him, who feels angry one moment
And the next as if he could cry
He’s not lapsing in concentration
Or feels like he’s his losing his mind,
Because he put the milk in the washing machine
And it took him an hour to find!
It isn’t he who keeps feeling so crap
When a ‘monthly’ is missed or comes late
And I bet he never just has to look at food
In order for him to gain weight!
He’s not always taking medicine for thrush
Or constantly needing to pee
So I bet he’d be first to pop the pills
If it was him going through this, not me
So I looked at him and said “I’ll give it a go
But I don’t really hold much hope”
And walked out of his surgery, feeling as though
I could have hung him with some rope!
But off I went and months have gone past
Of getting worse doing - ‘naturally,’
So I’ve made an appointment with a lady doc
Who might take pity, and prescribe ‘HRT.’
Copyright © Janette Fisher | Year Posted 2009
Midnight. This white ward
drifts softly through chalked moonbeams
shifting walls argent to cream,
sifting sterile halls.
Full moon fingers reach within
touching each silvered sheet-shroud.
Jaded nurses drowse,
vials drip crystalline hope
elixirs into sick veins,
bedside water jugs
shimmer with ivory pearls,
glimmer-gentle light soothes pain.
Shades of frailty flit,
whisperings of the once-well;
escapees from harsh daylight's
hot taunts of the sun.
moonlight kinder to dreaming.
Caught between two worlds,
health and no-way-out unhealth;
fear smoothed by the balm of calm.
in this vault of dream we wait
for morning's impending fate.
Copyright © Charlotte Jade Puddifoot | Year Posted 2011
I do not know?
I love you just the way you are
(after they buff that awful scar)
and laser the tattoos over your heart
I'm sure we're destined never to part
Remember to tuck up that cute
and put those buttocks back where
Do ask about Lypo and
wax that moustache
and while you are at it get those teeth
A beautiful smile in no time they say
it Looks great and it seems such a small
price to pay
For love such as ours that
withstands any crisis
so while you are there just look
into the prices
of permanent lashes and
green contacts honey
and buy some new clothes
for it's well worth the money
a wig or a dye job will top
off the look
and get those new nails that
we saw in that book
I love you for you
but it's so plain to see
There's really a much better you
you can be
So call me next year
after all transformations
(I'm sure you'll exceed all of
Just fax me a photo
I'll show it with pride
But remember I love you
for the you that's inside!
Copyright © Johnette Loefgren | Year Posted 2005
A kiss from a rose on a sunset night,
as the clouds dip into the sea.
A kiss from that rose as the waves fall,
over the beach to a rose kissed me.
A kiss from a rose on a sunset night,
as we wrap in lovers embrace.
A kiss from a rose as homeward we go,
to a bed clothed in satin and lace.
A kiss from a rose on a sunset night,
with passion and warmth do we grasp.
A kiss from that rose that blossoms and blooms,
my hand in her labour pain clasp.
A kiss from a rose on a sunset night,
that wanton and curvy young bride.
A kiss from that rose that huddles our babe,
so loving, in motherly pride.
A kiss from a rose on a sunset night,
without whom I'd not share my life.
A kiss from that rose who selflessly filled,
the place of my darling rose wife!
(c) anaisanais - A M Docherty - Wales, United Kingdom. (7/8/2013)
Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty | Year Posted 2009
I wish I could walk without feeling pain
I wish I could live my life again.
I dream of a time when I could run like a deer
I could jump like a gazelle with nothing to fear.
I could climb like cat and swim like fish
I can not do these things and yet I can wish.
I can dream of a day many years gone by
I could dream and pray for that bus to pass by.
I could dream my mum missed it and didn’t get on
I could dream she forgot my vaccination had not been done.
I can sit here and daydream day after day and wish that jab had gone right
I can dream I am fit, but I’m not, it went wrong, and now I have learned how
I can if not careful, wish and dream my whole life away
But there is no point in that, that’s what I say.
But the vaccine went wrong, and no wishes or dreams can it change
I just have to get on with my life, there is no sale or return or exchange.
Wishes are for kids and dreams are for bed
I wish I was a kid and could lay down my head.
I am tired and fed up and the wind is so cold
I wish I did not suddenly feel old.
