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Life Nostalgia Poems | Life Poems About Nostalgia

These Life Nostalgia poems are examples of Life poems about Nostalgia. These are the best examples of Life Nostalgia poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Shape | |

Spring Bud

                                
                                 
                                  
                                 
                                
                                 My 
                               breath
                          shivers under  
                       a rug of loneliness,
                    a sleepy heart huddles
                   against such memories 
                 of togetherness and not of 
               goodbyes, hating to disperse 
               the fiery rhymes of your lips, 
                as well as the warmth of its 
                 sweat...tastes like red wine, 
                   then it beats...and beats
                     gently, as it envisions
                          you, in an early
                                misty
                                   s
                                  p
                                r
                               i
                              n
                            g






Details | Rhyme | |

COME WHAT MAY




The steep waning of duskfall held by one Cuddled by a wheeze , the dim air’s pale light, Nestling upon boughs of memoirs undone As scenes rise mildly with an ached delight. Although fall plunges into my own depth, Giving way to chills of winter ,prolonged So must spring blossom with a fragrant breath For roam I must through peaks of Augusts’ song. And musings dip upon the faltering wings A blazed remembrance of seasons’ refrains; Snuffed by love’s risk, hardened from cold warning Oh time withers, breaks ...still I call your name. Hearts evade pleas, sweet moments gone astray That now I rest on a crib of old stars But such is life allowing what is the way; To gather new treasures...near or afar. Judy Konos' C'est La Vie 11/5/2014


Details | Narrative | |

Will You Tie My Shoes When I Grow Old

You were beautiful, 
my tiny child, 
wrapped tightly in my arms, 
close to my heart.
I listened to you breathing.
I counted your fingers
and your toes.
Helpless, 
you cried out to me
and I loved you
with every ounce of my soul.

Will you hear me
when I cry out? 
Will you hold me close
as I held you then? 

I remember the day
You took your first step.
There was no stopping you.
Your feet gave you freedom
to explore the world
like never before
but danger lurked.
I opened those doors anyway, 
cautiously, 
and introduced
you to the world.
Where will you be
when my legs
no longer run? 
no longer work? 
Will you realize
that I love
freedom too? 

I laugh
about that day
you first tied your shoe.
We tried and tried
to get that rabbit
in that hole
and you finally did it.
You pointed your toes
for everyone to see
how proud you were.

I am proud too, 
of my writing
and my drawing, 
of my needlework
and my cooking.
But my hands are beginning to ache
and my fingers will not bend.
I will lose the things
that make me proud
except for you.
Hopefully not you.
Will you let me
brag on you? 
Even tell wild stories
that are a bit beyond the truth? 
Will you be proud of me too? 

I waved good-bye
that morning when you left
on that large, yellow bus.
I was so scared.
I know you were too.
You waved at me bravely
through the dusty window
but I saw the water
forming in your eyes.
You came home, however, 
full of pride and joy.
You sang the alphabet song
and got most of it right.
You practiced for hours
until you could sing it
even in your sleep.

But 
I'm afraid.
I forgot
whether I took
my pills today or not.
I forgot
if I told this story before.
I even forgot once
who you were
and it terrified me.
My mind
is my treasure
the only thing I have left, 
and I heard you make
fun of me
for not remembering
that I gave you the
same gift as last year.
Will you love me
when I no longer
know who I am? 

You came home blushing
from the glow of
your first kiss.
Your first love, 
the one you thought was real.
You talked about him non-stop.
You changed for him. You gave.
But he left you anyway
for a blue-eyed girl
and I held you
while you cried for him.

I too have a
broken heart.
The love of my life
left me after
fifty-six years.
He left me here
to live life on my own
while he moved on
to another realm
And I cry for him too.
I long for his shoulder
and strong embrace.
I feel betrayed
because he and I
made a deal
that we would never
leave the other alone.
Yet I am alone
sitting in an echoing house
with no hands to hold.

You welcomed her home today- 
your tiny baby girl.
She has your eyes
and possibly your toes.
I see you counting them
as they roll me
into the room.
You finally came
to visit.
It has been a while.

You look up at me
with tears in your eyes
and ask
almost desperately, 

"Will she tie my
shoes
when I get old? "


Details | Free verse | |

Things That Seemed Poetic

Things that seemed poetic were always sad,
though I yearned for sparkle
and my dad's guffaw, which never came.
Familiar things were always drear --
repeated motions in the same old game.
There were only distant glimpses
of budding spring, fleeting views
of daffodils. The strongest
poems dealt me death and dying.
Yet I always hoped, never went under
to gray despair, always dreaming
of a garden of love that we could share.
But those forbidden delights faded
quickly away; the only reality
I understand is the ever-looming
and final one. Nothing's changed.
The strongest poems deal death and dying.


Details | Personification | |

Umbrella

There she stands 
Centre stage for all to see
Tall and slender 
Precariously she balances.

I reach out for her
Draw her to me 
My hand skims her body 
Slowly reaching her skirt.

Playful fingers find hidden areas
Delighted her legs spring forth
Displaying the very beauty
Of her delicately adorned skirt.

Gaily she dances around
Dizzily twisting and turning
In the brightness of day shading
She gently tends to my needs.

Personal ballerina takes to toes leaping
Merrily bobbing up and down
As emotional to her performance
Clouds cry a thousand tears for her.

Reaching our destination
Slightly shaken, she leans
Watches me quietly drips
Against the wall.

Reminiscent of the day's fulfillment
We acknowledge one another silently
Restful knowing we shall be
One once more.


Details | Narrative | |

An Escape

Have some time to spare in-between a work schedule 
burning me from the inside, out.
Wasted too much time on the computer already,
my body aches from physical inactivity.

Thoughts are racing faster than the speed of light,
the routine of modern life is trying to cage in a free spirit-
a pen for a wild horse with boundless energy,
a strong kick and large teeth.

Haven't come down to this part of the bay for years.
Not sure why anymore?
Not too sure about anything right now.
Believed I was too young to be having these thoughts,
but here they come like a booming drum beat,
keeping time with the pounding of my heart,
but always just a little louder,
to remind me how this warning isn't about to depart.

The putrid stench of kelp and dead crabs
baking in the afternoon sun,
curls up my nostrils, awakening memories of childhood....
....the salt in the sea is the salt in my blood;
we have been one since conception.
The salty, deep green rot, smells like bliss to me,
compared with the scents of over-heated wires,
burnt coffee, and industrial-gray carpeting.

Sit down on a large chunk of driftwood.
The waves aren't crashing in their usual rhythmic crescendo,
but lapping quietly like chortling laughter.
The ocean is chuckling,
laughing at my insignificance
in comparison to its almost limitless horizon 
of cruel, cold water.

A familiar pungent aroma creeps my way-
the high citrus scent of bergamot
mixed with the sweet perfume of skunk.
Two young punks are hauling on some reefer
up the beach from where I am sitting.
Can hear their youthful, carefree chatter.
The last time I smoked weed, seems eons ago now.
The smell invokes the rebel still alive inside,
giving a glimpse of who I had once been-
eyes blazing red,
mind full of humble awe
flying high above the clouds like an eagle.

The shrill cries of gulls fighting over a starfish
breaks my stupor of reminiscence,
reminding me of the hungry ways of nature-
the hungry ways of mankind and money.
Damn! My stupid job awaits!

As I make my way back,
pant legs causing the sand grass 
to sigh in dry moans and whispers,
I make up my mind to visit 
this old stomping ground more often.
In fact, I might start coming out here
on all of my lunch breaks.
Out here, the wild horse has ample room to roam,
even if for only a few moments of escape-
an illusion of escape is far better
than having only stifled dreams
and no hope left at all-

feel much better already.


Details | Rhyme | |

Cobalt Summer

Down there, on the shell-coarse beach in a furnace of sand The sea writhed and almost boiled at the shore, Barefoot we walked, with her hand in my hand No girl had ever driven me more. She dry-licked her cherry lips and saltily smiled, Solar flares bursting there in my chest, The way she moved always drove me wild, My eyes entranced by her shape in that dress. The sun stamped in the sky like a chromium plate, Dripped the colours of butter and steel, And she stood there the most, the coolest hot date, So radiant and still and surreal. When she threw back her head as she lay on the grass Liquid eyes burning silver and green, With the parting of lips she gave me a free pass And the world dissolved to aquamarine.


Details | Verse | |

Cotton-Pickin' Paradise

Down south of a dirty delta town
after double-winged dusters sweep low
White hats, bent backs and bloody hands
sway to the rhythm of summer snow fields
Backed by a choir of ten thousand crickets
reaching up to touch heaven with a song


Details | Rhyme | |

Scars Left Behind

Remembering the days of yesteryear
when family ties were held most dear,
gas lamps flickered in the back street
while most of us danced a different beat.
Tragic alleyways of smog and smut
“Live over the brush”* branded a slut,
silhouettes in fringe the darkest night
gullible back shift broke the morning light.
Adventurous nights at “Townhead Mill”
eight pints of beer the back porch thrill,
when no meant yes in rapturous skill
to fumigated music from “Nashville.”
Obnoxious libertine this bread man
bay curtain drawn delivery van,
the situation conspired indiscretion
clinical the world’s oldest profession.
Sporting gentlemen in summer bliss
caught first ball costly night on the piss,
pavilion home to moorside drover
many a chaste maiden bowled over.
Partial pilgrimage down “Bolton Road”
black and amber heroes round ball code,
liniment buoyant throughout the room
manly skills embroider the village groom.
Cardinal days steeped in “Rock ‘n’ Roll”
sire in fear of them out of control,
a colossal wedge between cultures
in shadows of decency vile vultures.
Repetitious days of school yard might
the bullies reduced one’s life to plight,
parents queried yet misunderstood
reasons for mayhem in the neighbourhood.
Lad and lasses lost in “Hide and seek”
games of “Stroke a back” every week,
by the old school grounds we all did laik**
now the street is naked for heaven sake.
Why on earth would a mind keep drifting back
this poetry constantly placing me on track,
when life was a role without fame or stars
only toil and trepidation and these scars?

© Harry J Horsman 2013   

*Living in sin
** Play


Details | Rhyme | |

Revive the Breakage

High upon the highest heights I see the most tremulous sight A small girl, fair and tranquil Smiling strangely, sitting still Beneath a sobbing willow tree She recites a verse upon her knee She sings a rhythmic hymn Not of death, nothing grim But prays that life will return Even for those who are doomed to burn The girl is a woman now Beneath the tree and upon the cloud She whispers, “I am watching you” Why then are you so blue? A single tear of sadness and joy Rejuvenate the quirky earthly boy Who sits down beneath the blooming tree Listening to her silent voice attentively She reminds him she was once young too That she also was a misty shade of blue But when the boy grows into man He has come to ignore the fair woman Who watches him still from above Burning and swelling with disdainful love The ways of the world have sweltered his heart And time has torn his soul apart Thus he has lost all innocence and light Battling his sinful lust—an endless plight! I watch as he feeds on others’ pains and fears Reducing the vigilant woman to tears The prayer of the innocent has been ignored Life has died and hellfire stored Into the hearts of the impotent In blue, fires of haze their heart is sent Toiling in misery and lament Savaged and severed by our regret The heavenly woman grows old and frail And the man still treads the sinful trail As the rotting tree withers into dust Can I revive it? –I must! Low as low can possibly be I watch myself condescendingly A tombstone, gray and hell-bent Frowning knowingly in bewilderment Above the dust that once was a tree She cries out a verse anxiously Faintly she whispers the undying hymn Not of happiness, nothing of whim And prays that life will come to end For those that break instead of bend


Details | Free verse | |

Bedlam baby

I remember you
cartoon smile and egg-shaped head.
Do you remember
how the rainbow formed on the water,
how the neon lights flickered,
or the scent of nectarines on your forehead?
They were happy to see for the first time
behind glass window,
between speaker box voices --
unopened package,
untouched collector’s item,
you shiny new contraption,
star of the play,
hero of the hour, 
flavor of the season.

Seed of your father,
soil of your mother.
Fruit of love,
fruit of conflict.
Decision’s aftermath,
delusion’s consequence,
Are you accident,
                    intention,
                            problem,
                                  solution?

Bough in the river,
wrenched in the current.
Hand reaching for hand,
hand holding your own.
Bedlam baby with the guilty smile
do you remember
how you would not fracture the  mullioned frame,
how you could not shatter porcelain,
or how you hid in changing alleys?

I will save you
you will save me.
My hand in yours.
I am the boat
you are the journey.


Details | Pantoum | |

The Golden Hour

Gorgeous boy, your skin shines in the sun’s golden hour.
Waves of your jet-black hair, short-cropped like Caesar's 
dripping tendrils on a chiseled brow, wisps beside each ear
A bare-chested Apollo cycles in low-slung shorts.

Waves of your jet-black hair, short-cropped like Caesar's, 
my ardeur imagines eyes a molten sapphire blue.
A bare-chested Apollo cycles in low-slung shorts,
calves taunt, thigh muscles pumping, a true stallion.

My ardeur imagines eyes a molten sapphire blue.
surely, the night sky is less beautiful than your eyes,
Legs with calves taunt, thigh muscles pumping, a stallion,
lovely man-child, whose dreams will you soon make true?

Surely, the night sky is less beautiful than your eyes.
Dripping tendrils on a chiseled brow, wisps beside each ear,
lovely man-child, whose dreams will you soon make true?
Gorgeous boy, your skin shines in the sun’s golden hour.


Details | Couplet | |

The Box of Stuff

I heard him close shut the attic door,
I snuck in and saw him on the floor.

He found the box that I stored away,
As I turned to leave I heard him say.

“Mom, could you come here for a few,
Whose badge is this and what does this do?”

Placing the hat on top of his head,
Come close my son I softly said.

With a saddened tone I lowly spoke,
Pushing words over the lump in my throat.

That box of stuff belonged to a man,
Who left one night with his keys in hand.

He heard his pager go off late one night,
He jumped in that suit and dashed out of sight.

To answer a call, not knowing for sure,
The dangers his heart would have to endure.

He’d always been brave right from the start,
And was a good man with a courageous heart.

He wasn’t a man like typical dads,
That was mainly because the job that he had.

That box of stuff is his way to pave,
The bright good man you’ll be someday.

Because in that box that you delved into,
Belonged to a man who looked like you.

If you can understand I’ve never known why,
Before you were born that man had to die.

I cannot imagine what he went through,
To save a stranger he never knew.

He faced a danger he didn’t deserve,
He gave his life to protect and to serve.

He wasn’t respected most of the time,
But still he laid his life down on the line.

With all this that I share this day,
There’s a few final words I’d like to say.

All the stuff that’s within that box,
I want you to know belonged to a cop.

There’s a lot of things he never saw,
He lost his life defending the law.

And one of those things that he didn’t see,
Was watching you become what you came to be.

You’re brave like him in the things you pursue,
I know he’d be proud of the life you ensue.

It’s been along time that my heart has cried,
I still remember the night that he died.

Much has happened since the night he was slain,
I think you should know that you bear his name.

Yes there are times that I still get sad;
But I want you to know that man was your dad.

So put the box up my little snooper,
Now that you know your dad was a trooper.


Details | Rhyme | |

Little Yellow Socks

* Written for my daughter, who really does have a precious pair of Little Yellow Socks.

Little Yellow Socks
       by Amy Swanson  12/5/2008

Little yellow socks
running down the hall
"Slow down with those socks on,"
I'd yell... too late, the fall!

Little yellow socks
padding softly late at night
climbing up into my lap
one more hug, out goes the light.

Little yellow socks
follow me with squeals of laughter;
Oh how she loves to run in them,
Begging me to come chase after!

Little yellow socks...
now not being worn a lot.
My little girl is growing up,
No longer just a tot.

Little yellow socks
will be cast aside someday
I must guard these precious moments;
in my heart, they'll safely stay.


Details | Couplet | |

If You Are The Ocean...

If you are the ocean, then I am the mist
which kisses the morning the way children kissed
their mother at breakfast to start a new day
If you are the ocean, then anchors aweigh
We'll sail through the evening and on to the light
The daystar is dawning, we'll keep to the right
like Peter and Wendy to Neverlands' door
we'll sail on forever and touch every shore
If you are the ocean, come wash me away
to some misty morning and there we will play
on beaches you've loved all your lovely life long
If you are the ocean, then sing me a song
of sailors and treasures and I'll have to say
If you are the ocean, come wash me away...


Details | I do not know? | |

The Ringer

What if age was determined
By the amount of life experiences you had
Would you be an old timer, seasoned
Or a young naïve lad?

Would you change the way you lived
Or would you be satisfied?
Would changes to your life be massive,
Or would you seek a priest to confide?

I wonder why we don't live more
Not knowing when the curtain falls
Instead we tread on egg-shell floors
As if we plan when the bell tolls..


Details | Rhyme | |

Forgotten Times

Momma's in the kitchen frying chicken
Daddy's got the game on the old TV
Two brother's playing and fighting in the parlor
It's just the way things used to be

Momma stayed home and raised us kids
Never had much except love if I recall
Daddy worked everyday but Sunday
Then again, I guess we had it all

We got our clothes from people up the street
Their kids were older and always well dressed
They would send a box down once or twice a year
And we'd thank God, we were so blessed

Shared a bicycle between five brothers
Had all we needed and so much more
Never saw a government check until we enlisted
I guess they forgot to tell us we were poor

Lived in an alley full of kids
Second house in a row of seven
Learned to work for whatever we wanted
This was our little piece of heaven

No one stole from one another
Respected all and what they worked for
Slept like a baby, three to a room
Never bothered locking a door

We have so much now it's mind boggling
In a way I guess we lost our senses
Corrupted with greed, we became reclusive
Instead of bridges, we built fences

Return with me to those forgotten times
When we treated our neighbor just like a brother
Never got judged by the way we dressed
And people cared about one another

Remember Jackie Gleason and the Honeymooners
Lawrence Welk on a Saturday night
Breyer's ice cream from the corner store
Lassie and Dragnet in black and white

Uncle Miltie and Bishop Sheen
Robin Hood starring Richard Greene
Superman and a matinee
With Dinah Shore, see the USA

Riding grassy hills in a cardboard box
Taking little brother for long summer walks
Forgotten times spent with a friend
Times we thought would never end

A life full of riches doing all that we could
A life full of struggles, even the bad times were good
Somewhere in the distance a lone church bell chimes
While I close my eyes and dream of forgotten times.