I am reading this back and thinking boy, this isn’t me
I am going to get up and with a certainty
I am going to fix that toilet for once and for all
Even if I have to rip it off, that bloody bathroom wall.
Self Pity is over and I feel a bit of a nit
And my last dream is I am back in bed with Brad Pitt.
Copyright © Mandy Tams The Golden Girl | Year Posted 2011
No longer at desk the typewriter has been given
it's final rest.
As he cant recall the day or year.
The once strong mind is closed the body
but a museum or tribute to what once was.
he his home but locked within himself.
Vist's from thoose who once knew the man
are like people viewing a body at a wake.
he calls from within the shell for for release.
Yet his lips will not move his voice never sounds.
Inside he burns for the chance to run as the river
chases the sea.
To be the man they never knew and the one he
could admire and both despise.
The page sits in typewriter like a willing
eager lover in bed.
Waitting in stockings that cling to delicate thigh.
the tears escapes it's minds prison.
He thirsts for it like a drunk for that morning drink
of whiskey waitting hands held togather trying
to keep from shaking.
He sits as a painter without hand.
watching the most beautiful sunset fade without
a chance of ever capturing this moment.
The ink is drying he feels it everyday.
Soon he hopes like the dust that does gather
he will be swept away.
Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo | Year Posted 2009
Pink- Pink- Pink-
Every peak has its own attractions,
Like the mountains,
The mounts of a woman,
Have always remained,
Her pride possessions. 01
It has the charms,
More intoxicating than wine,
As it reveals the beauty,
Of a woman's alluring binds. 02
These mounts gives,
The wings of imagination and colors,
In the mind of an artist,
And they arise the passion,
In lovers mind.03
Their rise and fall,
Has shaken great empires,
Under their cool and peaceful shade,
The dreams of a child form shapes. 04
Its serenity has given birth,
To most pious and holy figures on Earth,
And their warmth have shaped the dreams,
Of many powerful kingdoms on Earth.05
They feed life giving milk,
To every new born light,
Every time they laugh and cry,
These lofty mounts,
Help in forming shapes,
When the child begins its story. 06
But these pride possessions,
Of a woman,
These lofty inspirations,
Of Poets, Writers and Artists,
These magical charms
Which often become more attractive,
Than the face of a woman,
A wide spread pollution,*
Which is the unwanted gift of
Modern living and
They are also the gifts,
Of worst living habits,
Adopted by thousands,
and millions of woman,
As they fall prey,
Before the charms,
And shows of modern generation. 07
Many such wonderful women,
Who are in the grip of this pollution,*
Have brought this curse on them,
Of their own follies and errors. 08
Many such suffering women,
Can really get rid of,
From the curse of this pollution,*
If only they can show,
The courage to adopt,
The natural way,
Of living and breathing,
Possible under the boon like shade,
Of real Yoga. 09
Of the distortions,*
Of their pink pink ribbons,
Are mainly the results,
Of their own creations,
And these results,
Are not something,
One should blame,
The destiny or God every time. 10
Some of the serious reasons are,
Not caring rightly,
For one’s own pride possessions,
And the lack of,
A cool and calm mind,
From morning till night,
All the junk foods and wine. 11
Beyond all time limits,
your peaceful mind. 12
Running and more running
To catch others,
So that you may not leg behind. 13
And madly crying,
For more and more wealth,
Even if you have sufficient,
For your life time. 14
Are the reasons,
Which invite the pollution,*
To sow its rotten seeds,
The enchanting valley,
Amid the mounts of,
Pink pink flowers. 15
Can still be derived out,
With the little practice of Yoga,
But it remains untouched,
And unsung about,
By most of the modern women. 16
These otherwise elegant women,
Regularly face the problems,
Lack of peace,
And sound sleep.
Which ultimately take away,
And coolness of mind,
Resulting in strengthening more,
The un sprouted seeds of pollution.* 17
Still it is not too late,
If they can only change,
Their life styles,
Their eating and drinking habits,
And adopt from today,
The way of natural living,
The boon like Yoga. 18
As the practice of Yoga,
Not only add years to your life,
But life to your years, as well. 19
Kanpur India 15th Nov. 2012
*Pollution- The other name of Cancer.
Those who want to share their views on My above Poem may
write to me on my yahoo mail id: firstname.lastname@example.org I
would welcome your brief comments and if possible I will reply
you. Thanking you in anticipation. Ravindra K Kapoor
Inspired by Poet Destroyer I am dedicating this Poem to all those women of the world, who are facing any such problem of Pollution* And to those also who are not facing it, so that their life my feel the joy of living under the blessings of Yoga.
TO OVERCOME OR TO TAKE PRECAUTION ON THIS PROBLEM UP TO SOME EXTENT- ONE CAN START WITH ANY ONE OR TWO OR THREE OR ALL FIVE OF THE SIMPLE YOGA EXERCISES I HAVE GIVEN IN MY ‘YOGA IN POEM’ SERIES 1 TO 5 ON POETRY SOUP IT- SELF. YOUR COMMENTS WOULD BE HIGHLY APPRECIATED. http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=490745
IMPORTANT NOTE: The best effects of Yoga can only be obtained if it includes the main exercises of essential ‘PRANAYAMA’ otherwise it wouldn’t yield the desired results and PRANYAM should be learn properly first. Ravindra K Kapoor
Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor | Year Posted 2012
A Prayer for my Wife
Now I’ll tell you all the details if I can keep from sheddin’ a tear
Last night when it got late and really quiet around here
I got down on my knees, crossed my heart and began to pray
And in the darkness between me and God, here’s what I had to say
I love her so much Lord and I just don’t know what I’d do
I’m afraid that she won’t make it, that’s why I’m coming to you
Here with my heart open, at your mercy down on my knees
I’m begging’ you with every heartbeat, Oh Lord hear my pleas
I don’t know what your plans are or what you have in store
And I know I don’t deserve her and that she deserves much more
And don’t misunderstand Lord, I don’t assume any obligation
For your bounty in our life has exceeded all our expectations
But please allow her to live and me to be a part of that life
And I swear I’ll make this beautiful woman proud to be my wife
And if it’s not in your plans Lord then I pray that you take me instead
Cause’ I can’t live without my love, I’d be better off dead
And no excuses for my past Lord, but I’ll do better than I’ve done
I ask you only this, my lord, in the name of your Son.
I wiped my tears as I said my amen’s and prepared myself to stand
Stepped up next to your bed and began to caress your pretty hand
I stared off into space as all the memories came flooding in
Reliving each and every moment, over and over again
And as the first rays of sunshine, streamed in past the curtain
I felt an overwhelming peace calm my mind and ease the hurtin’
I felt compelled to kiss you so I pressed my lips to your face
And it seemed the room was filled in the beauty of God’s living grace
And you slowly opened your eyes and smiled for me to see
And I knew the Lord my God had given my sweet wife back to me
Copyright © James Burns | Year Posted 2010
We live in a world where sickness abounds,
Sometimes stumping the best of providers.
Symptoms and tests almost always expound,
While the emotional costs grow wider.
The travel and care and expenses we bare,
In dollars and tears for a healing.
Pale when compared, with the voluminous prayers,
Our reverence and humility kneeling.
Seeing through to the end, great strength we must take,
And the position that attitude matters.
A stiff upper lip and a smile sometimes fake,
Anything less, and fragile hope easily shatters.
Yet until we’re called home, to streets paved with gold,
Or abodes filled with love and affection,
Widely known in the hearts, of the young and the old,
Laughter remains, life's greatest healing medication!
(This poem is dedicated to my wonderful Sister Cindy, whose strength and positive attitude throughout her struggle, encourage all who cross her path)
User Name: Wedge
Copyright © Michael Wegman | Year Posted 2014
R.I.P. William Dale Eubanks
d. July 1, 2012, aged 68 yrs., Tennessee Ridge, Tennessee
Death came as no surprise
the first Sunday in July;
it claimed you, on a ridge in Tennessee,
with kin who took you in and waited with you
through the last hard days.
You kept what fears you had well hid,
did not betray with loud complaint
the fate you could not but know awaited.
A smile, a joke, a hug – exotic meals –
And genuine interest greeted all you met.
And you were, certainly, never boring
but well-traveled and smart
beyond the telling.
We’ll miss your wit, your bright demeanor,
and will remember all you freely gave ---
and what you took from us
with your passing.
Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore | Year Posted 2012
Life is a mess and needs constant cleaning
Soap Opera glasses and bodies acquire meaning
She said this; He said that
Bureaucracy is getting fat, fat, fat
Life is a mess with no sanitizing
Half empty or half full is agonizing
Media talk; on the job gossip
Interacting with people considered Drama Prophets
Life is a mess and will stay as such
Many humans seem to lack the connective touch
Work harder, longer, faster, be perfect!
For some, this is equal to a creative reject
Life is really messy for the next generation
Faster, better, longer; utter frustration
Stress that will taunt and even hurt them
A messy loss of an antiseptic brain stem
Copyright © Jennifer Young | Year Posted 2014
If love does not live so that love may live,
Wrecked on rugged rock like a pirate ship;
Tiresias speaks to hearts—no love to give,
Darkness and void with no inspired lips;
If love is quashed short of its golden prime,
Like dinosaurs smashed by a meteorite;
Crushed from its age of blossoming on time,
Like breath strangled from life not to unite!
Then O’ love, send me Pegasus to ride,
Spread your wings—lift us to Zeus in the sky;
Touching constellations with them abide,
Creating cherished crescendos for weepy eye:
Lightning life beaming love from golden clouds
Descending passion upon earth erasing shrouds!
Copyright © Joseph Spence Sr | Year Posted 2010
The rainbow of reason ends
With a pot of gold and jabberwocky.
When hippocampus dwells in solitary,
of the expatriated mind.
In planned visits
To familiar spaces,
When elapsed faces are still hailed with fervor,
As though they had never gone.
Deep in thought
In cavernous bowels tangled lost,
Remote repartees recurring restlessly.
and ever leery
of echoing footsteps anxiously nearing, as though someone might overhear.
As even eyes fail to mirror
The twilight of past vigor,
Speaking in feeble voices muddled beneath walls,
Walking politely in ancient, and empty, imaginary halls.
The stars stop still and unfleeting
Listening to last breaths, and the heart’s last beating,
To hearken timid last words from the past's last illusions,
Where celestial alae still go a-flutter with lost aspirations.
When the frail hand that once held and sheltered
Cannot even rattle dandelion clocks,
Or crush delicate imago wings into dust,
Save for Elysian veldts
Where the rainbow of reason ends.
Copyright © Ryan Caidic | Year Posted 2008
The sun rose bright red not a dark cloud in sight
Few whispy cotton clouds spread around blue sky
Redtail Hawk in sky left nest for morning flight
On those cold air currents he did swiftly fly
Door was opened by east north easterly wind
Letting out illness, death, want_then in comes health
The sun set covered in dense clouds_cold its shroud
Will it rise in morn purple horizon proud
Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2011
ONLY HEALTH AND JOY
I believe You Father God is in control.
Tell me more...
I want to know what else You want me to do;
I want to know who else You want me to know,
I want to know what else You want to reveal to me,
Open my eyes, my ears, my heart and my mind
let the wind the blows whisper to me
let the sunshine tell me still there is hope
let the blooming flowers tell me the possibilities
let the tweeting birds be the notes to alarm me
Ah!!! let it be Father God!
Let Your Holy Spirit lead my feet
Unto You Oh! God I laid my plans,
Father God, look at them
I want to know which of them
brings You more glory and honor.
I want to know which of them
heads me to Your path.
I want to know which of them
draws a smile to Your face.
You know and watch over me everyday,
You know my every thought, my every heartbeat
and my every action,
I believe in whatever I do O Father God,
You are already there for me
You send hosts of angels to guard me
You send the grinning sunshine to invite new hope
Before I put all my effort, time, energy and all
I speak to You anytime of the day
for I believe everytime I speak with my heart
You my Father God is listening kindly to me.
From long prayers, written words,
breath prayers, hymns...
Though there are times,
I can't even find the right words to say.
And so what I do is to just close my eyes,
then there silent tears roll on my cheeks
but I know my Spirit will speak for me
I want more of You and less of me
I believe You are carrying me on this troubled path
Never ever You will let me go
Or never ever You will forsake me
I trust You know me more than myself
My past, present and my future
You knew before I ever began to walk
I believe You are holding me in Your palms
You are fully in control of the events
My win is our joint victory
Hard-pressed because of the circumstances
but I believe You will not give me these
not because You see me a probable failure
rather You gave this to me because I can...
Together with You, I can and I will
We will win. We will win.