Details | Free verse | |

OUTGROWN

It is quiet, save for the sound of the wind and the
lullaby thoughts turning like the mobile she’d had,
Something that hovered, as I did.

Piles of her things surround me,
Freshly washed and smelling somewhat like
babypowder, cuddles, first smiles.
Little sleepers, one plucky giraffe, 
Dozy pink bears and ducks and lilac butterflies
tell me bedtime stories, suck thumbs.

I cluck over receiving blankets,
Carefully fold a toothless grin and my hand
lingers, smoothing the soft flannel.

A white sweater I’d rescued from a thrift store,
Hand knit and beribboned, feels content.
The yarn is a kitten, but it has curls
and eyes that I’m told look just like mine.
It asks in such a beguiling way that I 
pick it up, place it tenderly in my lap,
Then snuggle its delicate pattern,
Recalling chills and prudent struggles.

Then I lift a green, velveteen dress,
Mommy caresses a Christmas babble, a milky
mouth on a wet cheek, giggles spilling.

I buckle the jean overalls,
Pluck at one long, silky strand of embroidered
tantrum, threads that held like a toddler's fist,
Refusing to leave its toy until tomorrow, a denim so wilful.

A rubber boot is cool against my palm as though it 
retains that rainy day when she pranced through asphalt ponds.

I am gifting all that has become outgrown,
Knowing that down the road, another, unmet, will also 
hear the window quiver and hesitate. 

Yes, there will be a jacket for the first day of school and bashful 
skirts, far too short, that will hide from me in the back of her closet, 
Sleeveless frocks that will slide through my proud fingers.

There will be torn tees and holes in the knees,
late night Oh-Dear-God-let-her-be-okay pleas and 
perhaps a wedding veil, beaded with things I’ve told her,
And all these treasures will be held and then I’ll need to let go.

Wait

Looking at the bags half filled,  I move, empty their contents,
Wrap my arms around motherhood, smile into babyhood creases
that touch my face until lace releases childish tears.

All this seems too large for one who 
suddenly feels so very small. 


Details | Free verse | |

Its Raining...

                          Its Raining…

God’s Cleansing Tool
Cloud-Concerto… How Cool !
Plop-Plop Plopping into Pothole Pools
On the Grass, Pavements and On My Own-Sweet- Fools…

who, don’t have Sense enough, to get out of the Rain…
… I think I’ll go Join Them… Again

                               Amen


Details | I do not know? | |

Condemnation

One will never understand
the strength of desire and passion
that the slightest touch of his hand
would force me into submission.

Walking in the darkness
hiding behind closed doors
living with the sadness
that this love could last no more.

I yearned to scream out loud
that I loved him with all my heart
but forbidden loves stay underground
I guess we knew that right from the start.

In our own world we would live
together, forever more
me, I had my life to give
but could we beat this mental war.

The day had come to say goodbye
but for me it came too soon
as deep inside I wanted to die
my heart was out of tune.

So here I sit and long for the past
waiting to feel free
but still my life is overcast
so I live within the memory.


Details | Haiku | |

buried secrets

where the seagull dies
stringless origami cries
loneliness of soul

koi fish suffocate
colors fade in Bonsai trees
island in distress

words not understood
shadows grin tricks on rice walls
tsunamis in eyes

geisha of the world
love is lost in illusions
freedom is her dream

men with cold fingers
whither blossom of her spring
harakiri end

in the seagull's grave
origami secrets kept
chicks learn how to fly
 
www.scripca.com


Details | Free verse | |

Senility

The rainbow of reason ends
With a pot of gold and jabberwocky.
When hippocampus dwells in solitary,
       silent,
              eerie,
                    forgotten dormitories
of the expatriated mind.


In planned visits 
To familiar spaces,
When elapsed faces are still hailed with fervor, 
         and hasty,		
                 eager,
                      vivid candor,
As though they had never gone.


Deep in thought
In cavernous bowels tangled lost, 
Remote repartees recurring restlessly. 
          Cautious,
                      wary,
  	                    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,
            beneath walls,
	           beneath walls,
	                     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,
            past apparitions,
                         past veritas
                                   past delusions,
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,
          and caress, 
                  and feel,
                           and touch, 
Save for Elysian veldts
Where the rainbow of reason ends.



Details | Narrative | |

Alone in a Hospital Room - An Alzheimer's Song

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? 

Honey? 
Sweetheart, please…
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! :)


Details | Free verse | |

Do You Ever Think of Me

Do you ever think of me,
though much time has passed and
we have not talked, we have not met?
Do you ever wonder how I am,
what I've done, where I've been?
Do you ever picture in your mind
how the years have changed my face,
lined my brow, slowed my pace?
I often think of you, as you were,
when I'm blue...how we two
would talk the night away then
greet the day with smiles and laughter --
ready to face the roads ahead,
the crooked miles we'd walk alone --
but, after, waiting to relax again,
to smile once more, trusting that
we'd meet some time and talk till day,
with nothing changed that counts at all...
still all smiles, all hugs, all laughter.


Details | Free verse | |

New York City's Greenwich Village

                                          Greenwich Village breathes,
                                       She inhales exhausted tepid air,
                                And exhales blustery winds of possibility.
                              The lady blows away the veils of dishonesty.

                                       Tangled streets strung together,
                                   Knotted masses of pearls and poetry,                  
                               Entwining marbled heroes,rounded arches, 
                                  Crucifixes,and snakes penned on skin.

                                  Artists, tourists, vagrants,and scholars,
                                   Know the calling of its siren song well.
                                   People living on the fringe of humanity,
                                    And those from the upper crust, fuse.

                                     The village is the one spot on earth
                                Where you can expose your primal desires,
                                     And explore their depths unfettered.
                                 She is a lovely harlot who lives to please .

                                   Musicians and thinkers engage in chess,
                             Neighbors line the benches of it's central park.
                                  Children run naked through its fountains.
                                  The poor and idol rich roam, anonymously.

                                    A reader of fortunes lays out his cards,
                                 Lovers tango,who knows which one leads?
                                 Perhaps all the seekers will find their way,
                                   And the leaders will learn how to see?

                           Lady Greenwich Village,the canvas of New York life,
                              Her face painted with brilliant spattered oils.
                                Each of us can add our own divine colors, 
                            Dripping and blending with individual uniqueness.



Details | Couplet | |

Dutch Hill Park

I took a walk down Columbia Street
Back to the place where we used to meet
Where we played as kids until after dark
And hung out together up at Dutch Hill Park
Although alone, I could hear the sound
Of laughter coming from the merry go round
Sometimes we'd meet there in the early dawn
The dance hall, pavilion and the swings are gone
I saw those pine trees and I thought of you
And all the crazy things we used to do
Like sleeping out underneath the stars
Hanging upside down from the monkey bars
A swing made from  a rope and an old tire
We baked potatoes on an open fire
Squirrel nut zippers and an RC coke
Transistor radio and we'd have a smoke
We walked in the woods and we climbed some trees
We scratched our faces and we skinned our knees
Never dreaming that it would ever end
If I could, I'd do it all again my friend
Those memories I have will never part
I carry Dutch Hill Park inside my heart
And all those memories of yesteryear
Heading back home now I shed a tear.


Details | I do not know? | |

Some Old Style Verse for a New Frame of Mind

The Middle Time is now upon me,
And the tune to which I dance is somewhat thin;
A ghost remembrance of that cacaphonous din
To which my steps were measured in my youth.
I know there lies now less before 
Than all those days that lay within
The sepulchure of careless memory passed,
And I apprehend the sometime bitter truth
That evil days approach my door
When much of what I've come to love will bid its leave
And I be forced to gaze aghast
At sights my eyes would fain not see,
When I to faithful hope must cleave.

And yet, what better time than this, the high point of the feast?
That Jester, Youth, has left the table
Leaving us the better able
To speak of things which more befit the greyed brow,
Matters weighty and sublime
Which better suit our natures now, though perhaps in tone more sable
Than such issues as delight the Fool,
And content the simpleminded sow -
Let us worthily pass the time
To Banquet's End, in company merry and refined,
Reviewing all we gained in Life's long school -
Establish what we value most and least,
Then say we fed our souls while yet we dined.

O grieve not that thy step be not so quick nor light
As was it's wont to be in bygone days,
Nor pine for carefree, childish ways -
They had their time, and sweet they were,
But now thou hast a surer, measured step
And the nobler thought is the one which stays,
And Youth for all its joyful folly
Is not a state forever to prefer
To a mind and manner better kept
From fancies and seductions strange;
Who but a Fool would be forever jolly
And deny his Midlife's further sight,
It's deeper view, it's wider range?


Details | Narrative | |

The Captain and I

With the palms of well-worn leathery hands that in younger days guided a Tall Ship round 
the globe many times with the help of stars that still twinkled in his eyes, the old man made 
a porthole in the frosty forest of swirling ferns that had been painted on the kitchen window 
pane by Jack-Frost during the night.

As I sat on his lap, he told me the creaking sound made by the rockers from the rocking 
chair we sat in on the hardwood floor - if he closed his eyes, could make him believe he was 
back with the wind in his sails, rising and dipping and swaying with the whims of the 
waves ‘ore the sea.

Back- and- forth, back-and-forth, we rocked as the porthole on the window pane grew larger, 
exposing the winter wonder land outside where trees and roads and roof-tops lie frozen 
beneath a layer of fluffy snow that looked like icing on a birthday cake, as the house 
softened and swelled in the warmth of the burning kindling wood that snapped and crackled 
in the stove. 

Rocking  back-and-forth, back-and-forth, I asked him, looking into those eyes of green, with 
that far away look. “Grandpa, won’t you tell me please, what lies beyond the sea?”  He 
paused for a moment, blowing silver halos that rose from his pipe in an aroma of sweet 
smelling ‘Old Sail’ tobacco, and with the magic of his words, he took me on a journey, 
rocking across the sea where he showed me all the places and wondrous things he’d ever 
seen.

That was many and many a year ago, in a kingdom by the sea, where an old man, taught a 
little girl, that life is but a dream.

                                                                ~~~~~

                          In memory of: Captain James George the Third - My Grandfather

                                                                   ~~~~~
 2nd place in  'Anything Goes #2 Contest - sponsered by Constance La France 

                                                
Author's note:  

This is one entry of many that will appear in my next book ' A Journey of Roses and Thorns'. 
They are true events that have happened in my life - some where roses, some were 
thorns.  I have learned valuable lessons from both.


Details | Free verse | |

Emotional Turbulence

The voices grow louder, Intensifying with emotion, anger lining every aggressive word. My insides squeeze tighter as the vitriol poisons my mind, How does such hostility exist? As the sound of hatred deepens, The feelings strengthen their grip, like a vice, So tight, I can no longer breathe All the negative emotions I have ever felt, fill me, Threatening to overflow. So long have they been banished… Enough. No more! My mouth opens, An earsplitting scream of pain and suffering shatters the silence, Sobs of sorrow and grief wrack my body, Murderous shrieks of anger and hate, Wretched cries of self-pity and self-loathing, Poison the air. Now, free of these emotions. But the monster still exists Within the dark depths of my mind.


Details | Free verse | |

whispers in silence

What keeps me awake
When the cool breeze bears whispers of things to come
Promises to be fulfilled on the morrow?

Is it my joyless moment of cognizance
knowing that this stagnant night ripples from no real breeze
Only imagined promises birthed on the whims of a longing heart?

Yet, what keeps me awake
is not these dreams of flattering winds
but it is this night of lifeless branches and unrifled leaves
the lack of real whispering winds taunting my heart
What truly keeps me awake
Is the silence of tomorrow.


Details | Free verse | |

Memories etched in the sand

Sifting warm sand 
through my fingers,
shimmering fine grains 
glitter my palm.
Sand,
filled with life’s memories
of nut brown days
of summer.

A soft silk breeze 
formed dunes
with our dreams 
that summer
when we danced to the stars.
My heart laced yours
listening to the sea
undulating waves of emotion
as we kissed 
on the velvet strand.

I still hear
the rhythm of the ocean.
Waves tumbling in unison,
a sweeping sound 
gently caressing
as we lay silently 
listening to sand
shifting over stone
to the faint chiming
of seashells.

My first love
a sea salted embrace
on a breast of sand.
The memories
forever held
in the sand
in glitter on my hand.


Details | Rhyme | |

Bitter

Struggling to be part
Of your affectionate heart
But nothing to expect.

Searching my share of
Fragments with your mind stuff
Still longing for whiff.

Oh this life always
Mingling with equal heartaches
Destined to be parted ways.

Whether this thing exists
I still be longing with tears
My existence persist with tests.

Rushing biddable thoughts
All the years with struggles
Misdeeds cause bitterness.


Details | Rhyme | |

Wasted Time?

Another year passes, those days are all gone
I think of time wasted, and know there was none

For those moments I sat, idle and still
Preserved me from feeling over the hill
They gave me the strength to get on my way
And do things I should have done yesterday

All the times that I stood, and quietly listened
To friends of mine, who’ve thought, "it’s the end"
Is time I’ll get back, with interest you see
When they stop and listen, to what troubles me

Each peaceful moment, with nothing to do
I'll spend admiring the glorious view
Back down the year, the milestones laid
The things I've achieved and memories made

The time is not lost, it's carefully measured
Stored in my mind, and forever treasured


Details | ABC | |

New Year

Years past unfold
Seems just yesterdays 
Tomorrow will be New Year
Streams of thoughts never change.


Details | Quatrain | |

The Owl and the PusyCat Sail

Together the Owl and the PusyCat were married
Then again sailed out over the deep blue seas
Searching forever for the great Land of Nod,
To the place where they could find true peace.
True peace, true peace… Where they could find true peace.

The love that twined forever within their hearts
They sought throughout all the wonderous lands
Going to the place where they would live in peace,
A place where true peace, rules and lives in the hearts of the land.
The land, the land… Where true peace lives in the heart of the land.

Alas, the love of the heart, though truly not easy to find…
Is easier to find than the love of peace, found throughout the land.
So it’s said they will continue to sail, until that day comes true,
And when they land for the final time, will be up to me and you.
Me and you, me and you… That day will be up to me and you.



Details | Ballad | |

Silent House

The house stands mute, broken by years...
Windows stare through jagged glass.
Empty as the eyes of death.
Silent void...echoing joy..patient tears,
reach out in memory each time I pass
the gaping door which has no breath.
 
A rusted lamp-post leans toward Earth...
listening for approaching sound,
to light the darkness once more.
Quiet hush...resounding mirth,
touch my step upon the ground,
and beckon me in, to the shattered house.
 
Crushed boards once held dancing feet...
laughter clings to crumbled stones,
and tears strain the silent rooms.
Scattered remnants of life replete,
lie still as whitened desert bones,
and words spoken...here entombed.
 
I gaze upon torn and tattered walls...
Time pauses, and whispers soft to me
of life blossomed rich in moments gone.
Of a woman whose memory recalls
the beauty of love...and eternity...
mirrored in a rose upon the lawn.
 
House so sad, your youth abounds,
neath fallen grace, and buried sounds.
I hear your song in distant night,
and stand before your silent sight.
 


Details | Light Poetry | |

Birth and Death

The sun and moon conceived a star shooting through time and space born within the ocean delivered upon its waves while Beethoven's sonatas softly played nightly gales whispered those tunes to all the seashells beach sand passed through coral reefs as soles of lovers feet tread buried in beach fires deep begging the earth most humbly to draw a breath but over the cliff the hurricane's wind blew until death from those turbulent ocean waters came a sailor's truth watching a passing ship with broken sails and ghostly crew waiting as death cast it's ending shadow old, yet new sending those born in ocean waves back to the waters blue in birth and death none shall overcome casting us away to where everything was once created in it's hidden depths and there began an understanding between birth and death, a truce
Inspired by: John F. Kennedy." We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea, whether it is to sail or to watch - we are going back from whence we came." 9112007


Details | Concrete | |

The Barn

.    It mars the sage, erect and proud
     Beneath a hood of purple clouds...                                
     Old weathered barn shares windswept grounds               
     With shadows deep and somber sounds            
                                                                                             
     These old remains of dust and brown                                
     From long ago, will stand alone                                           ###  
     Strong arms would hoist, and fit the beams,                          #######
     With rough sawn timbers, small window panes                    #######
     A living thing, of weathered wood                           ####
     It leans with age in prairie wind                                /    /
     Softly gray in the late-day sun                                               / /
                                                                                       /    /
     A monument of nail and boards                     
     Once sheltered pride,  the sheep, the hordes                      /  /
     While men would plow and turn the fields                  
     To scatter  seeds      ^   in parchment plains                /
                                 N-l-S
                                    l
Prayed for  ////////////////////////////// rain                              
To quench /////////////////////////////      the grain
A storage  //////////////////////////// __   for the wheat and corn
A cover, too                                   lxxl     when lambs were born                           
A precious                                   """"""      crop kept safe and dry
But soon               _________                the seasons passed it by
A  place                  l  X l X   l                 for those who worked the soil
The  soul,                l  X l  X  l                 the barn, the shrine of toil
The heart_________l..X.l..X..l________  this pride of home and farm             
       Where now only wind whistles through the eaves, 
       And bats and mice find a place to live
       Abandoned and forsaken, a new age awakened
       While gaunt hills stand silently by
       Day after day under the prairie sky
       This monument that is left alone to die...


_______________________________________________________________________


Details | Free verse | |

Tumbleweeds


Memories tumble through my mind, some, missing for a while.
I try to fill in the blanks. Others, I sweep into the corners.
You know, the ones that are easier forgotten.
Tumbleweeds...my memories have become tumbleweeds.
I take snapshots of the cherished ones, giving them a home
before they blow away in the savage wind.
"Did I tell you my mom liked to dance?"
"Yes", I remember.
I hear the music, her long hair bouncing with each step.
She doesn't dance anymore.
Moments gone...memories fleeting.
"Did I tell you my dad played drums?"
"Yes", I remember. 
I hear rat-a-tat-tat in my head.
I used to sing at the top of my lungs while he played.
He never seemed to mind my shrill, little girl voice.
I miss him, I miss his drums. Music is not the same.
I close my eyes and another memory blows through spaces.
My brother is racing his bike down the street FAST.
He is about ten, all legs in his shorts.
"Where are you going?" I call after him, too late.
He is gone and I wonder if he was ever here.
Some do go astray I remind myself.
Missing memories...missing love.
"Wait, come back", I yell. I'm still here.
Ruminating, I ask myself if we ever know the ones we love.
No, not really. I remember.
Frantic, I reach for the tumbleweeds.
I reach for my two earthly fathers who are long gone...
I see them. Then, they blow away, missing again.
I chase them futilely. The savage wind still blows.
Across grains of desert sand, I will never know why.
Tumbleweeds...my memories have become tumbleweeds.