Despite these pains and tears
I trust someday when I'll be with You
You will smile at me and tell me
I did well on the task You gave me
And I pass, You will welcome me then
Into Your loving arms
where there are no more tears
where there are no more pains
where there are no more sicknesses
where there are no more sufferings
only health and joy...
9:09 pm, May 15, 2015
Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo - Fraser | Year Posted 2015
Yoga in Poem - A novel attempt 01/ Many
YOGA is a priceless gift given by great ancient Indian
saints for every human being through Vedas. I am
trying to bring one step each week before all my
known and unknown friends of Poetry Soup and for
other viewers for a glimpse of this treasure of India,
which in fact is a gift of Good Health
for the entire humanity.
Meditation Step 01
The essence of healthy living
And the most precious
Gift given to humans
By the Almighty God.
We think and think
And puzzle our mind
With ideas and emotions
With worries and
This goes on in our minds
Ever since we find that
We have grown-up
To know and understand
And to behave with
From that very time
We unknowingly start
Worrying also and
Not only during daytime
When we are in sleep.
This never ending
Row of worries and worries only
Sometimes for reasons
And often without a season
Have become a habit
On what we have and
What we do not have.
Lamentation and pondering
Brings and form shape
A Free Gift for all of us
In the form of slow poisoning
Which we inhale and drink
Every day and every moment
When we breathe and talk
When we love or walk
When we behave and misbehave
When we are in a haste and
We lie on a cot
Or when we fight
Without a cause.
This constant thinking and
Slowly destroy everything
Good and great in our heart
Given by the Almighty God.
But meditation and Yoga
What we often unknowingly
Just throw away
By our day and night worrying
When we go to sleep or
Are busy in accomplishing our tasks.
Meditation and Yoga
What we often unknowingly
By our worries
While sleeping and even while
Accomplishing our tasks
With a gift of better and healthy life.
Kanpur India 4rd /6th July 2013 To be continued ……
The series which I am starting today
is also a gift for all American
friends on their Great of Independence 4th July.
My Greetings for all of you.
With best wishes…Ravindra
Benefits of Meditation
can be seen and noted on the following webpage.
Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor | Year Posted 2013
Many years ago, when we were all young,
We really thought life, would be so much fun.
While playing dress-up, trying on mom’s stuff,
Putting on make-up, we found to be tough.
Then came our schooling, and boy things would change,
“Those aren’t our parents”, when they acted strange.
Sometimes they were hip, but old-fashioned too,
That’s something I swore, I would never do.
Wishing you were older, adults had it made,
They would do nothing, yet still would be paid.
That is how little, we all had known,
We surely found out, once we were grown.
Loving the twenties, we’d go out with friends,
When we went shopping, we followed the trends.
Doing what we wanted, and staying out late,
It didn’t matter, what time we all ate.
Then came the thirties, and most of us wed,
Watch what you wish for, my parents had said.
We had to work hard, many bills to pay,
I guess they were right, what more can I say?
Raising your children, was hardest of all,
Needing some advice, your parent’s you’d call.
It seemed so easy, they needed no rest,
So now it’s your turn, you learned from the best.
The forties arrived, that was a shocker,
We’d spend lots of time, just at the doctor.
Back aches and headaches, so tired you’d be,
Trying not to cough, or else you would pee.
The fifties would come, and your grandkids too,
Where were your glasses? You hadn’t a clue.
You searched here and there, and under the bed,
“Hey grandma” they laughed, “They’re right on your head”.
Here come the sixties, now let’s have some fun,
You are retired; your work is all done.
To dinner with friends, you dressed and you wait,
They never show up, you have the wrong date.
Now the seventies, with friends playing games,
If only you could, remember their names.
You try hard to hide, those under-eye bags,
Gravity happens, and everything sags.
Enjoy every day, and have a good laugh,
All the steps you took, led down a new path.
Live life as it comes, each year a new page,
One thing is for sure, everyone will age.
Copyright © Kelly Zakerski | Year Posted 2009
Don’t you remember, love, how we danced that first night;
beneath the sun’s rays, toes dipping in the cooling sand,
to the tune of our favorite song –
with me humming the best I could –
(I sounded terrible, but you told me I sounded divine, remember?)
while falling all over myself, and your delicate feet;
and you, trying so hard not to laugh as I made such a fool of myself!
Did you ever think we would go
from being love-sick teenagers dancing on the beach,
to a couple of old-timers reminiscing
about our best years – our long ago days together?
If there is any part of that teenage girl
left within that beautiful head of yours…please;
please, just look in my eyes as you once did…
look at me, sweetheart…
Don’t you remember?
My love, do you hear?
They’re playing our favorite song…
*Inspired by Izzy Gumbo's Solfege Contest
I really hope I did this right! :)
Copyright © Kristin Reynolds | Year Posted 2009
I was as high as the eyes could see
A giant dark cloud of pure misery
I seemed to roll as one with the wind
A giant black wall that had no end
I stripped the land and left it bare
Of the lives I destroyed, I didn’t care
Those who stayed I covered in dust
As their children died I broke their trust
From my hell many families did flee
Left to wander homeless in misery
I changed the word these words are true
Black Sunday brought darkness on you
I didn't see any direct link but just goggle
pictures of the dust bowl and you will see
what i have written for Brian's Contest.
The Dust Bowl - Alexandre Hogue - 1937
Copyright © Michael Jordan | Year Posted 2009
THE HOSPITAL FAIRYLAND
They walked together, hand in hand,
Into life’s magical fairyland.
Where there was no trouble, where there was no pain.
Where life could really, begin all over again.
Where were no men in little white coats.
Forcing you all, to stuff drugs down your throats.
Forcing you to do, what you didn’t want to.
Telling you it was all for the best, for you,
People shouting, people crying.
Most of the people talking about dying.
What is this hell, we’ve all come to?
It’s called coming off drugs, we all have It to go through.
Where will it end, what will we do?
None of us really, has a clue.
We are given more pills, we are told, we have to take.
To the men in white coats, life’s a piece of cake.
We are the prisoners, they guard the doors.
Some try to creep out, on all fours.
Into hell and back, we go for a ride.
Eventually if we’re lucky, we come out the other side.
Where we can walk, hand in hand.
Into life’s magical Fairyland.
Where there is trouble, where there is pain.
But at least we can start, living again.
Copyright © pat dring | Year Posted 2008
It crouches above the ripe strawberry of her left nipple -
a swelling blot on the flawless skinscape of her breast;
a mortality reminder, a dead bell echoing in her ear,
eclipsing future hope and all she holds dear.
Mornings, in the bathroom, she absently fingers it
and feels the ice-curl of chill around her heart
as subterranean steam February-frosts the mirror with a hazy gleam.
Nightly she lies thigh-to-thigh with him.
He tastes the vanilla butter scent of her skin.
She tastes horror's metallic tang; crushing close to him,
sweaty with anxiety and morbid with imaginings;
slipping through the cradle of his arms, that fault-line crack,
as the earth and her world quietly shatter apart.
And she knows words are helpless to hold back the fear-frosted air.
The horror is strung between them, taut as a tightrope
across which creep all her figures of fear -
the dream demons who whisper constantly in her ear.
And all she wants is normality's reassuring touch -
a benign, safe hand upon her arm.
She tries to hide within the details of daily living
and takes small comfort where she can:
mundane morning rituals, the clatter of diurnal routine;
dishes dunked in foam-bubble water,
telephones ringing, voices asking.
Snowdrifts of hospital appointments pile up on a table.
And she feels isolate and separate as a snowflake;
a temporal frailty melting on the heat-pulse of humanity.
She no longer feels human.
Cells mushroom and proliferate within her body's twisting maze;
sickness spreading through labyrinthine arteries,
darkness shadowing veins' corridors, gathering in nodes.
A hidden malignity glitters in the web of infinity;
her skin shimmers ice-iridescent with radiation.
Cold mornings close in.
She prepares antioxidant-rich fruit in a bowl,
slicing strawberries with surgical precision.