By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders
March 2, 2012
Second Place in Chris Aechtner's Let the Masks Fall Contest




Details | Burlesque | |

THE CLEVERNESS OF THAT YOUNG TRAVELER

Once his brown alpargata shoes trod countless miles,
imagination burst from his vivid, traveler's eyes...
He traversed valleys leading to azure mountains,
and heard a chant sung with vivacious tones.


Like the invaders of the past that built sturdy castles
on rugged hills, he intruded in those ghostly places...
expecting swift lancers with fierce glances ready to attack him,
or take him prisoner and toss him in a dungeon completely dim.


But with his slick tongue, he would kindly ask for a fair trail
and be scolded by the drunken King with the fattest tummy
to explain with a few words his intrusion in that well-guarded territory;
and looking so young and innocent, his plan for deception wouldn't fail!


" Oh, mighty Frederick II...I come in peace and as a conquered native,
I would bow in admiration to be of service to your kingdom,
which extends from Naples to Sicily, your mercy is imperative...
may your soldiers unlock these heavy chains that make me lame!"  



The Norman King with the bluest eyes ordered the knights 
to free him and waited for words to flow from his mouth with dry lips, " My great
 King, I have grown grapes that are so juicy to eat with bread and they make
the most delicious wine to bring merriment to your festive nights!"


" Where's this region you mention with such wonder and delirium?"
With red-inflamed pupils, King Frederick II asked him. And he traveler's deep voice
vibrated with loud excitement , " Into the valley of Baianum!"
" Let me out of this castle and I will show the purple grapes of a farmer's choice!"


" Let him loose!" ordered the tall, fair king. " Give him the fastest  horse,
and let him bring me proof of his finding!" The soldiers obeyed with reluctance,
but little trust they showed in him: they assumed he was another well-paid jester,
who performed his comedy well...they knew the cleverness of that young traveler! 


Details | Free verse | |

Shattered

Looking out a rainy window,
Seeing places that seem strange,
Makes you think of old and new, 
Shattered dreams, a glimpse of change,
All away and all distorted,
In the once so hopeful heart,
All beneath what you have planned,
If a plan is what you've got.
Many try to comprehend,
Why trouble just comes their way;
Sadly they find in the end
That they couldn't have a say
And they're wrong for thinking so
But when sadness flies to you,
There isn't much you can do... 

Is there?

Maybe lie to you and others,
That we are a happy kind,
Just that sometimes we are clouded
By the way our lives entwine.


Details | Free verse | |

Pseudonym

Life, as a pseudonym,
Drags its shadow's shadow, which snarls
Itself around traffic cones and
Streetlamps, tearing at its skin
With deliberate intimacy
To alarm light witnessed
Only through strained peripheral vision.

A lace-stitched veil
Slips through sidewalk cracks,
Unisolated windows,
Cataract smooth eyes.

The flesh of the matter invades
Such as the Red Death
In living color--Vibrant
Cadavers speak the language of Love:
Mortality;

It slides over possessive nouns, sticky
As salivation,
Push and rattle and harbor themselves against
Warm, wet cavities eroded
In the backside of actualities 
Sweet Tooth.
Authentic miasma, honest illness.

Any footprints discarded in covers of dust
In which Fear has been recognized
Yield into thoughts by persuasion 
Of waves.


Details | Light Poetry | |

' Patricia Adams - An Alaskan Light ... '

She, Of The Cosmic Essence
Aware Of A Power
Aware Of A Presence
And Aware Of The Need For Our
Desire To Rise Higher
… and Higher
To Our Optimum Height
Patricia … You Are Like The Alaskan Lights
Those Northern Flares and Colors In Cold Night 
Floating Dreams, So Mesmerizing
Patricia, Brings It To Her Poetic Themes
Such Are The Verses She Shares To View
And Reading Them, She's Showing You
Her Cosmic Essence Insight
Oh Patricia, You’re An Alaskan Light …
So, Keep Reaching, Keep Speaking … and Write !


For The Girl, Who Shared A Comfy, Snug Book Read
On One Of Her Snowy Days … (Via Her Poem- ‘Autumn’s Passing’ 
Also - Your Poem ‘Journey’ is One)
See … It Brought Back Some Wonderful Memories To Me …

                   Your Poet-Friend,
         
                           The  MoonBee


Details | Free verse | |

Stretch Marks

A foot of water
Barely blurs them
The pinkish bruises
Spanned like hands
Across my hips

I press my fingers to them
Try to align them with the crooked broken lines
That tear across my body

They are violet roads
On a map that is me
Starting pale at the backs of my knees
Stretch to meet the butterflies
That touch and leave
And touch and leave
The tall tall grass

And they gently circle my breasts
Where I fold the grass
Beneath my back
Find eyes that aren't mine
And kiss
Kiss 
Kiss

And they wrap tight around my thighs
Leaving dark deep grooves
Somewhere dead
And new
Where his face is suddenly old to me

And I wash it from my skin
Wash it away
Away
Away


Details | Rhyme | |

BACK TO ORIGIN

People are commonly different
Symbol of diversity piece
Pure race doesn’t exists

Color and creed are just an identity
Believe only in human history
God sculptured them from clay

People are equally created
Having many opposites
But respecting others taste

When everyone is treated equal
Nothing appears but peace in hand
Discrimination, disunity and, suffering won’t be born anymore

Written to advocate to suppress racism
Bandar Sandakan, Sabah, Malaysia
10:30-11:00 am, November 13. 07, Tuesday


Details | Blank verse | |

My Father's Face

From somewhere far beneath,
My father's face is rising to replace my own.
Each year the brightly silvered surface of my mirror
Reveals some other common feature
Pushing its way to the fore.

The silver of the years finds its way
Into the hair retreating at the same rate;
Years marching forward as the hairline marches back
In lockstep time. What's left shines
With the wintry distinction of age.

Whose eyes are these that now look out
From beneath my brow? Are these the eyes that watched my child in sleep,
Or now those elder eyes that watched over me so long ago?
And what self is that at rest behind my silvered temples,
That rests its thoughts so heavy on these things?

Photos of the two of us together
Show the kinship of expression
The matching etchings of experience
That leave no doubt
As to the common blood by which we're bound.

I can no longer view myself
Without his prescence being there as well;
Moreover, the image of his father
Shows the like upwellings in him.

The visage of the man who came before
The three of us I've never seen;
But I deem it probable there was little difference,
And so back this face we share may go, ad infinitum.

Every face is a story
Of the life and its ways that shaped it.
This being so, I cannot help but feel ennobled
By the lines and lessons which have been passed to me.
This is the face I shall carry
From now to the end of my days.

My I tend it, and wear it, well.


Details | I do not know? | |

FRIENDLY GHOSTS

I was visited by ghosts again, last night, 
But they were not the ghoulish kind.
These ghosts were friendly phantoms,
From the sunshine meadows of my mind.

First, came the Ghost of Childhood
From his home, so far away.
He took me back to green fields, 
Where I used to run and play.  
Some dark memories live there,
They are always near, you see.
But Ghost of Childhood was so bright,
That they were forced to flee.

Then, there came the Ghost of Youth,
From somewhere up above.
He took me back to summer nights
Of soft ice cream, and puppy love.
But here, were painful memories
Of a tender, autumn day,
But when they saw the Ghost of Youth,
They quietly slipped away. 

At last, I met the Ghost of Years,
And he seemed old and wise;
I saw the love of long lost friends
Glowing warmly in his eyes.
Sweet memories of departed souls
Prepared my heart to weep,
But Ghost of Years smiled down on me,
And lulled me back to sleep.

My guardian ghosts surround me,
And shield me with their might,
When bitter memories come around
To haunt me in the night.


Details | Verse | |

Psychedelic

In transit through the time-zones, trails her colours everywhere,
Her spectrographic spectrums lance ethereal through the air,
Fragmenting rainbow spears and curves of bending light,
Arcing jet-streams counterpoint with sunspots blinding bright.
And in the dreams I have of her beneath blown skies of tangerine,
Angelic, incandescent, paints the sweetest forms I’ve ever seen. 

Elated on the desert winds she flickers some prismatic ghost,
Tripping ruined beauty from each pillar to each mystic post,
Deep emerald light refracted as cracked ice in shining eyes,
A telepathic temptress breathing winter sleep and summer sighs.
And in the morning sun that kisses glacial seas of bathtub blue,
She walks the dunes of memory, on golden beaches combing through.


Details | Epitaph | |

Floating.....

Wish I could have taken better 
Care of my body... 
Wish they could have stopped 
the cancer sooner... 

I'm just a spirit now, 
Floating over my own funeral. 

If I had my way, I'd pick another church. 
At least one that spelled my name right 
On the obituary. 

I wonder if they knew, 
That I truly loved Sonya, 
but married Adele out of convenience. 

Wish I could have told my brother, Kenny 
I forgive him, maybe he wouldnt cry so hard. 
Wish I could tell Aunt May that hat is too big. 
I wonder if Tara knows the deacons 
Are looking up her dress. 

Im just a spirit now, 
Floating over my own funeral. 

I wonder if the choir knows 
How much I really hate that song... 
Hope they know the Pastor's lying. 
I was not that good of a man.. 

That suit is not the one I would have picked. 
My body looks so much smaller, 
and that make-up makes me look too light. 

Im just a spirit now, 
Floating over my own funeral. 
Free from pain, free from it all. 

Wonder if they know, 
In spite of my short time on this earth...
i truly enjoyed it.
I truly loved it all.


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Better (by kimmy holmes my daughter)

i
am so special
i
won't suck you dry
i 
need to be someone
I
have such anger
i
am a stranger
to myself, myself

I promise to me
to let myself be free
I WILL do better

I WILL forget
the things said
be better, no regret

I will be better 
than you
I already am
Damn...


Details | Rhyme | |

My shoes

The shoes on my feet are old, worn and tattered 
I’ve walked  hundreds of  miles in them 
They have been through a lot and are beaten and battered 
But they are my shoes.

Sometimes they hurt my feet 
And when I step in puddles, 
its not a very nice treat..
But they are my shoes

The soles have started to come loose at the seams
and when I walk I can feel it flap as it  hits the ground 
Maybe a new pair of shoes is what that might deem.
But they are my shoes.

They haven’t been clean since I don’t know when
I could wash them I am sure, 
but some how it would take something away from them.
But they are my shoes 

When I put them on and walk out the door 
they never question where I might go 
they just silently accept it and so much more.
They are my shoes.

They have kept my travels a secret 
took many, many beatings 
and haven’t betrayed me yet 
They are my shoes 

I see people look at my feet all the time
I am sure they wonder why I haven’t tossed them yet 
But to me they are comfortable and fine.
They are my shoes

Don’t judge me because of my worn and tattered shoes 
you haven’t walked where I have walked
or been where they have taken me, trust me I’ve paid my dues 
These are my shoes.

And I will throw them out 
when and how I choose 





Details | Prose Poetry | |

a fair day

It was a fair day for silence.

The sun had risen up courtly, almost mechanically,
Like a marionette on the strings of a puppeteer.
With the sun came Heat, wrathful to have been woken at such an hour.
As if avenging its early rise, 
Heat caused oppression, 
Discomfort and confusion 
Upon the innocent day.

It was a fair day for exclusion.

Only one was oblivious to the relentless heat,
He sat there motionless, lifeless and corpse-like.
They would glance at him nonchalantly.
He was just a piece of the scenery, 
Always had been there, 
Always would be there, 
Invisible.

It was a fair day for neglect.

Some say once he had been aware,
But life had hollowed him out, 
Left him a shell, 
Unmoving, 
Unblinking.
The day progressed, the light dimmed, 
It was as if fate and destiny had led him to this moment.
If anyone had cared to look, they may have noticed a glint in his eye.
He liked the sunset.

It was a fair day for an end.

The sun slowly made its way back home.
Heat gradually left, bored with the sun’s absence.
Silence was once more.
The sun closed its eyes. 
The moon began its regime over the obeying night sky.

It was a fair day for sweet nothing.

He still sat there, 
But no one knew.
So was he still alive, 
If no one saw him die?


Details | Free verse | |

Little Long-Legs

Little Long-Legs
         by Amy Swanson

Running to me

           with big hugs
                     
                    and even bigger brown eyes


smile full of mischief

arms thrown around my neck

           --- almost choking me!--- 
                        *smile*

"I love you Mommy!"

                         my little "Long-Legs"

how fast you have grown.

Almost as tall 
           
                as your short mama

*but then that wouldn't take much*
                  --wink!--


I smile

     remembering a time

                when my little Long-Legs

                               ... my long-legged girl...

had little bitty
                     short legs
                                    just learning how to toddle around the house
                                                           (falling over!)

crawling faster than I could walk

            running to keep up with her...!...

                           purple baby food plums smeared across a happy smiling mouth

full of giggles

and smiles

with no idea how cruel this world can be;

pure innocence.

Pure contentment.

                       Oh how time flies.

She's nine next week

   birthday princess

toddler toys long gone;

she wants a bike

         so she can ride like the wind --

                       already the taste of freedom in her mouth

                                           already the feel of freedom in her spirit

another step...
       away from me.

        But she knows

          I will always

*and, somehow, forever*

  watch over my little girl
    
        even when she is no longer little.


She smiles at me

                  teeth slightly crooked

                                     hair brushed all by herself

and asks "Do you like my style?"

          already planning her fashion agenda

like every "big girl" does.


My almost-nine year old girl
 
  born on lucky clover day

       March 17th, 2000

the day she changed my life
             *my world*         
 
                      so grown up, so soon...

                                 and I know more is on the way.

What I don't know

         is how this mother's heart will fare

when one day she leaves.


You make my life complete

          sunshine girl

  full of tickles and giggles


I love you so, 
                     my little Long-Legs.


Details | Blank verse | |

Summer '86

Banana tin yellow
a little dented in on the side
but still perfect for pedaling

Standing against the wind
eight figs in a basket
sticky white at the ends, been picked

Hair in salt strings
and jeans with two holes
with enough wear left for the summer

Two best friends
flying down Heartbreak Hill
at cactus speed, big eyes, no hands...


Details | Bio | |

I Close My Eyes

I close my eyes
And back home I am
Looking out those
Century old windows
My inner tears
Would burst a dam

I remember every crack 
In those walls,
Every floor board
Prone to creak
But the happiness
I had there,
Is something I can
now but seek...

Home of fifty years
Saw my tears and my joy
From infancy to adulthood
And the blessed life I'd had there
Since I was but a boy

A place where several
Family members had died
In the old fashioned way
And all those tears I cried...

Not in some remote hospital,
But where they wanted to be
And I'd suely love to die there,
If it was up to me..

But, it was my destiny
To come here, 
In this desolate place
Certainly I'm not that happy
But it's something I must face

I made a mistake,
I should have died there
Where I had lived so happily
And now, I barely care,
What becomes of me
My life is over
Save but a bit of love,
Still directed at me
And each day I wonder,
What do these people see in me?


Details | Rhyme | |

Granddads Book

In my quiet times I often try,
To remember places I've been.
To recall folk I have passed by,
And sights that I have seen.

There is nothing wrong with my mind,
Sometimes my memory is quite refined.
I think it's filled over many a year,
With so much junk, nothing seems clear.

So, I made up my mind to write it all down,
To recall it all caused me to frown
It started like I was in the dark,
A memory flared, I was in the park.

That day in the park was just the lever,
I found my mind was as good as ever.
Tho' times and places got out of line,
I wrote it all down, now wasn't I clever!

I'm nearly at the end of my story,
A journey I'm glad that I took.
For my grandsons to read in years to come,
I'll call it Granddads Book.

© Dave Timperley 2012.


Details | Sonnet | |

The Devil Deceived Me

A dreadful memory upon life’s sea
Returns to the days when life was carefree.
A spiritual youth faced the world alone.
Distracted by life and its sinful groan.

I thought that my Savior was by my side.
Whispers from Satan deceived my abide.
There is no God; it is a ruler’s toy.
To make men subservient was the ploy.

Scientists discovered we came from apes.
Questioning God, I ate bananas, grapes.
The devil deceived me with many lies.
Despite my souls whisper and needed cries.

I turned away from God for a short time.
When wisdom returned, life became sublime.

© Dane Smith-Johnsen
October 26, 2010


Details | Rhyme | |

Dirt Roads

Dirt Roads

Hello ole friend, I’ve visited you before.
What can you tell me, what news is in store?
You read like a book, imprinted and deep.
I know there are secrets, you like to keep.

Let’s see what’s gone by, and traveled your way.
Unusual footprints or tracks I might say!
Looks like ole Fred’s been here with his truck,
And after the rain, looks like he got stuck.

Small stroller wheels and a couple small feet
Pulling a wagon, that kid is so sweet.
I see some new rocks jumped up from down under
And oops there’s that pothole, new rattles asunder.

You carry the brunt of Nature’s worst weather.
I see where the flood washed out Sara’s heather.
Now here aways, fences embrace
Where wildflowers blooming, no curb to efface.

And now through the hollow, the trees all adorn
Like trumpets announcing this majestic morn.
The deer and her fawn, new prints in the snow
Your cold shoulder is icy, in minus below.

And yet dear old friend, my thoughts turn to you.
You haven’t changed much, you’re one of a few.
No concrete, no asphalt, no white lines or yellow.
No signs and no limits, you’re a polite kind of fellow.

The stories you’ve seen as each day may pass
The history made, the silence of past
Are imprinted here, upon your great crest
More than my years, you’ve stood the test.

Horses and wheels, motors and tires,
Footprints and hopscotch, puddles and miers.
You’ve seen it all from beginning of time
And still your pure beauty so easy I find.

And now I arrived the place I call home
You’ve guarded me safely when I’m all alone.
I wonder how often anyone cares
How great has your day been, traveling there?