Copyright © Charlotte Jade Puddifoot | Year Posted 2011
Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2011
Alphabet Constructs 3 2 1
Annotated Achilles amends fallen frame amputees
Bulimec Barbies browse media monkey banalaties
Cameo clouds cling to beaded breath curios
Dopamine dreams dilenate check cash desires
Echo endorfins eulogize bullet brain excrement
Fecal folly fantasies reveal relevant frivoloties
Gonadial grownups gulp secret scrotal generosities
Helical hemorriods hinder senior stricken hemocraps
Idiotic ideals idioiosyncrate post partem iconoclasts
Jack Jill juxtapositories seek sexestential jouveniers
Kryptic killer kisses ascot arrogant kingdumbs
Liquid lipid loiners fear frontline lucklullibies
Malovent mommies masterbate rich reflective mommocules
Nevertheless nightengales nourich ruby rich noonbeams
Ovulatory occults outsource torrent tofu outrages
Pensive picses picnics lovelorny passions
Queer quiet quintensials release rancid quotients
Rape ripe residuals nullify nimble reprocussions
Silky seafoam silohouttes fornicate frothy sandlets
Tepid torch trilogies belie beligerent tourniquets
Useless utterences utilize organize orgasmic utopias
Venimous vixens violate cruel.com visions
White willow wombs softly seed hospice hell winds
XY XX xfactors envision extracurricular xraydoms
Yearning yoyo yesterdays calculate clearcovert yeilds
Zen zealous zions mirror maginfy Zoneotones
Copyright © Dave Collins | Year Posted 2013
My hair has receded and my belly grown fat
There’s hair growing in my ears and I don’t like that
My joints ache all the day and I have troubles with peeing
I’m tired all the time and have glasses for seeing
Gravity has taken over putting life in a downward spin
No wonder I enjoy drinking a little wine and gin
Copyright © Mark Goodson | Year Posted 2012
Thunder and lightning ruled the black night
As the frightened young mother struggled
Beads of sweat ran down her pretty face
The old midwife calmly sponged off sweat
She hummed a lullaby to soothe her pain
Praying that the husband would be back soon
Five miles to travel in treacherous weather
Seeking the one doctor for hundreds of miles
Twelve hours of labor now seemed like days.
Fell trees and shaved off roof tops, toppled by whipping winds
Rising rivers were swollen, and flooded make shift roads
Endless rain poured like there would be no end
Meanwhile her unborn child lay bridged as it battled for release
Suddenly the door burst open and the doctor rushed in
His clothes sticking to his skin; there was no time to change
With his palm he felt her forehead asking pertinent questions
He and the old midwife tried manually to turn the exhausted child
At each attempt, mother’s painful cry was heard in the distance
She gave one guttural scream and usherd her baby into the world
The child, born limp, barely breathing as the mid wife took her away
He starred into her eyes, and knew that she was beyond his help
He brought the new born to lie in her mother’s warm arms
The silence was noticeable; the raging storm had passed
The sound of light rain, now a comfort, gently tapped upon tin roof
In a soft, weak voice she called her husband and managed a smile
Then she blessed her child with words from a mother’s heart
“May you be a light, swift as lightning when days grow dark.”
“May you have wisdom and foresight beyond your days”
“May your heart nurture and remain open to love”
“Like rain, may you bring life to all “
“Born this stormy night, your name will be “Rain”.
By : Audrey Carey
Note: Imagination at work:) Written for Constance's "Rain, The Story" Contest.
My imagination took me to some little village in Africa. This scene is played out in
many villages where health care is non-existent. However, there's always, thanks
to God, a wise, caring "midwife" to help mothers during delivery.
Everyday, countless miracles are performed by God through "midwives"!
Copyright © Annalise Brigham...a.k.a. Audrey Haick | Year Posted 2010
Sudden and strangely strong
many shocks flood my body
causing muscles to stiffen
Does it hurt?
My mind drowns itself in
electricity without prior warning
causing a myriad of odd seizures.
Each one different from the
last; no seizure is the same.
My memory is not impaired,
I remember every one and
everything around me,
although speech disappears.
People appear scared, not from me
but from what I have – epilepsy.
Many stigmas float around the
condition, many are as false
as the common school rumour.
Still they are believed like an old
An unwanted burden,
it limits possibilities,
still I have it and so bare
its unwanted scars.
My life impounded and unfulfilled,
epilepsy is a curse without
any hope of a cure,
it’s only made controllable
by a blend of concoctions created
by textbook intellect.
Still my body and soul remain my own
regardless of how hard it tries
to take control,
I remain confident and strong.
Dominant as it may be life must
go on and I must continue to grow
Copyright © Leighann Anderson | Year Posted 2011