Details | Free verse | |

Happy

When I’m all alone
I try to kill the thought of you
Assuring myself
You’re just a ghost passing through

And now that you’re here with me
I feel the need to soar and fly
Only thing is:
I’d much rather crawl away and die

I don’t want to be happy 
I don’t want to fool myself
I don’t want to feel the pressure
Of putting on a heaven in hell

I don’t want to be your angel
I don’t want to face the growth
I don’t want to be happy
I don’t want the aching truth

You never saw me in your stride
As I smiled wide in my heavenly hide
Believing in myself without a chance
Not able to grasp this ghostly romance

You smoked me like a cigarette
Burning out my love, leaving butts of regret
And all the time I laugh and smile
As you see right through me all the while

I don’t want to be happy
I don’t want to live a lie
I don’t want to feel your leisure
As I crumple down to die

I don’t want to disappoint you
I don’t want to show and tell
I just want to see you happy
Just leave me in the dark to dwell


Details | I do not know? | |

Do You Know God

Do You Know God?

Do you know God?
Or do you know about him.

Do you know he perform many miracles?
Or you know first hand he still does, and
His power is real in your life.

Do you know he heal many?
Or have you experience his hand at work
In your own life.

Do you know he feed 5,000
Or you know he cares and
have supply all your needs.

Do you know God because somebody told you about him,
Or do you know him, because you seek him 
By praying in petitions and supplications.
You read and study the bible, living and walking in his foot steps,
and believing all his words to be truth.

Do you know that Jesus cried,
Or do you know he cries for you…

Do you know that he loved many,
Or do you know he loves you so
He loves you so….

Do you know that Jesus died?
Or do you know Jesus die for you…

Do you know that he is risen?
Do you have his love, his friendship?
Does he lives in your heart?
Do you have his forgiveness.


Do you know about God?
Or do you personally know him
Do you know him?


Details | Free verse | |

A walk with me

Waves crash the rocks in ecstasy
as I pass the archway 
to the sea.
Onwards to the village, 
busy cafes,
the aroma of coffee brewing,
as a power of teens gather, texting.
 
I venture down 
a chestnut lined road
under a canopy 
of Copper Beech
where bright shafts of sun
illuminate a lane of lavender 
a sea of perfume
wafts the air.
 
Climbing an incline, 
hills in view,
the distant sobbing
of water sounds
a trickling brook emerges
ambling through magenta heather
and thorny gorse.

I reach a stile, 
entrance to the woods
where a carpet 
of frosted red cyclamen 
bleeds down to a deep dark glen.
A chicory lake lies there, frozen
as a mist uncurls between reeds.
  
The granite hills,
 soft with snow,
luminous against a whale grey sky.
A copse of pine trees
surround a curving river
where trout pout, bubbling.
 
At the fold of day, 
returning hom
The pale sun sinks the horizon
as stars tremble
into a velvet night




Details | Rhyme | |

Your Loving Eyes

Reminiscing of days filled with laughter and joy
Waiting for a new adventure to begin
Mangoes and peaches, palm trees and beaches
God, I wish I was sailing again
I remember the islands and the ports we had visited
Sailing under God's blue skies
I remember your charms, wrapped up in your arms
Gazing into your loving eyes.
Though the years have passed and the days are gone
The memories remain forever more
Someday my friend, we will meet again
And walk along that distant shore.
The fishing village nestled in a small cove
The smell of fresh fish and the sea
Call me it seems to relive my dreams
And the days you were here with me.
As I walk in the sun toward the marina
Where my little fishing boat lies
I remember the sights and the warm summer nights
Gazing into your loving eyes.


Details | Rhyme | |

Sexy

   Sexy is the way 

    her lips move on his ear. 

     Never touching 

      always whispering 

       things I'll never hear.


Details | I do not know? | |

Today Is Terrible----

The cracked spine of
the book I dropped
at the call.
A chip in my
windshield left by a
pompous *?#@! in a
red sports car as I
drive to the
service.
Rain expectorating
from an ashen sky as
the dirt is turned.
Today is terrible.
Though this is less
terrible than the
crack in grandma’s
spine from her fall
down the stairs.
The chip in her
amazingly smart mind
after eighteen years
as a teacher.
Tears running,
dripping from my
Mothers ashen face
as she cries “My
mama’s dead.”
Today is terrible.
Though this is less
terrible than the
cracked family
emotions left raw
and empty.
The chip in Grandpas
numb mind at the
gathering… “Where is
Irene she should be
here?”
Faces gone ashen
with dread, do we
leave him numb or
remind him that his
wife is dead?
Today is terrible.
Though this is less
terrible than the
empty silences,
missing the jokes
Grandma used to
crack.
Grandma’s laugh and
her endless smile
which always exposed
that tooth with the
chip in it.
Without her the
world has become
empty, bleak, and
ashen.
Today is terrible.

                   
                   
                   
          Summer
Gratias


Details | Rhyme | |

A Lesson From The Birds

Lying in my hammock, I'm looking at the sky.
No matter what goes on down here, the birds go sailing by.
They don't pay me attention, for I am no concern.
I feel if I watch long enough, there's so much I could learn.

What is it that they're showing me that I have yet to see? 
They fly and soar without a care, just happy to be free.
I guess I'm very lucky to be living as I do.
I have nothing that I yearn for and my bills arn't overdue.


I'll just lie here in my hammock on my front porch in the shade.
I'll thank the birds for showing me that I've really got it made! ! 


Details | Rhyme | |

The maze of life

The maze of life



Rocked by the waves of emotions and reality,
I follow the rhythm far from conformity.
The cry of my soul overwhelmed by sorrow,
Praying for the hope of a better tomorrow.

The journey of life and its sharp end corners,
So often ignored are the foresight warners.
Who, with the wisdom gracefully acquired,
Guide the ones that the One inspired.

Some paths are wide…. some are narrow,
In some…  are set up traps in a row.
Resembling a maze fit with diversity,
Crossing paths with beings indulged in adversity.

The meaning of love is a foreign dream,
The test of kindness has drowned in a stream.
As for the humble notion of genuine care? 
Its essence foolishly outstripped … bare.


Details | Rhyme | |

My fifty years in a nut shell

I was born fifty years ago on April 10th 1964
Looking back through the years I began to explore

My mama said when it was time for me to be born
I decided to come early and fast in the wee morn

Born five week premature with jaundice I had to stay
High fevers, convulsions and even a coma would come my way

But by the grace of God I made it through each and every one
I could have died before my life really started or even begun.

And through my fifty years God has shown me grace and mercy 
As I look back I’m so glad he loved me and thought of me worthy
 
I remember my first home in Hayward on Burr way
Memories are a little foggy but my sense of home will stay 

Moved to Dixon when I was just four years old
To a big beautiful house where my life started to unfold

This would be the place I would meet my life long best friend
She was playing in our backyard the first day we moved in.

So many memories in this house in Dixon on Marvin way
 A Baby deer named Bambi and our first dog named Maggie mae

My life sized doll house my parents gave me as a birthday surprise
I would spend hours in there with my plastic appliances making mud pies

Life was blissful and I had not a care in the world I was living
Until the day my parents sat us down and said they were splitting

I just remember crying and in total shock this was happening
My parents would no longer be together my whole life unraveling 

We ended up moving to a two story house with mice and peeling paint
Mom worked long hours to feed us four kids who showed no restraint

My mom struggled to balance work and being home with us four
Soon my brothers moved to dads who’s idea was it I’m not sure

My dad died August 19th 1979 at the age of forty from a massive heart attack
I didn’t know then how this would change my life but now can see its full impact

 My teen years were cut short because I decided to become a mom
How scared I was to have to drop “mom, I’m pregnant” bomb

Have you ever heard of the song “Going to the chapel of love?”
Married now at seventeen feeling all grown up; well sort of.


On January 2nd 1982 my daughter Melinda was born fuzzy & screaming
Didn’t know what I was really get into, I must have been dreaming

She was the first baby born of the year and was the winner of two contests
So many prizes couldn’t collect them all but we sure tried to do our best

Isn’t it funny how you imagine how it would all work out in your young mind?
But then reality sneaks up on you and smacks you hard on your behind.

Now a single mother at the age of nineteen and moved back in with my mom
 And throughout my life I will make poor decisions but no need to write every wrong

Pregnant at twenty with my son Joshua and Melinda now two almost three
I didn’t know what I was going to do but knew they deserved better than me

This you see will be the hardest thing I would ever have to do in my life
I chose to give Josh new parents whom I lived with until I said goodbye

I was blessed to have pictures and letters sent through his growing up years
I remember the first letter I received from Josh I was so nervous eyes filled with tears

My son Brandon was born on my mom’s birthday he was my biggest and my last
He was my little dare devil and escape artist who was always trying to get past

He would like to climb out of his crib and sneak out the front door for a stroll
I chained and locked the door and even barred the windows thinking I was in control

Till one day two police officers were at my door wanting to see him and talk to me, I guess
They said a neighbor called out of concern and then the police threaten me with CPS.

I have been married more than my fair share to tell the truth and it’s hard to admit
 I have walked down the aisle six times and finally found the one to whom I commit

TJ is my husband who I met six years ago and have been married to him for three
Unable to have children of his own he now is known fondly as Dad, Padre and Papa T

My grandchildren make me smile just thinking of them and oh how I miss their precious faces
I have eight all together and love each and every one so much my heart had to grow extra spaces

As I look through my mind’s eye and examine my past adventures, blessings and sorrows
I have come to realize to cherish each and every moment because no time can be borrowed



My fifty ….. In a nut shell.

 


 


Details | Free verse | |

The Augusts of Summer

How I wish
I could go back
To when I didn't
Have a care in the world.
I wish for the days
I spent running
Barefoot in the grass
Laughing in the summer
And eating icy cold popsicles.
I want to be free again,
To not have to think
To go and do as I please,
Ride a bike
As fast
And as far as I can,
Or swim
In freezing cold waters,
My cheeks turning purple,
My lips tasting salty.
I wish to sit on a hill
With my childhood friends,
And eat cherries by the bag
And draw on the sidewalk
With an ice cube.
How I long to relive my memories,
How I long to be young again
A carefree kid, in the hot Augusts of summer.


Details | I do not know? | |

Guignol

The musty lights corrupt the stage
Twisting the form of the heavy curtains
Framed by the stolen shadows of cherubs
A delicate music box whispers into the guilded room
A faint perfume of smoldering limes bitter the air
This night could be Prague, Vienna...
Then I conquer the stage, arise and fulfill the lights
Only to again to have my dignity murdered infront of me
Adressing a hollow room
The only half-sound, glowering laughter in my mind
The meadow of poppy-red seats stare through the dark
The lights sharpen from their soft glow
And regroup as piercing arrows
Stripping me down
Back to my soul
I questioned why the others left 
	(and they question why I stay)
Neither are sure if it's through choice, or truth
Living in this dead theatre


Details | Quatrain | |

THE SEASONS OF MY LIFE

                                  THE SEASONS OF MY LIFE

In the Spring time I was blossoming,
The world was bright and new.
I learned to laugh annd cry and fight,
For what I knew was true.

That there`s a time to have your fun,
And there`s a time for work,
A time when we must learn to earn,
And value all life`s perks.

In Summer time I learned of life,
Of people and the world.
I learned that life`s a mixture,
Of experience, a whirl,

That sometimes life moves way too fast,
It should be sipped and savored,
Or else it plays out way too soon,
And loses all it`s flavor.

In Fall I learned acceptance,
That what must be will be.
It does no good to fuss and fret,
`Bout what was denied me;

For some it seems are richly blessed,
While others get the crumbs,
Who gets what is up to God,
From Whom all good things come.

Now Winter fast approaches,
And what`s important now,
Is what memories I`ll leave behind,
Who remembers me, --- and how.

                                                   Judy Ball


For At This Age Contest by Nette Onclaud


Details | Free verse | |

Death comes to an Old Man

An old man, worn and wearied by the toils of life, 
stood alone in a darkened hallway, 
each wall hung with brightly lit paintings. 
He walked by the Mona Lisa, and as he passed 
he knew the reason for her smile. 
He paused before Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt, 
and the air seemed to be sweetly scented with the heavy perfume of roses, which pulled at his soul with soft, wraithlike arms.
He stopped.
The world seemed to shrink away from him,
dissolving into nothingness.
Before him was Van Gogh's "Starry Night"
Its yellow paint looked wet, vivid.
The blue rippled as the colours swirled
together, hypnotizing; the old man transfixed
by their mesmerizing beauty 
as he was swept up into their whirling splendor,
leaving the blue-shadowed hallway silent and empty,
as the pale stars wavered on in cold brilliance


Details | Verse | |

Fisherman we were

I can remember,
Those warm sunny days,
As we sat on the beach,
Watching wave after wave.
Seeing the sea grass wave,
In the warm summer breeze,
Droplets of water land on my face,
As we sat on the beach watching the sea.
We walked for miles collecting hundreds of shells,
Carefully climbing the jetty,
The clean sea air is all you can smell.
We hoisted the sail on our small sailboat,
With only one big gust of wind,
We were no longer afloat.
We woke at dawn,
to spend our day on the bay,
Fisherman we were,
Even if only for one day.
All those happy memories,
Etched deep in my mind,
Will remain forever,
By the best dad of all time.


Details | Free verse | |

Scummy Puddles

Beaten
Smashed
Kicked
And splashed
Out into the street
Like dirty bathwater

Nothing more than a filthy puddle
Rising over the curb
Flooding the sidewalk cracks
Eager for evaporation

Every hair
Is On end

Every pore
At attention

Yearning skin
Is stretching for a touch
That never existed
Pulled 
Like the blankets
Of children
Over worried heads
Attempting 
Their Satisfying seclusion

For when there is no direction
Passion is formless
And love loses shape


Details | I do not know? | |

The needle stings but sews

Grandmother sits in her rocking chair 
nearly as old as she 
ragged patches of scrap spread across her lap. 

She tells stories from her eighty years of senescence, 
of faces now aged, some no longer bound by this earth 
as though they were still enjoying the blessings of youth- 
as fresh in her mind as the daisies and buttercups I picked for her this morning 
and placed beside her chair; 
its occasional accompanying squeaks affirming her words from time to time.


She did not know then that she was sewing two blankets for me; 
weaving quilts of words 
from patterns of memories 
patching good times to bad 
making one smooth blanket of emotions. 


The needle stings-it's true 
but only so little by comparison 
to the warmth it provides


Details | Verse | |

A Precious Love

A precious love that takes all fears away
I found inside the cupboard here today
The friend that is beside me now to stay
 
He walks with me from here to over there
A friend indeed, he travels everywhere
O how I love my dear old teddy bear.


Details | Free verse | |

In the Shallows

           I bent over to touch my toes
               and the ground tore open like a backbone.

I tried to feed myself the sky;
to splice my tearducts into the universe 
so that, when the pavement cried, it would mean something to me.
My fingernails punctured that slimy membrane
congealed with stars, 
and I brought a slice of it to my lips,
hot and slippery like a jellyfish.
Peach juice, chalky-sweet, flowed,
fleshy particles snagged in my teeth,
and the colors erupted within my mouth.

Synthesia took over my lungs.
The hollows between my knuckles flooded with synovia
and all the ectoplasm threatened to separate from my cells
with a sound like thunder.
Diphthong tasted rusty like leukoplakia as it tiptoed across my tongue.
Tomorrow rose like the skeletons of trees, 
groping for a feeling similar to catharsis
[catharsis tender as the broken wings of doves,
crunching underfoot like shattered glass.]

The clouds opened their thunderous maws
- teeth snicker-snacking, lamplight-eyes flaming the color of E#'s -
and consumed me.
I felt my skin turn to something other than skin:
thick and rough with scales,
my fingerprints melting into something waxen, smooth and opaque,
like pomegranate kisses on coffee mugs.
A feeling ignited deep in my structure;
cedillas blossoming like lilies from my lips,
fragmented sentences stretching taut as guitar strings
between my thumb and forefingers.  
A flutter gentle and demonic as Calcifer erupted from my system
- splattering hot and frothing into my hand -
and fluid rushed in.

   I dared to taste oblivion,
       and the sky swallowed me. 

My lungs failed to be lungs.
They flooded with caustic matter,
and I coughed up reflections sharp as fiberglass;
fighting with organs phthisical and sore.
I struggled to find a way to describe it:
the feeling of consuming something greater than yourself,
of opening your eyes and tasting the sound of rain.
It was like swimming, 
but inside out.

            I bent over to touch my toes,
              and my spine tore open;
            the loose laces unraveling, veterbrae poking out
          like the tines of forks.
            I tried to contort myself into the beginning,
              but I only found where I end.


Details | Free verse | |

First Love

We treat it like a marble 

in our pocket for a while 

we win it 

we lose it 

but no matter where it goes 

it always holds 

the warmth of our hands


Details | Ode | |

' The Face Of Love '

Will I Recognize… The Face Of Love?
Or the Wonderful, Bedazzled Appearance of:
A Moon-kist Meadow, Hushed and Dark
A Solitary Silhouette, this Beauty Mark,
Windswept Grasses, like a Babe’s Soft Lashes
Rippling across Earth, that’s smooth as a Cheek.
In the Hushed and Flowery Scented Air…
Your Face of Love Materializes, Silvery, Full
The Face of Love … is Unforgettable.

From the Face of Love … Will I Withdraw?
The Face of Love without Any Flaw;
As a Canopy of Clouds with the Splendor of Sunbeams
Piercing past the fluffy powder of Heaven, to Radiate Gleams
A Classical Cameo-Sculpture, Perfect Profile Structure
Yea… in the Bright Beacons, I see Your Smile
In the Illumed, Clear Sky, ‘Your Face’
Can Love’s Face be Touched … Attainable?
The Face of Love … is Unforgettable.

The Face of Love … I Have Visualized,
Potent, Breathtaking, The Vision Rised;
From a Sunlit Lake, Winking as Would Diamonds.
Your Face of Love, Emerging from Far Beyond
The Depths of the Lake, as My Heart Quaked,
because of the Wavering Portrait’s Peace
because of Water-Color Caresses.
That Face of Love, was so Tangible.
The Face of Love … so Unforgettable

The Face of Love … has Gazed Upon
Dreams of Mine, the World’s Not Known
… Out of the Woodland’s Emerald Mist
With Drops of Dew, Love’s Face Kissed
The Framing Boughs; My Relaxed Brow.
Floating… Breathing out the Mist of Morn Light
That I may Sketch Your Face of Love, in Life.
The Face … More Handsome, than Sons of the Womb, is Possible…
The Face of Love … is Unforgettable

(For A Medieval-Tongued Poet, I Found Here at The Soup...
          Ismael Nieves, this one's for you Kiddo

                                 Mistress MoonBee


Details | Free verse | |

home

softly lingering 
in the angelic silence
of a magical new night..

i remember whispered words
the softness of your breath
tingling the nape of my neck..

your eyes were deep
touch light as a feather
my head on your chest..

the scented sea air
delicately cocooned us
as our lips barely touched..

waves lulled our own melody 
of sacred tunes
as hearts became one..

i remember the moment
that time stood still..

how do i describe
something bigger than words..

for in the air
that i breathe..

it is you
who has blessed me...

heaven sent you 
amidst the stars above..

the sound of your heartbeat
was when i knew..

i

was

home.


Details | Free verse | |

Chemistry

The simultaneous effect 
of two glances 
across the last remaining 
distance between them 

Then 
    when first they met 

Now 
    when they are apart 

Each carrying within 
   the beat 
     of the other's heart


Details | Free verse | |

i look so small from up here

fame,
you bitch
it was you who taunted us
we walked
on razor sharp blades
of grass
gras
p
ed
at straws
covered in white dust 
inside
on the surface

on the surface
we used the word art
and crapped on it
like so much hay

hey
we did it every day
in every way

without a kiss
we fornicated 
on the carpet
where we rehearsed
our play
that was when

well

that was when

we jumped 
from the edge
from the cliff
when our bodies 
crashed into the rocks
and even a rock garden
punctures 
through
the 
layers and layers
of skin
of flesh
of tributaries
of bone
layers and layers 
of blood
of platelets
of cells
of liquid…life

landed from a hundred yards up.

it was you on my mind
and you know we didn’t die

when we jumped
from our school
from the edge
when our bodies
transcended
matter
like 
spirits
and 
spirits
was our addiction

the smoke
the pills
the blotters
the powder

you caught my eye

and we 
let our schooling
get in the way 
of our love
what we loosely 
called our art

but i did 
fall
i fell hard

the day i spiralled 
quickly
d
o
w
n
from the rock
where i stood
and you know
you were
you are
the edge

and you know
it’s you

the day
i fell

you
i fell for

and me who took the fall
from
my 
my 

my
oh
my



Details | Light Poetry | |

' Rain, Fire, Ice and Breeze '

I Watched A Man, Named, ‘ Rain ‘
Pounding Across The Plains
Running with Cascading Joy
Like a Wet, Happy, Little Boy …

I Found A Man, Named, ‘ Fire ‘
Blaze in Life, A Lightning Desire
His Bold Passion – Consuming Power
Sent Smoke Signals, to My Tower

I Observed A Man, Named, ‘ Ice ‘
Tho’ Frost-Natured, He Did Entice
‘ … Come Hold Me, if You Dare …
And Find Out, if Cold-Can-Care …’

… I Beheld A Man, Named, ‘ Breeze ‘
And Begged Him, ‘Touch Me Please …
Gentle, like a Lover’s Kiss
Whisper to Me, Things I Wished…’

… and Sitting Content, on This Hillside
Listen Now… as I Confide …
‘ Rain and Fire … Ice and Breeze ’
Don’t You Know … You Are All Of These . . .


Details | Narrative | |

The Willows

Tomorrow’s times are in these eyes of mine.
Away and far my world shall part.
The Seas shall rise from their depths of deep.
And in the glow of the shadows the willows will weep.
The Sun will rise as my days still come,
The glory, the power, it is the rains with Sun.
Tomorrow’s times are in these days of mine.
Far and gone my world shall bond.
The Mountains will fall from their heights they climb.
And in the glow of the shadows the willows will shine.
Tomorrow’s times are in these thoughts of mine.
Gone and here my world shall fear.
The Lands will separate the world by Sea,
And in the glow of the shadows the willows will be.
Tomorrow’s times I know are mine.
Here it is that I fear I’m near.
My Land, my Seas, my Mountains of plain sight,
And in the glow of the shadows the willows shall shed their light.

®Registered: Ann Rich 1998


Details | Free verse | |

i smile now

i think of the
miles
and
streets
i crossed
to bump into you
and
i smile now
because i realize
that until you lifted your head 
to see where you were going
you could never
see me coming


Details | Light Poetry | |

' The Pearl Ensemble ... '

… I Awoke to  A Classical, Pearl Ensemble
A String Quartet’ Upon My Pillow
Your Bass, Echoed – like an Ocean-Rumble
‘… I Love You …’ Plucked the Polished Mellow-Cello’

and the Flawless Violins and The Viola – Flow
Rushed to my Wavy Shore – Aglow
Displayed and Spilled, like a Whirlpool- Vibrato …
… Your Cultured Concert, left me … Staccato’

… I Awoke to A Classical, Pearl Ensemble
A String Quartet’ Upon My Pillow
and as Each Iridescent Drop, Solo-Sheen-Tumbled
… My Own Heartstrings, did Crescendo... Maestro


Details | Couplet | |

Mother's Wisdom

We nurture them within our bodies, birth them in a blinding pain,
suckle them on breasts so swollen, till we think we’ll go insane.

We kiss away each painful boo-boo, bandage each and every wound,
show them that in spite of roundness, peas can stay upon their spoons.

We intercept their nostril’s flowing, be it green or white as snow,
wiping gently ever hoping, for the day they’d learn to blow.

We give to them each ounce of wisdom, try to teach them everything,
suddenly, for unknown reasons, screw it up and give them wings.

We mourn a bit, those cherished moments, when on us they did depend,
days when we were super heroes, possessing wisdom without end.

We watch the journey proudly knowing, as they soar into the light,
Mother’s wisdom, though not perfect, lends the wind that gives them flight.


Details | Free verse | |

Your Game

Your words used to soothe me, 
flowing over my skin 
as your hands caressed and teased. 

Your tongue used to please me, 
licking every inch 
savoring every drop of me. 

Your lips used to hold me, 
pressed onto mine 
during explosions of orgasm. 

Your eyes used to search mine, 
as you drove into me 
finding that spot and claiming my being. 

Your trust I had; beliefs for me 
while your web you wove 
so glad I faked it all.


Details | Narrative | |

A Understanding Of The Past

I remember summers past in the south 
and the sultry heat.
Iced tea and back porch confessions.


Making time with that first love.
The swing underneath  that old tree.
The radio playing softley in the background.

Thoose ways have long since died.
Replaced by a breakneck pace.
As were all to willing to forsake a conversation between 
two human beings.
It's all about one night stands and bragging rights.
 

It's like comparing velvet to burlap.
All harsh no mystery.
Where people would rather surf the internet
than ocean.

The passion of the kiss.
Is but a dinosaur that people 
view as some old silent film.

A blanket underneath the stars
Has been replaced by a encounter in a 
bathroom stall.

Upward we advance  as deeper  we sink within the
mud.
As the poet reflects  ink drying 
in he pen.

I recall thoose times so very slow.
To this sudden stand still.
Like a pile up on the interstate.
I no longer live I wait.

But the sunset still haunts me.
Along with the scent of the salt filled air.
that tree's swing does no longer stand.

As in dust and memories it's been taken with 
the wind.

The road echos  of another time.
For all that was free and wild.
Is slowley vanishing.

As we blindly advance.
I'll sit and watch the tide.
And be happy to be left behind.


Details | Lyric | |

The Escapist's Plea,

I dont know where i'm going anymore hard to tell who you are when the indiffrency has settled in cold, empty, barren will i ever find a way? Help me find a way out of this sorrow filled cage My soul singed with everyday Reality so hard to face I need to find a way to escape Only if i could just fly a way I try to stay sane But i fell under the september rain A repuiem for the reality That i never wish to see Help me find a way out of this sorrow filled cage My soul singed with everyday Reality so hard to face I need to find a way to escape Only if i could just fly a way I need a way to escape, Only if I could just fly away


Details | Rhyme | |

Sapphires and Fireflies

Tonight, of all nights, I catch the falling sky
while the world spins off it's axis out the corner of my eye
My room is barely lit by a single firefly
as I blow the trees off mountains with a singulary sigh.

The resin of the moon is the shadow of my face
The stars collide and sprinkle dust to make their big escape
They land among the treetops as an ember burnt through space
curling ribbons in the leaves at a wilted sparkler's pace.

Climb my psyche if you will
spin the world backwards better still
tear me off a sapphire pill
to fix this woe that's made me ill.

Tonight, of all nights, I say good bye
as the weight off my back gently slides
I still have that light from my firefly
so if you don't mind now I'll close my eyes...


Details | Lyric | |

The Downward Spiral (with a nod to NIN)

She sees herself suddenly as a small girl
bare feet on the cold black and white tile
little toes curled
sees the white porcelain tub and
how pretty the light blue water was
so deep it almost came to her chin
as she climbed in

For hours she'd play with her dime store sailboat
loving it though it would hardly float
always taking on water
listing, never level
her wet skinny back hunched over
shoulder blades like primordial wings
every few minutes she'd have to shake the thing

Trying desperately not to break the spell
of pretend
and when
it was time to let the water out
she'd always stay to watch the water drain
weighing the emotional pain
both fascinated and horrified,
as the suction intensified,
by the force of the water
the unstoppable slaughter
waiting for the inevitable rotation
to begin
the dizzying spin

Slowly at first growing faster and faster
a miniature cyclonic water disaster

The dime store boat of course on its side
circling faster in the relentless tide

Then the drain would give a horrible belch
much satisfied with itself.

As she grew the tub got smaller
with shallower water
less and less room
for pretend to bloom.

Years later, dime store sailboat long forgotten,
life having been mostly rotten
working with the most cynical of cynics
ER nurses bitter that it's more like a clinic
runny noses and coughs that folks thought were urgent
working hard to save those who were truly emergent

Hearing from them the phrase: "circling the drain"
memories suddenly flooding the brain
almost able to feel herself as that young girl
watching the sailboat beginning to swirl

Feeling the blood drain, face going pale
she sees vividly the boat with its bright red sail
yellow hull and blue plastic deck
fine hairs rising on the back of her neck

She realizes now the fatigue of age
is from fighting the pull with defiant rage

The closer you get, the faster you spin
and soon the dark whirlpool draws you in

With a knowledge that seems to be purely primal
she now understands the downward spiral

And she knows that she will not put up a fight
she'd rather go silently in the dark of the night

And the dime store boat comes to rest on its side
so it's all come full circle at the end of the ride.

SADNESS
©Danielle White


Details | Blank verse | |

Blue Bottle on the Left

Trapped, in the blue perfume bottle over the sink,
is the first time I met you.
It sits there in scent with nothing to prove.
No longer made, these moments.
You could maybe import them from France,
or Germany, but you'd be taking a chance at a replica.
First encounters are too precious not to be bottled,
don't you think?
For in that moment, the air grows heavy
It clings to freshly washed hair and wrists of pheromones
It solidifies, compacts the pressure 'till eyes meet
and looks of guarded wonder are exchanged.
Compliments trade air and remain to be plucked and
garnished behind ears of victors.
The first time I met you, 
we sat inches apart and yet I felt your very touch
Electric scent to be bottled right then and there.
But what if you don't know it when you feel, sense, 
see it?
Will you lose it?
Perhaps. 
But I've always been on the look out for a new memory.
Your's was just waiting to be bottled, blue and glass
Less a replica then any other I've encountered
never to turn sour at the wrists or wane
but forever yet, encapsulated, bottled to remain.


Details | Tanka | |

Photographic Memory

All points meet at you~
the sky, the sun, the water.
A still photograph
holds my happiness in ink.
I pretend that you still smile.


Details | Imagism | |

dignity

across rooms gust strong winds
emptiness without formed cracks

shook narrow confines
from the darkness within

indeff,rent,rent songs
nostalalqiques dreams
attentive inhumane screams
desire to belong

to accept dignity
speak sweet
accept defeat and
smile throu tormented peace.


Details | Free verse | |

If I Forget

If I forget,
Remind me of your name
As it must have slipped away.

If I forget,
Show me a photo of my face
As it surely has changed.

If I forget,
Take my hand back to that place
For I've certainly lost my way.

If I forget,
Breathe a gentle breath in my ear
If will calm my fear and rekindle the flame.

If I forget,
Bring the heart straps
That held me to you like glue.

And if I forget,
Carry the memory of us
It is lost but a treasure on a raft on the waves...

TRS, 09/13/08


Details | I do not know? | |

Rest

Cancerous and tired
Drowned in a blunt loneliness
Again, the angel cried
Without a tear, voiceless
Cradled in the wind's silent caress

The moon, sole in the sky
Monolith of a forgotten day
Feathers scattered, unable to fly
The angel, mute, no more hands to pray
Restless, sleeping in dismay

From the darkness, new days arise
Senseless conundrum, undeniable
Unfortunately, the angel was wise
Hopes, only tales from a gone cradle
A lifeless God's deceptive mumble

Stars died in the blood of dawn
The angel's wounds slowly faded
The world's puppet, a mindless pawn
Twilight, once more desecrated
Another silly day for the condemned...


Details | Terza Rima | |

Star Mark

To breathe, exhale into the dead of night
a thousand breaths like dandelion stars
We crisp the air in shadows of hindsight

The blackened gulf is blinded by the shards
of strobing thoughts and whispered melodies
in crystal cutting glass on blackened tar

We strip the sky to cellophane memories
a candle wick of dew and star regrets
with sticky tongues of darkened parodies

While knowing that a star long burned begets
and turns to ash and fallen bitter glow
our still exhaling tangible detects

To breathe, and yet to infinitely know
our wishes blow to space and far beyond
to light our future travels as we go...


Details | Light Poetry | |

' Where Are The Words ? ... '

Where Are The Words …
I Am Looking For Words …
… That Will Give Meaning
To Meeting You, This Evening

And What Can I Say ? …
What I Long To Say …
Instead of, Good To See You Friend
And Oh, How Have You Been ?

… Such Polite Conversation
Is Safe Presentation
Nothing More … So Much Less
I Need Hunger- Honestness

Packed With A Passion
Full-Out Conflagration
Instead of A Shy, Dulcet Tone
I Wanna Torch-Talk You, To The Bone !

Use Words, To Sear You To Your Soul
Singe, Deep Inside Your Soul
Soft and Husky In Confessions
Words, That Demand Actions

Emotive, Elusive, Essential
Elocution of The Quintessential
Romanticism Expressed …
The Pleasure Of Your Face, Eagerness

In Bold Explorations, Evolved
From Virgin-Feelings of First Love
That Make It Seem … Like Last Night
Invoking Future Visions, So Bright !

Oh, Where Are The Words ? …
I Am At A Loss For Words …
So Many Things, I Want To Let You Know …
Instead of Just Saying … ‘ Hello ’…


              For:  Ismael Nieves 
Who Has Such A Passionate Style To His Poems
(and Also, The Little Joke of Big Words Between Us …
Hope You Enjoy This One Kiddo - Smile)


Details | I do not know? | |

Times Have Changed

Times have changed; 
I’m older than I used to be.
It bugs me that I cannot speak fluent fun,
and a starched manner has become
a lot clearer to me now.

A reflex of control, nurtured by
plentiful breaths is gradually shooing
passion out of my vocabulary.
Still, I cannot slow down 
the phases of the moon, 
or soothe the fine lines upon my brow.

Times have changed;
I’ve grown to humour the inevitable.
Enthusiasm is growing tedious,
I am older than I used to be.


Details | Narrative | |

What Mattered Most

Company stores taking most of the paycheck
Days were long and hard at the breaker
It beat being down there, rats were moving
No injuries today, good news
Body hurts, but the kids will be home from school
Stop and have a few before supper
They're growing so fast, soon the hugs will be gone
Shower in the cellar, she doesn't ask for much
Don't want all that tracked through the house
Daddy's home, their bright eyes shine
Got to take care of what matters most
It doesn't get any better, mom, give me a hug
Supper was great, need help with the dishes?
Got some change in my pocket
Might be enough for some ice dream cones
Let's go kids, we'll take a walk
Stop by Grandma's house on the way
Piggyback ride for the little guy
No money left 'til payday
Got all we need. Grab a bucket
We'll pick some blueberries on the way home.
So nice. Almost a touch of Heaven
Just taking care of what mattered most.

          Life in a small minig town. Family, friends, co-workers were what mattered 
most. I'd trade it all for yesterday.


Details | Rhyme | |

Virtue in Essence

Mint in the eyes, metal in mood
buckled in sunshine, burning in brood
You represent all in life that is good
I long to be in your presence.
Sipping your whispers, earful and shine
standing like I still believe you are mine
Sappy and spindly in limbs while I pine
I miss your touch with a vengeance.
Wind in my mouth, catching my breath
pulling me forward until I accept
we are a mist from our birth to our death

We are the virtue in essence.


Details | I do not know? | |

Tortoise Evolved Lioness (2005)

Was once a tortoise, very timid and very slow
Was falling behind and others were on the go
Living and hiding in a shell
Didn’t succeed that well
Then one day changes appeared
I was adapting to what I once feared
My shell was cracking and I popped
My confidence rose and my demons dropped
I have evolved into a species striving to survive
I am electric now, I am alive
I am a lioness with a devised master plan
I’ll catch my pray when I can
Slowly but surly I won the race
Now everyone else has trouble keeping up at my pace


poemsbyrb@hotmail.com


Details | Bio | |

Night To Remember

It was long ago,
In time and space,
Where the night of my life...
Did take place...

The woman I loved,
In tender rapture we,
Were entwined,
In my mind,
For eternity,

To all else the world,
I was blind,
Our bodies and souls,
With just one mind..

We fell asleep,
till late that night,
To me, the world
Was never so right...

I'll remember that night,
Till the day I die,
And maybe longer,
If God does comply,

Those sweet hours,
Far too few,
The ultimate ecstasy
I ever knew.


Details | Rhyme | |

RIVERS

Rivers of life--that's what they are,
They cross our land from near and far,
Helping boats with food go up and down,
Bringing commerce and products to all the land.

Rivers flow-some slow, some fast-
They have brought many inventions from our past,
Fulton's steamboat, the first to be seen--
Started on a river flowing out to the sea.

Now, nuclear energy drives the great ships,
Out on the seas-everyone thinks this is so hip!
But boaters and fishermen still need the rivers,
So as we can see, rivers are still great givers.

Rivers of life-that's what they are-
Carrying trout, bass and other fish near and far,
I love to watch those currents so strong,
Sweeping its loads all night long.


Details | I do not know? | |

Kiss of Life

A humble man stumble into my life
so long ago in the land of white nights
Carrying the world of sadness without hope

Trying to hold on to some sanity and dignity
Trying to exist on little vodka and cigarette

As never ending sunset move to the west,
he left me with the kiss of life to remember
He put all of his heart and affections
to just one kiss alone
The first and the last

Just before his heart quit beating
He gave me the kiss of life to remember


Details | I do not know? | |

The Truth

Alone I would sit and quietly watch from afar
the little girl whom nobody knew
who was constantly in awe of a twinkling star
and forever questioned whether the sky was black or blue.

Her childlike innocence bore an unoccupied charm
to which boys would flock to entertain
on the outside she appeared cool and calm
but inside she felt great disdain.

Her eyes glistened like pools of emotion
staring reminiscently; memories in her mind
trying hard to control the reflection
but the words echoed cruel to be kind.

One smile would clear the thundering sky
one laugh warm the coldest day
but her head sank low and she began to cry
the pain she felt, too much to say.

Making excuses she quietly departs
as the faces turn to stare
she goes in search for her once lost heart
like an antique the best are always rare.


Details | Quatrain | |

Old Fashioned Christmas

The snow fell gently on a quiet street
Neighbors walked in without knocking
There was a feeling of joy in the air
As each child hung up their stocking

There was a coal fire in the heatrola
Which took a little while to start
O Come All Ye Faithful on the radio
And a warmth radiating from each heart

The kids all went to bed early
Couldn't sleep until early morn
Waiting for presents from Santa
And to celebrate the day Christ was born.


Details | I do not know? | |

If I

If my heart could stop hurting, and my smile could be real 
If my life could be altered and I could change how I feel
If life could sometimes feel like more than just a game
If my head could stop spinning at the sound of your name
If holding me could mean something more
If it didn't mean you were closing the door
If it could be harder for you to walk away
If I weren't so scared of a little change
If passion were endless and you didn't let go
If I had a new beginning, could I become whole?


Details | I do not know? | |

Nature's Poetess

As I chant my sisters' creed,
And forge my talisman,
I remember violent lullabies
That I still can't understand.
I say if these wilds could be controlled,
With wants to habilitate,
Than why on Earth would fractured souls
Still thrive to fornicate?
So here I am,
My guise be true,
Thy young sorceress,
Controlled by wilds of casting spells,
And sensual naughtiness!
I bled for them,
I chased the sun,
Now I've tied my tourniquet.
Everything that once was blue,
Is now raging violet!
The Garden's dark,
The moon is full,
I dance while I undress;
In this place, this dance, this time,
I am Nature's poetess,
As if somehow,
Back long ago,
With boundaries overstepped,
I led a life,
Oh hearts do Scream!
I lived a life unwept!
 


Details | I do not know? | |

Falling Notes

Falling notes
Mask an already present disguise
Fate is tempting
But he doesn’t believe in it
We’re not calm and quiet
We speak stately and pleasant
But the signals at the end of the bridge
Shout ‘Man over board’
And peering down, it’s you
Water-filled lungs and all


Details | I do not know? | |

Nightfall

Was it at the close of wakeful light 
  Rough cutting field and town, 
  The dark blade-cleaving deep, 
  Eyebrow sharp and scything down, 
  The landscape hacked to sleep. 

And if it were my dreamless sight 
  Of haloed streetlamp flicker, 
  Murdered shadows spring 
  To lope and slither quicker 
  As the chimes of midnight ring. 

What if the eyes cannot adjust 
  And discern the rise of day, 
  Screening past the chilly tomb 
  That so engulfs and hides away 
  In a heart of darkest gloom. 

What if I no longer trust 
  Evaporate of hearthside yore, 
  And apparitions die as must, 
  Would I freeze forever more 
  Beneath the sheet of nightfall's dust.


Details | Verse | |

Slow Burn

Forward momentum shuffles desire 
from conceptual states to real; 
the leaves on the boughs glow with autumnal fire, 
  drift down to the carpet of grass. 
In times of transition a slow burn proceeds 
until spring bears the fruit of rebirth; 
the gestate of feelings trickles and bleeds 
  like rainbows of oil upon glass. 

Steps beget steps and before one knows 
the travel of vision begins, 
traces of footprints on virginal snows 
  follow the dreams to the lair. 
Walk slow beside me, holding my hand, 
patiently keeping my faith; 
perhaps we will see from the place where we stand 
  how we made it from here to there.


Details | I do not know? | |

Childhood

Childhood is an imaginative adventure for which only you have a pass,
Childhood is a romp in the ocean with all the underwater mass.
Childhood is asking, "Why?" and only getting, "Because,"
Childhood is running in the cool grass in your bare feet with no cause.
Childhood is freeing your spirit, heart, and soul,
Childhood is going over the bridge without paying the toll.
Childhood is seeking that one good thing,
Childhood is flying on golden wings.
Childhood is really feeling that cool breeze on your face,
Childhood is wanting to run that one last race.
Childhood is the greatest experience you'll ever feel,
Childhood is a box you should never seal.


Details | I do not know? | |

If I could just go back

If I could just go back in time
To a place in my life that was so sublime
My Grandfather's farm on a warm summer day
The sweet smell of lilacs and fresh cut hay

If I could just go back in time
The smell of fresh laundry out on the line
Blackberry cobbler and fresh baked bread
Homemade ice cream and before we went to bed

If I could just go back in time
The taste of fresh strawberries right off the vine
Cat Hollow creek, that big swimming hole
Me and my brothers and our old cane poles

If I could just go back in time
To a place in my life that was just yours and mine
A  small southern Chapel
the vows that we say
My beautiful  wife on our wedding day

If Icould just go back in time
To the joy and happiness I left behind
If just for a moment, I'd give my last dime
If I could just go back in time


Details | Narrative | |

Just for Me

In the past I remember how things were so simple
When I was little my cheeks had such cute dimples
Looking back I remember how sweet I was as a child
When I think again my heart told me I was so wild
Yet, in time my simple choices was revealed as true as anyone
The reason I was the way I am today, I did things, to get done
Finishing lots of my undone ideas was so incredibly hard
So I figure my heart and choices should never hold in no bard
I never thought I would learn heart aches and pain
With such under statement I did things for no gain
I was a child who held true to what he has learned
But as we got older those kinda perspective would get me burned
When I made up my mind that people was not kind
I led myself in a confusion that I was blind
In the past I do recall that seeing is believing
So I was the one who stood their with friends leaving
Alone, I felt I did not belong, I cherish each person who knew me
I got older too see how the world works it stung me like a bee
The feeling of tingling ran through my vain
My view of the world and people who knew me was stained
Now I know they are out for their selves with no kind feelings
Life I know is just a joke because of who I hung out with seeing
Today as I look at the world it is in such shambles and astray
And rather fallow everyone I just walk away


Details | I do not know? | |

RIP Virginity

Dear Sir,my innocence is gone now, no more fear ,
Do you love to **** me again, I am always here.
I wonder when you taught me how to use a pen,
I was so into you but my ****** was in pain !
I was crying, i was too immature to understand
I was turning only 13, I couldn't feel what happened.
but I promise I never forget what you taught me at the end.
I begged you to stop and I looked into your eyes,
there was a reflection of a cruel world,that what I deserved!
Don't be afraid, mommy never knows what you did,
Nobody knows that you made me bleed.
Dear sir,my innocence is gone with all my tears,
as I had no safe place to hide myself from fears.
Nobody saw anything as your world was blind!
having hidden hatred inside,a virgin died.
Dear sir, time cannot erase your memories,
time doesn't heal all wounds,that you marked,
yes,you took my innocence that will be always on my mind.


Details | I do not know? | |

South African Freedom Day

freedom day 
(april the 27th 1994)


far too many brave compatriots died

and

flooding rivers of tears were cried

far too many families ripped apart

with

daggers cutting into their heart

the pain is felt still deep today
on this glorious sun-splashed South African Freedom Day

as we pause and remember those who do not remain with us anymore

as we appreciate the fruits that their sacrifice and struggle bore

far too many to count and to name

but we honour them all while we keep burning that eternal flame

...Oliver Reginald Tambo
...Chris Hani
...Solomon Mahlangu
...Prakash Napier
...Yusuf Akhalwaya
...Matthew Goniwe
...Neil Aggett
,,,Ahmed Timol
...Vuyisile Mini
...Hector Peterson
...Babla Saloojee
...Bram Fischer
...Dulcie September
...Sparrow Mkonto

just a few, but so many still nameless

who were brutally cut down
by a racist system that was merciless, and cruelly shameless

we honour you, today
but we remember you each and every day

when we breathe in the air of the freedom that you craved

as we walk the roads of a wounded but healing country that you saved

from itself, for the hate and racism and hushed prejudice of race and gender and religion and sexual persuasion and caste and creed

that you so valiantly fought against, is still with us, as it on fear and ignorance does feed

the odour of racism and hate
of white and black and jew and muslim and hindu and catholic and yellow and brown

is a living parasite that lives and thrives all across this beautiful world, from cities and villages and hamlets, to the smallest rural town

it may become a mark of shame upon us all 

so we have to, today, struggle against and boldly fight

for the sacrifices of the many can never be cheapened, by the polite dinner-table murmurs of hate, try as hard as they might

for if we as a nation, 
a country 
a world 
a people 

one people

are to truly step out of the lashing cold painful rain

we have to continue your struggle

so that your supreme sacrifices may not have been in vain...

and so we say 

'hamba kahle, comrades'

to you who laid your young lives down and slipped away

so that we who remain may in the sunlight and out of the rain live and breathe and stay

in a country, and in a world
where religion and gender and sexual-persuasion and all colourful hues

may mingle and love and laugh and cry together on the sun-filled avenues

so thank you, comrades, for showing us a better path that we must embark on as we shuffle onwards into a brighter tomorrow

away from the hurt of the past, and away from the tears and away from all the sorrow

for the true freedom that we seek now, is the freedom from our own racism, our own prejudices, our own sexism, our own petty hates and bottled-up anger

for therein, lies the fight ahead

for therein, lies the real and growing danger.
Aluta Continua!
Amandla Ngawethu!

The Struggle Continues...


Details | Salaam | |

Yeh khaalipan


Jab Meri Bechaini Mit Jayegi
Jab Mere Dilko Sukoon Mil Jayega
Yeh Khaalipan Mit Jayega

Do Pal Ki Chandni Ke Liye
Aj Bhi Zinda Hoon Main
Meri Khaamoshi Ke Ageh Aasmaan Bhi Khatam Ho Jayega

Kehne Ke Liye Toh Roz Marta Hoon Main
Thoda Aur Marne Ke Liye
Yeh Deewana Kal Phir Ayega


Details | Epyllion | |

Motherland

Motherland (Eclogue) 

In the country of my forefathers, 
Economy is friendless and upset, 
Politics are sleeping with labour, 
Justice is seducing foreign crime, 
Poetry is turned on, but it fears, 
Traditions keeps history hostage, 
Religions are attempting suicide, 
Nature is busy biting its tongues, 
Fruits are swearing at their trees, 
Education shows God axis finger, 
Seas gets shallow, graves deepen, 
Life confront its first nightmares, 
Death is satisfying its final desire, 
Future is stinking nothing but lies, 

June 13, 2003

By Mohlouoa Ntsasa


Details | Free verse | |

Generic Minds

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


Details | Senryu | |

Playground

Kids go down
The slide…they head toward the swings
TIME TO SCREAM!

Free time ends
Their parents want to go home
Frowns exchange 


Details | Haiku | |

The Internet: Return

A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
Procrastination!


Details | Rhyme | |

A Golf lesson

Over fifty years have passed,
Tho’ it seems like just the other day;
My father gave me golf clubs,
“It’s a game you need to learn to play.”

He said, “It’s very difficult, but so is life.
There’s more to learn than grip and swing and rules,
Like honesty and dealing with adversity;
Then, pointing to his head, “… and how to use ALL your tools.

Play the Course… and Mother Nature…
Focus on just one shot at a time;
Try to learn from each of your mistakes;
Then, do your best to leave them behind.

These clubs will teach you more
Than our ‘man to man’ talks.
This you'll learn for yourself,
So you can “walk the walk.”

“Practice makes better, but not perfect.
And always remember what they say:
‘”Golf is not a game that we can win.
It’s just a game we play.’”

His lessons served me very well,
Took them to heart and played the game.
And life is much like a round of golf.
Despite the bad shots, I’m always glad I came.





 









Details | Concrete | |

Ha ha

I THOUGHT YOU NEVER ASKED 


This morning the taste of mint and chocolate 
Upon my tongue 
My exposed nipples under my silky gown 

 you whisper words in my ear 
that I never heard before 
I sigh! with admiration as I tiptoe
 to reach for your kiss 

I put my arms around your neck 
You whispered softly
Make me hard with your eyes 
Be my dark surprise 

Ha! Ha! 
Why the laughter? 
Babe! it my way of saying yes! 
Oh! yes! oh yes 
and more 


Details | Monoku | |

Grandma

Threaded memories, the smell of my grandmother seeps from the pillow


Details | Free verse | |

Hunting Buddies

Christmas of my tenth year brought a four-ten shotgun.
No longer a tag-along kid
Assaulting the deep drifts struggling to keep up,
But a real hunting buddy.

First rule was to memorize the ten commandments of gun safety.
I labored with those rules.
Would we ever really go hunting?
We would go to the sand pits for target practice.
I could shoot good.

Then began lessons to drive.
Not really drive, but just as Daddy showed me,
I would, with exaggerated movements, put the car in forward,
Then reverse, and move it back and forth a few feet.
Stretching my spine to its straightest to see over the wheel,
And my toes to their longest to reach the clutch and break.
The makings of very heady stuff for such a little person to control a great monster 
car.
I drove great adventures in those back and forth few feet.

I didn’t really comprehend what he meant
When he told me I might be the only one
To drive for help in case of an accident.
So I learned, and loved the driving too.

It made me more and more my daddy’s boy,
And more and more impatient for the day to come.
The car mastered,
We headed home from the sand pits.

The day was gray and damp and promising snow.
The car heater blasting back the cold.
Cheeks stinging with color,
I would finally, slowly, pull from memory each word of each rule,
Adding a definition in my own ten year old words.

With ear crushed to my bedroom door,
I strained with every fiber to hear Daddy’s muffled tones.
He told Mom he was going hunting in the morning.
Then with breath caught up in lungs so tense they hurt,
Eyes squinted so closed it forced a tear,
Just as if I made it happen, he added,
“I’ll be taking Judy.”


Details | Personification | |

The Call of the Wild

Sharp fangs flashes as he growls
threatening to bring death
the eyes flames in fury
looking for an escape

He once ruled in his kingdom
the predator in a solitary wild
strength was his armor
never feeling sorry for his fights

One day a trap caught the king
in an iron throne, a crown he was given
yet he rejects the admires
for it is not what his heart desires

he longs of his life back
he was a beast, fierce and wild
freedom is his definition of love
one the master will never understand

The death that echoes in every flight
the chase that severs wretched life
the danger of the wild
now he cries his lonely howl in the night


Details | List | |

Words

Christmas
Tree
Christ 
Spirit
Celebrate
Season
Angel
Manger
Manger
North Star
Sheperds


Details | I do not know? | |

The Beach of Promises

The Beach of Promises


1.


Fingers entwined, barely touching,
turquoise waters teasing your dancing toes,

strolling along that serene deserted beach,
our promised dreams within aching reach.


2.


Hands clasped, holding on,
sea-breezes tickling the nape of your neck,

walking together, alone, vowing to never breach,
the dreams dreamed on that faraway velvet beach.


3.


Hands in my pockets, alone,
traces of you linger, teasing,

lost in my scribbles, your memory fading out of reach,

my thoughts ablaze, now and then,
catching a whiff of your fragrance,

wafting through alleyways of nostalgia,
your hand in mine on our pristine beach.




Details | Sonnet | |

SUNDAY DINNER A hillbilly sonnet

        SUNDAY DINNER  (Hillbilly sonnet)
Ma's cookin now, so come and set a spell
and you can bet we'll have her Sunday best
before the settin sun, and who can tell
what's on her stove--but it will meet the test.

Can't you just smell that fryin chicken now?
And you must know the gravie's fresh and hot
for pourin on them taters--I allow
a little more than I should have--so what?!?

The butter it just melts on bread so light
to compliment the vegetables we grow,
now if you know a life that's half as right
as this, you'd better make it yours to know.

   And I will say the grace, to thank God for
   what He has give--so He will give us more.
© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet


Details | Light Poetry | |

' My 300 Spartans ... ' ( or My Scheherazade )


To Commemorate My 300th Poem Here On The Soup

300 Solomons
300 Beacons
300 Spartans
300 Martyrs

300 Tales Done
300 Threads Spun
300 Heartsongs
300 Touchstones

300 Scheherazade
Only 700 More, GOD
and Wherever YOU Beam Me
10,000 More, Gleam Me

 - - - - - - - - - -

… I Have Lost 200 Poems
But Here Are 300
Because I Open My Arms
To Inspiration Undaunted …

“ Pancakes, Preserves, Poached-Egg & Pork
Maple-Syrup, Milk and Sun-Motes In The Morn
Calling My Name, Just Like Flapjacks To A Fork
Psyche Is Picking Up Poems, Like Babies Just Born “

- - - - - - - - - -

A Childhood Poem Remembered …

           I See The Moon
      and The Moon Sees Me
       GOD Bless The Moon
         and GOD Bless Me

… and Long Live, The Love Of Poetry …

                                 The  MoonBee


Details | Rubaiyat | |

Heart of Paradise

Beneath these rocks beats an ancient heart.
In this mountain the most important part.
It pumps the life giving nutrients to the air.
The rhythm of the ages where earthquakes start.

The blue of the sky is so very rare.
Makes one think that there is life without a care.
Enjoying a moment neath the trees so green.
Makes me want to spend eternity there.

Life has always been so peaceful and serene.
Most of the time there is like a dream.
Listening to the bees in the flowers hum.
Paradise perfected and on that I'll lean.


*Rubaiyat Form for John Freeman's contest


Details | Rhyme | |

Season's Round

Summer sunshine in her hair
The Autumn moon in her eyes
Winter’s promise buried there
Hints of Spring therein lies

The Autumn moon in her eyes
Winter’s snow upon her skin
The seeds of Spring wait to rise
To field the Summer once again

Winter’s snow upon her skin
Spring flowers to grace her face
Summer’s vow to come again
Until Autumn takes its place

Spring flowers to grace her face
Summer’s sunshine in her hair
Autumn hints leave bare a trace
That Winter’s cold will follow there


Details | Narrative | |

A Quiet Exit

A Quiet Exit


Poetry is disciplined

However, sometimes at the executive table
when a situation is not going according to plans
It's better to excuse yourself because of evil man

however, before leaving, relief a quiet fart
then make the exit,  gracefully glance
 over your  shoulder and smile
watch and observed who sense your present.

Ladies and Gentlemen have a wonderful day!


Details | I do not know? | |

Off Beat Bike Ramps

Off beat bike ramps
And a screaming grandfather that is not my own
Across a street with no name,
A boy sits on a stucco stoop,
With rocks in hand, aimed for my future
I ran away, or rather
Rode away on my bike
Around the block and grounded
Downstairs, an old lady
Appropriately named Clementine, for she was so sweet
A black and white floor for two little girls
Me being one of them, you being the other
I mistook Tom for my father once
And cried when my real one cut his hair
Scattered are the memories
But memorable nonetheless


Details | Ballade | |

To Sit All Alone

I sit so alone in the chill of the night
I feel in my heart a hand takes a hold
How is it so that I feel this great fright
This fear isn't young, this fear is quite old
All of the dreams crying at midnight, told
Oh how I'm sad, so alone in this dark
Let the flame in my heart, yield and ignite 
To begin my journey, too timid to embark.

To walk each step, to blur out of sight
To hold to the words that I said all so bold
To bow in my heart, my soul is contrite
How easy it was, my ambitions I sold
I sat there lonely, not to be controlled
Oh how I'm sad, so alone in this dark
I can not control this, this horrible fright
I must not allow myself not to embark.

I rejected your counsel, your words of insight
With my arms crossed, eyes I but rolled
How can I grasp the essence of light
When paranoid actions tend to enfold
The uncertain man with a touch all too cold
I must not be sad, so alone in the dark
For I can control this, this horrible fright
I will take these few steps, now I'll embark

I say this hopefully for my fear has been told
I hope more who sit, so alone in the dark
Will open their eyes and look not so cold
Will stand up and, dare to embark


Details | Free verse | |

Philokalia (Love of Beauty)

Unforgettable sweet horizon like the sleeping woman's hips...
Tortuous destiny whose yellow sadness tips
With centuries of sacred silence ;

After I pass the sacred glass beads through
Since the pink dawn and the sweet dew;
After I live "Philokalia", blessing the Lord's name
With one thousand sad prayers,
With faith that can move the mountains,
With complete devotion and obedience,
Silent like a statue of long endurance,
Could I remember her again?

From eternity, for ever had been
Above the waters without border,
The light of that very beginning in no world
And no time, but this cloud and the first Word
Who changed the trembling no time's order,
So that the paradise still mirrors in her eyes green…

Beard like our bishop, you'll wear: 
Lost you'll be for this world, my friend…
But your secret mad hope still moves like a lizard
In front of the rocks with human face.
With "Philokalia", your dreams will ascend...

Maybe, from heaven will drop a tear:
With bitter taste of grass and leaves of any honey September;
And the dawn with scent of woman will rest in no time's amber. 


Details | Ballad | |

The moon

The summer passed so fast
I thought you and I would never last
You told me our memories won’t be just a blast
Ever was I the one to doubt our past.

Clouds were soon hiding the sun
The difficult hadn’t even yet begun
I saw your shadow everywhere I went
I guess that’s just how much you meant.

But even in the darkest hour
The moon was there-a source of power
And each look made you feel so near
A dream to chase the presence of my fear…


Details | Free verse | |

Losing pieces

Oh, how I miss the dead…

... the softness in their voices
That I cannot recreate,
the warmth of their silence
Where now only cold remains;

And I know, oh how I know
That they are long gone
And I have been long removed
From those fuller times
But still, when I feel around my heart
I find that it is missing things
Parts long lost and dearly missed,
And I sit here feeling fatally incomplete
And I know-  that I can never be whole again.

But I still miss the dead,
And I miss the times
When I never knew
That I would live on
Missing the days when I was whole…

-So I still miss the dead
And the times when I was not hollowed by loss
Living every day with a lighter heart
So far from the times
 	when I would never be whole again.

And now, so far removed
from fuller times,
These few missing holes
they let in a chill wind
And somehow, these missing holes
they leave my heart heavy
And I know that it will grow heavier yet,
But I dread
That when I am lost
I die not just incomplete
But empty-
	Empty of all I could yet lose.


Details | Free verse | |

The Autumn Affect

There's something unspecific about the autumn nights
A certain shade of color that uplifts my inner child's eyes
Beside a cashmere moon Venus and Jupiter shine bright
Complimented by a sea of blinking infinite twilight
The scent of burning oak lingers in the air from home made fires
Reminiscent of a time when this man was just a child
Careless and so free to dream and any dream to live
Like feathers floating across a field carried by the wind
As a gentle breeze blows through the leaves shivering delightful gloom
Unlike flowers of springtime the disheveled autumn vibrance bloom
Leaves crackle beneath my feet along the skeleton tree path
Where I try to find my peace or a song to make me laugh
The air is so much crisper and also soothing when I breathe it in
Underneath a starry sky and brighter constellations of Heaven
Amidst the trail I pass a lovely couple holding hands
While their children run aside frolicking in a playful dance
An old man and his wife admire the view from a wooden bench 
With smiles on their face as if nostalgia is still their closest friend
Its these specific autumn affects that bring me sorrows and joy
Reminding me of all theses things Ive wanted as a man since I was a little boy 
Its times like these that I wish I wasn't always so alone
Because I would light an fire with my family and call it home


Details | Elegy | |

THE INCARNATE

 On a day never unseen
 when our souls are called to rest
 And our bodies returned to dust
 From whence they came
 Whether burdened with age
 Or unable to cross life's next stage
 If in bed we Lia in wait
 Or by force others do take

 On a day not unforeseen
 When the key to our creation
 Unlocks the door to mans destruction
 And all hope in life, LOST...!
As men have always been half
 in love with death

 Cyclically life and death move
 For death brings us sorrow
 But a day would come we will all follow
 And when again life is gone
 In new bodies we shall be born

 In whom evil dominates
 A lower being regenerates
 In whom good prevails
 A pure soul avails


Details | Elegy | |

Where are you

You flourished and blurred
like a spark on wind

Gracefully and quickly like a frightened hind
in pursuit of light

You harvested through bushy meadows
taken by blight

In struggle with plight
had you lost your might

And gave out
although never you gave up.

Where are you?
For you must be still there.

For I still can feel you
somewhere in the air.


Details | Senryu | |

Innovation Invigorates Inspiration: Tribute To Michael Jackson

My main man Michael Where you’re is where you’re, J Keep shining like stars ~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~ © Joseph Spence, Sr., 6/28/09 © 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. ~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~


Details | Free verse | |

Green Horse Trough

Hot sun on my back, leaning over the horse trough,
scrubbing the green slim off the sides.
The edge burns my hands and arms as I look for a hold,
Finally cooling the rim with water from the pump.

The bouquet from the trough instantly painted a familiar picture
Of hot, still summer lakes,
Sitting under ancient willows,
Fishing for what ever small life would sacrifice itself to a young fisherman.

Water bugs scoot around the tall grasses ringed with green algae.
Teased by a breeze, willow fingers wrap around a daydream.
One of conquering its mighty branches, with tree houses and rope swings,
While crawdads keep stealing the bait.

The water is clean and clear and cool again.
With memories of her own, my horse pays homage to my work
By burying her face in the trough up to her eyes,
And blowing bubbles out of her nose.


(Some warm nostalgia for a cold winter day.)


Details | Rhyme | |

The Social Norm

Drink the drink, and take the pills, lay on the medication.
But your soul's forever lost to them without persistent dedication.
There's things we've learned, and things we will, to decide us right from wrong.
But your ears are only open, now, to a techno-logic song.
Social norms have bound you tight, then cut you awf'ly deep.
And still your soul beneath the surface begs of you, relief.
You waded in their welcome waters, thought it nice and cool
But now I'm sure you've figured out you're lost in sorrows pool
So take it from who knows you best
Someone who has passed this test:

Before you drift out in the sea And the shore's no longer in your view, I promise that I'll bring you back And if I can't, I'll follow you. Before your legs and arms grow weak And you've passed your final tier, I promise that I'll hold your hand; I promise you I'll still be here. Before your lungs are filled with water And our souls are parted once again, I promise you that you're forgiven; I promise you I'm still your friend. Before you close your sunken eyes Inviting night to kill the day Know your bright was never slight And soon you'll see your way.


Details | Cowboy | |

My Roots Run Deep

My roots run deep & strong here in this place you curse & scorn
I couldn’t think of a better place than here to have been born

you say this is a dead end town, where dreams whither & die
I know this town has nurtured my dreams, seen them soar & fly

You say the cowboy has left & gone, run off by urban sprawl
Yet every morning, I still hear the young calves bawl

you talk of crime run amok & people no one can trust
I choose my friends carefully & fight for the right & the just

You say this is no place to raise a child, that they’ll not learn respect
but its our job to raise them up, their course in life direct

You say that no one gives a damn about another’s plight
but I have seen this town come together to turn a wrong to right

You say this town holds you back & you will never gain success
I can feel her sing my praises as I aim to do my best

I will stay here in this valley & no matter where I roam
I know my roots run deep here & I will always come back home

Pack your bags & go on down the road in search of better grazing
One day you will come full circle & return here to your raising

For your roots run deep here too, though you may curse & shout
and roots, home & belonging are what life is all about


© October 2003


Details | Sonnet | |

Tomorrow the Sun Shineth!

                   "...when power corrupts, poetry cleanses."
                     --John F. Kennedy


A frat asked, will you ever forgive her?
Come! The house has a toast for you tonight!
Now forget—this is not the way you were!
Let’s walk frat, tomorrow will be alright!

Let her go and have her own way each day;
Cleanse the taint with an aromatic bath
Let done be done forever—God molds the clay;
Come! Stand with us—let Him show you the path.

When entreated with her loveliest lies
Spread your wings to the sky with open ears;
Brittle vows and fragile oaths always die
Shallow days, months, years they too disappear.

Upon the rising sun—look to the East,
A royal feast, my frat—that’s the least!

~~~~~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~~~~~
© Joseph, October 22, 2008
© 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.

~~~~~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~~~~~


Details | I do not know? | |

A Story My Mother Told Me

someone always told me this with tears in her eyes...


(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)


a wife left South Africa in the 1960’s to join her husband 
who was in exile at the time...

in 1970 the husband was sent by the African National Congress to India to be its representative there...

the husband and wife spent two years in Bombay...

one afternoon the husband fell and broke his leg...

the wife knocked on their neighbour’s door, in an apartment complex in Bombay

the neighbour was an old Punjabi lady...

the wife asked the neighbour for a doctor to see to the injured husband...

a Parsi ‘Bone-Setter’ was promptly summoned...

the husband still recalls his anxiety of seeing ‘Bone-Setter’ written on the Parsi gentleman’s bag...

by the way, the ‘Bone-Setter’ worked his ancient craft and surprisingly for the husband, his broken leg healed quite soon...

but still on that day, while the ‘Bone-Setter’ was seeing to the husband...

the wife and the old Punjabi lady from next door got to talking about this and that and where these new Indian-looking wife and husband were from as their accents were clearly not local...

the wife told the elderly Punjabi lady that the husband worked for the African National Congress of South Africa and had left to serve the ANC from exile...

and that they had left their two children behind in South Africa and that they were now essentially political refugees...

the Punjabi lady broke down and wept uncontrollably...

she told the foreign woman that she too had had to leave her home in Lahore in 1947 and flee to India with only the clothes on her back when the partition of the subcontinent took place and Pakistan was formed and at a time when Hindus from Pakistan fled to India and vice versa...

the Punjabi lady then asked the foreign woman her name...

‘Zubeida’, but you can call me ‘Zubie’...

the Punjabi woman hugged Zubie some more, and the two women, seperated by age and geography, wept, sharing a shared pain...

the Punjabi woman told Zubie that she was her ‘sister’ from that day on, and that she felt that pain of exile and forced migration and what being a refugee felt like...

Zubie and her husband Mosie became the closest of friends with the Hindu Punjabi neighbours who were kicked out of Pakistan by Muslims...

then came the time for Mosie and Zubie to leave for Delhi where the African National Congress office was based...

the elderly Punjabi lady and Mosie and Zubie said their goodbyes...

a year or two later, the elderly Punjabi lady’s daughter Lata married Ravi Sethi and the couple moved to Delhi...

the elderly Punjabi lady called Zubie and told her that her daughter was coming to Delhi to live and that she had told Lata, her daughter that she had a ‘sister’ in Delhi...

Lata and Ravi Sethi then moved to Delhi...

This was in the mid-1970’s...

Lata and Zubie became the closest of friends and that bond stayed true, and stays true till today, though Zubie is no more, and the elderly Punjabi lady is no more...

the son and the husband still have a bond with Lata and Ravi Sethi...

a bond that was forged between Hindu and Muslim and between two continents across the barriers of creed and time...

a bond strong and resilient, forged by the pain and trauma of a shared experience...

and that is why, and I shall never stop believing this, that hope shines still, for with all the talk of this and of that, and of that and of this, there will always be a simple woman, somewhere, anywhere, who would take the ‘other’ in as a sister, a fellow human...

and that is why there will always be hope...
hope in the midst of this and of that and of that and of this...

hope...


(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)


Details | Free verse | |

Sleigh Ride Memories

Pushing back the snow,
the barn door slowly opens
against the drifts.

Inside smells are rich and warm.
Hay and straw and animals mix 
sparking memories of a long ago stable. 

The tarp is heavy,
but uncovers a shiny red sleigh.
Runners honed to a keen shushing edge.

Sounding of hooves on wooden floor
Snorting his readiness to go.
Harness tight, bells in place

Isinglass heater under a buffalo robe,
cuddling close,
let’s go!

We disappeared into plumes of snow off galloping hooves,
with mane flying in the breath of nostrils flaring.

Sleigh bells singing their song in rhythm of  beating hooves, 
crisp air and joyful hearts cuddle under robes of excitement

racing, racing

Caps pulled down over ears,
cheeks chapping, hands clasping, 
hearts racing,

faster ... faster ...  faster ...


Details | Free verse | |

Like a thief in the night -Thinking of September 11th

Another morning I got up and my thoughts returned here. Just wanted to put something of
the memory that lingers still today from scenes we saw of September 11th.  Scenes we would
like to but will never and should never forget.  I do not wish to cause further despair to
anyone but if anything bring some hope to those who are suffering safe in the knowledge
that they have the world behind them.  What has happened cannot be undone but with
strength and assistance from those who had the core torn from them as the horrors unfolded
and they watched on in disbelief we can be there for one another.  We can make sure the
memory of this tragic affair lives on, and in doing so help keep our own souls alive and
kicking... in hope all was not in vain, but that we shall learn from it and let the
promise of peace win through.  My heart and thoughts go out to all.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It doesn't matter today
if we build a building of immense height
like North and South towers of World Trade Centre
even if to use as defence system
just as we would have built a castle on a hill
in times gone by - times have changed
New buildings and memorials will now stand
in recognition of who/what was on said land
Their memories will always continue
as will the vision on t.v. all did view
Where minds stood still in disbelief
while strike after strike we all felt grief
Where tears were shed by billions of eyes
War was declared with no defence in skies

It doesn't matter today
we most probably wouldn't even see
as our enemies approached
Like a thief in the night they came
stealing from us that most precious
those whom we loved or cared about

What matters today
is that for all eternity history has been made
Times we cannot change
Broken genealogical lines gone forever
Marks made on the landscape - irreplaceable
Never can anything stand for what was again
Humanity and psychological effect remains
We may not all have lost those known to us
but we stand together shoulder to shoulder
Encircling those that remain
Knowing each one of us had our soul torn
Our eyes darkened by Hells darkest Angels
When none could believe that before their eyes
Planes came crashing through the skies

Out of ashes a phoenix, a nation arises
and with it the world reawakens
We will not sleep but remember
A tragic time when so high a cost was paid
with unknowing souls now recognised
What right to take such brave innocent lives


Details | Free verse | |

Summer

The ceiling fan turns
seemingly without purpose,
sending a slight ripple of
shivers into the still air.

The porch isn't any cooler.
Tears of sweat make their way down
a slender glass of iced tea,
drinking up smaller beads,
becoming a rivulet as gravity brings
it more quickly into the pool
around the bottom of the glass.

A rivulet of sweat
makes its way down her chest
sending a tickle
as it finds its way between her breasts.

A sip of tea
cools her throat as it
makes its way down to
cool the soul of summer.


Details | Sijo | |

Living in Today

We turned a knob, and ventured back, into the place, we dwelled Standing here, within these walls, ..a cottage small, accrued travails ago But clearly see that all is well, ...all is well, ...we need not come again
___________________________ In honor of Deb's contest: "Trinity"


Details | Rhyme | |

The Park -- Part One

Pigeons flutter in the park
eating refuse from the grass.
Noon comes; the hours pass.
Leaves fall; the sky grows dark.
Silence reigns throughout the park.
A crumpled headline, a forgotten toy,
lifeless, do not hear a far-off bark.
In the park, not a single little boy.
Midnight comes; the hours go --
soon, the sky begins to glow...
morning breaks, and with it, sound.
In the park begins the morning round.
White skeletons of benches -- slats --
in all the wintry parks of Age
fill up in morning. Deserted flats,
each with the aspect of a cage,
become an unused, waiting gauge
that measures dull and wasted years --
floods of loneliness -- rivers of fears...
The weak and battered, pallid crowd
which, daily, parks ingest
speak in muted tones; but loud
is the message all suggest.
The clangor of the beaten Belles,
trampled in the slime of years,
entreats the mind to plug its ears;
yet, if it will, it hears...
memories, perhaps, keep active still
the shriveled and the loosened flaps
that are the mouths of all the Bills --
reduced to gray and ugly gaps...
Down the graveled pathways come
children bent on carefree play.
Belles, though silent, are not dumb,
nor will the Bills forego their say.
But warnings fall on ears too deaf;
around are eyes too blind to see.
And so the tots, too young for Death,
play on and on till time for tea.
Day after day after day
children come and children play.
Pigeons flutter in the park;
Leaves fall; the sky grows dark.
Once more, deep silence claims the park.
Midnight hours come and go.
The sky again assumes a glow.
Wind stirs dead leaves to rustle.
Starts again the aimless bustle
of the battered, weak, and infirm-eyed:
those whom living failed -- who died
but still must play their signal role
of unloved, friendless, unhailed Old;
who gather daily in the park
to envy tots their vital spark --
the hope, the promise in their eyes --
before it fades, before it dies.
But tots at play -- the young, the bold --
must laugh and sing -- cannot be told
that youth's not long and Time is cold.
Time devours -- a ravenous beast --
and men are the courses at his feast.
Some he swallows in their prime,
 On some he waits too long a time:
 these rancid morsels, Time's midnight snack,
explore their memories. They hie them back
 to that old moment, deepest black, 
when they first dared to know -- and first said --
that Time's the master all men dread.
(Please read The Park -- Part Two, which is a continuation of
this poem...due to space limitations)


Details | Pantoum | |

Summer Memories From The Tree of Life

Summer season was  my childhood’s  greatest fun  time,
We played with toys out of a coconut tree which is a tree of life,
We  built  little houses beautifully and so high as we climbed
Like a flying trapeze  on its leaves,  we swung so high.

We played with toys made of coconut trees, the tree of life,
My playmates joined me in building  little houses using a dull knife,
Out of its leaves and midribs, we made walls, roofs and doors,
Pretended as good cooks with its coconut shells  and fruits.

My playmates joined  me in building little houses using a dull knife
Pretended  to live together as families with husband and wife,
I took the role of an elder sister in our little comfortable house
I combed the hair of a younger sibling with a coco midrib brush.

Pretended to live together as families with a husband and wife
Just like small neighborhood or community along the riverside
We chose one of the eldest playmates to be the group captain,
The leader of  unity and cooperation in building more tents.

Just like small neighborhood or community along the riverside
We helped one another as piles of coco leaves we made as rides,
We made unique toys out of leaves and roots as much as we could
Like trumpets when blown, we covered our ears for its loud sound.

We helped one another as piles of coco leaves we made as a ride
We webbed balls, insects and other toys for a surprise to hide,
When the captain signaled to show who's the most  had a reward
Then ran with our wind vanes to the beach and marched forward.

We webbed  balls, insects and other toys for a surprise to hide
We played with toys out of a coconut tree which is a tree of life,
When the captain signaled us to show  the most  had a reward
A wonderful  summer  memory  from a Tree of Life I've ever had!


Sept. 11,2012

Note: The coconut trees are considered the “Trees of Life”. They can provide almost all the things we need like shelter, clothing, foods and others. So, let us preserve coconut trees! They are very helpful but be careful because they are also  risky during typhoons, LOL.   There are many coconut trees in our backyard especially along the riverside connecting to the beach. These trees had added so much joy on summer time during my  childhood years/graders.


Details | Pantoum | |

Bronze, Silver and Gold

 
Bronze, silver and gold Caught in the sun so light The momentous reveal of every fight Wishes we are never told Caught in the sun so light Bronze faces contrite Wishes we are never told Faces much too bold Bronze faces contrite Compared to crinkled green notes Wishes we are never told Survival’s fight Compared to crinkled green notes The momentous reveal of every fight Survival’s fight Bronze, silver and gold


Details | Free verse | |

More Snippets

I. Bleeding -- a world without comfort -- lost without love -- no destination... silently walk without touching wounds... where is love? II. Frail fingers grope... sodden afternoons... winter fog... through gray eternity -- cold eyes, delicious mouth. Found love will laugh, desire returning. III. Making love, we deceived ourselves. Complicitors, we lied. Compliant pawns, we defied danger, practiced brilliant fabrication -- but truth was stranger. IV. Others know desire: ever changing years -- and lifetimes -- reaching towards the moon. Love, be my way.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Bully Part 1

The Bully

27 Years ago, you showed me the door,
Because I wouldn’t do what you wanted anymore.
That day was the worst of my life,
I wanted to die, to escape the strife.
All I needed was a simple letter,
To give me a chance to get better.
Now when I look back and see, you certainly did
 me a favour that day.
In 1986 Thursday the first of May.
From then on people listened to what I had to say,
Doctors and Nurses went out or their way,
I got the treatment I needed at last,
Bit by bit they went over the past.
One whole year is all it took,
A lot of hard work, a little luck.
To this very day I have never been back,
26 whole years and that’s a fact.
The last few years have been the best of my life,
Truly content being a Mother and Wife.
And Nanny as well,
Must not let my head swell,
A collection of poems all written by me..
My story in 7 magazines for the whole world to see.
A whole new extension to the house designed by me.
Also having to cope with the death of my mother,
Then four months later the death of my mother’s sister,
God not another.
Having my kitchen demolished completely,
did put me in a fix.
But being so well, even that couldn’t knock me for six.
So remember the next time someone begs you for a letter,
At least give THEM, the chance to get better.
For as long as I live I will never for get that terrible day,
Thursday 1986 the first of May,
The day that you showed me the door,
Just because I wouldn’t do what you wanted anymore.
They say that time heals all pain,

I’m lucky I’ve learnt to live again.







Details | Ballad | |

Star-Gazed Nostalgia

Lets climb up that old tree, 
make the clouds disappear. 
Let’s climb up that old, lemon colored tree, 
make the rain clouds disappear.

Rough wood, and a rickety ladder,
White christmas lights trim the slumping roof
over a few branches 
and we're crawling-
through the doors 
of a star-gazing tree house
 full of nostalgia. 

Sounds of traffic, cross walk conversations 
Trotting past that old jazz bar, 
a mexican family arguing on the stoops, 
funny how an unknown language 
can still make sense on the inside.
the mother gestures her son upstairs to sleep, 

But my world’s only waking. 
There’s a party up ahead. 
and there’s something ‘bout the nights’ breeze
blowing off the cars and into the trees. 
its Got my heart singing about this new love I’ve found.


Details | Blank verse | |

REMEMBERING

REMEMBERING 

Age sedates the imperfections of youth
excuses passions and
accommodates inexperience
Yet we heap glory on the culture
of their newly discovered experiments.  
Often we tremble to see them go astray
biting away at civilized norms.
But when they reflect our dreams
of hedonistic excesses we smile
and wonder how to recapture the fire
that now simmers; a burnt out ember 
of a flaming heart.

C.A.K. 10-1-2012


Details | Senryu | |

' Do The Math ... ' ( 35th Senryu )

‘Do The Math … ’      35th   Senryu

          Defeating Censure
   Thru All My Years of Tenure
       Tells You … ‘ Go Figure ! ‘


Details | Ghazal | |

How to love

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


Details | Free verse | |

Thinking Of You

I remember happiness,
No more,
No less,
Only true love.

I imagined,
You beside me...

I remember your eyes,
I remember your lips,
I feel your love,
I know your life...


Details | Ballade | |

Christian Cross

Head hung low, I walk the street-
Timid to feel the hangman's loss-
Every step on my blistered feet-
Takes me closer to, the Christian cross-
With every second, my soul does exhaust-
Heat-ridden cheeks from tears I cry-
Hide my eyes my shame is discreet-
Explain to me God, why must I die?

You say the hunger game I did cheat-
I see on that hangman's rope your hands across-
How close I was to starvation beat-
Why must  I die for naught but sauce-
On bread instead of my usual moss-
I hope you see my little child cry-
Although to you unjust is a treat-
Hold him God on the day he will die-

With my head hung low, I walk the street-
My family will feel the hangman;s loss-
No more will I walk upon these blistered feet-
Family go, live your life by the Christian Cross-
For my soul is tired, don't let your life exhaust-
My dear sweet loved ones there is no need to cry-
No more reason for you to stand all so discreet-
I am happy at last, on the day that I die-

I will live the rest of my life upon a Christian's Cross-
These murderers relax themselves on their own lie-
In a few short moments I won't feel anymore loss-
I will lift up my head and all so proudly I will die-


Details | Free verse | |

The path taken ...

The path taken ...
                           Authored by Chuck Keys


One day I'll go for a walk and forget to come home
and lose myself among the trees and the gnomes.

I'll be dressed in my walking shorts, shoes and socks
ready to face the unknown world and all of its locks

alone and free, seasoned with age beyond my years afloat
unbridled from people and places and ready to emote.

The path will go straight and sideways, straight and backways
and bend to the left to secret hide-a-ways.

I'll be dressed in my walking shorts, shoes and socks
ready to face the unknown world and all of its locks

Lose myself I will, on purpose with forethought and glee
because that is what makes me, me.


Details | Light Poetry | |

When I grow old

I will grow old
I tremble in the cold
None to care
I have nothing to fear...

But my love is alive
Though I strive
Beautiful roses to pluck
Yet I am stuck..

I grow old with wrinkle
Yet I will kinker
You will always remain in my mind
This is how you will find...


Details | Canzone | |

The Naked Truth

The stories I could tell and having told
of trials which would led thee upon a well worn path
within the skin and to the core the soul
through torrid memories of the long lost past.

I'd speak of Joseph whose passions prompted bliss
of kisses deep within this form of Eve 
of baths with gentle hands, where my soul heaved 
as fingers traced each mounds earthy contrast.

 And so that, days pleasures not bow to nights repasts
I'd share with you a tale of sun baths in rye fields
laying au naturel in hip high grass, as caution yields 
to tender taunting's upon an oh so, rigid mast.

Truly, I'd say for bold I am, and never cold,
the naked truth should never be, left undersold.  




Details | Blank verse | |

Gentle Ripples Passing - Lake Kariba

Water lapping at edge of the boat beneath the silence of the sky
Swaying branches of mopane trees and fish eagles cry
Wind of changing seasons and melting palates of hue
in the blood red sunset glow and murky silvery water blue

Elephants in numbers dot the shores
hippo’s and crocodiles are at the core 
of many memories and visions of old 
Lake Kariba, in land sea 
full of tiger fish and bream

The endless blue that roles into the distance
where the sun rises and falls in panoramic vista
The skeletons of petrified monuments scattered in the sea
forests of pre historic trees swaying in the breeze

It wasn’t always peaceful, tranquil, and still
nature has no chance to relax and withdraw
Scheming and dreaming in the depths of men’s mind

Up Up Up goes the building and climbs
Man made dam, Damn big problem
How could this feet of engineering the power of ages old be so easy
to tame such a wild beast as the zambezi

POURING OUT THE CONCERT 
RAMMING THE RODS OF STEEL
DRIVING THE WATER BACK INTO THE HILLS 

HOWEVER, THE RIVER REFUSED TO YEILD
THE WALL BEGAN TO TIP, BUCKLE, AND KEEL
NOT ONCE, TWICE, WATER MARCHED THROUGH
LIKE A FACELESS WARRIORS, DESTROYING THE BARRIER 
THE FORCE OF THE RIVER WOULD NOT BE SUBDUED 

LIKE ALL NATURAL EVENTS, THE WAVES BEGAN TO SUBSIDE 
THE SOLDIERS OF BLUE WITHDREW
UP WENT THE WALL, COMPLETED, IT WAS ONLY A MATTER OF TIME

Animals and people lost in the rising tide
from river, to dam, to lake to inland sea
Great and panoramic became the horizon wide

Like a whisper on the edge of wind 
was a grand concert of ages gone by 
Played out by wildlife, land, water, and sky

A harmonic existence of sublime serenity
Life here brings closure to one’s perspective
the sent of dust and adventure is quiet infective 

The place of the skeleton trees, mountain passes, and copper sun still
where the stars in the universe, scatterings like lost thoughts, visions, and chants chill
across the forging path, that strides through this african wilderness blue
Lake Kariba, the artery of the north, run straight, run true.


 


Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: V

Omniscient guy
Yet he lets bad things happen
How can he exist?


Details | Rhyme | |

A Homeless Man's Christmas Wish

Christmas day is coming soon
I can hear the little drummer boys beat 
As I sleep under a stack of newspapers
At my home here on the street
I have no shade from the summer heat
No shelter from a spring storm
When autumn and winter roll around
I have no blanket to keep me warm
I have no one to talk to 
No doctor to keep me well
My life is like the seventh circle
Of an everlasting hell
I have no feast on Thanksgiving
On my birthday, I have no cake
Most nights as I sleep in my concrete bed
I pray and hope I won't wake
I think about the man I used to be
The one that died so long ago
Now all that's left is this scruffy, filthy creature
Who I don't even know
Now that Christmas is here again
I pray to the good Lord above
For a gift that most don't appreciate 
Filled with lots of happiness and love
I'm not talking about material things
I can get by without any of that
All I want is a house and a family
Complete with a dog and  a cat
I wish every single Christmas season
That my dear, sweet Lord would send me
A beautiful family with warm, smiling faces
Sipping hot chocolate around a Christmas tree
We would have a most amazing feast
A rack of lamb tied up with a bow
Then we would all get bundled up
And go caroling in the snow
Oh, how glorious that would be
To have a family and a few friends
To have people who love me
Even after this life ends
God please hear my prayers
And answer them if you can
Just grant one simple Christmas wish
To this old homeless man


Details | I do not know? | |

There are no tears.

There are no tears,
Cause I held them back,
There is no fear,
Cause all my fears came true

I believe there’s hope
I have to believe there’s hope
Cause losing faith in the future and 
What can be when the bird spreads its wings

What can I do if she doesn’t have any faith in me?
What can I do, if everything feels like it doesn’t matter?
I’m trying but it might be not enough
I have being called a traitor

The person I love called me a traitor and I am not
I am not, that thing that I fear.
I don’t wanna die alone
I don’t wanna die like this, cause she doesn’t believe in me.

She set a sentence,
Cause in a dream she saw how I will be just a shell of myself.
But now I’m just a shell of myself.
Just a little part of happiness filters throu the curtains of my disdain and all goes away.

There’s no beam of happiness,
There’s no sunshine of love,
There’s no love for me,
She doesn’t love me anymore.

She who I love doesn’t trust me anymore
And I in a corner I lie alone
This corner of my own creation is not just imagination.
Here I lie and I just desire the best for you, the best for all the good people I’ve met and 
who’s lives I’ve made a miserable mess, I deliver my apologies to all those who believe I 
hate them or I have being a bad person to.

~Anna


Details | Light Poetry | |

Butterfly

I once was like a catipiller young,naive,and new
Always living from my heart not knowing what
else to do.Easy to take advantage of, that is 
just the case, people would walk over me
like I was their dirty used up suitcase.
Now I feel a newness coming, like a light
shining from the sky, colors fill my world
and I know I am blooming into a butterfly.
Purple,Pink, Blue and Green I can feel them
flowing through. Colors of the rainbow raising
me into full bloom. Wise and strong I am becoming
My faith leads me where I need to go giving me
insight and wiseness for only me to know.
I have not  done this on my own you see
I have been guided by God and Angels
on this Earth. Wise words the wisdom at
it's best comes from a wise lady who
seems to know me best. Lucky, I am 
to have her in my life, she always shoots
it straight and tells me like it is, knowing
her words touch my heart and gives me tons of faith..
I feel like flying through the sky or climbing 
a tree way up high. I feel like observing the 
world just like a brand new butterfly so as I
Bloom I become Anew something unlike the past
Smart and wise beautiful on the inside and outside 
 a touch of color here a touch of color there
makes me glow and become a beautiful blooming butterfly...


Written By: Christina A McCullouch 
04/09/2013


Details | Senryu | |

SILHOUETTES in SUNSET of LIFE

To be young again.

                             Bit of a stretch, like my skin

                                                                          at sixty seven!




*For Sunset Silouettes contest


Details | Etheree | |

Just Down the Road

It
was but
a dirt lane.
Berry bushes
skirted it. Beyond
were grandpa’s fields of grain.
Just down the road was the barn
and framed yellow house with white fence -
home to my mom’s parents, now dead, like
memories that too soon will be buried.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

MOTHER TONGUE

We had a steel-coiled fence 
that kept us apart;  kept in purity,
spoke out in purity.

We played Barbies in a tree that
bordered each side, not knowing
it had a
zone.

Our Barbie world was created; 
dresses hung on branches
little mirrors for wee doll hands;
leaves assigned our closets.

I gibbered and you jabbered, and
the worst thing happened, I learnt
English, but what happened to your
French?

Language traveled through the holes
of our steel-coiled fence.


Details | Lyric | |

To My Foster Parents With Love

I came into your lives a lost and lonely child,
Full of anger and resentment,
Overwhelmed with fear and confusion.
Yet you took me into your home, your lives, and your hearts.
From the very beginning you tried to make me feel welcome and wanted.
Though I fought you each step of the way you never gave up on me.
Instead you patiently and lovingly took me under your wings,
protecting, guiding and shaping me.
Showing me love and understanding.
Giving freely and openly the praise and affection I so desperately needed.
All the while expecting nothing in return.

As days turned into years you were still there
Making me feel safe and secure,
treating me with respect and fairness,
pushing me to be the best I could be.
And still, there I was fighting you.
Oh, the pain and heartaches you endured at my hands.
Yet there you stood, firm and unwavering.
Never walking away, never giving up.
Always loving me no matter what the cost.

All these years later as I look at my own children
I realize just what you saw and still see when you look at me.
Your Daughter!

I love you.


Details | Free verse | |

Conspiracy: Who Killed The Easter Bunny

A crowded table, all suspended in shock 
The sound of the shot dimming to a ‘knock’
Only silence, except for the marching clock
The weapon still smoking; an anonymous glock
WHO KILLED THE EASTER BUNNY?

Loud cries arise from the elongated table,
Jack Frost is shocked, the Tooth Fairy unable
To speak whilst Santa is checking the stable
For clues on the erstwhile maidservant Mable
WHO KILLED THE EASTER BUNNY?

They searched for hours, called in C.S.I,
Panic set in, would the children all cry?
Sandman confirmed the bunny had died
Batman suspected somebody had lied
WHO KILLED THE EASTER BUNNY?

Guests were quizzed, interrogations began
The mystery unfolded when Santa Claus ran,
Grabbing the pies, he tried escaping in a van
But was stopped in his tracks by superman
SANTA KILLED THE EASTER BUNNY!


Details | Free verse | |

Mailman

 
In my day, the mail carrier was called the Mailman.
However, I don't recall any women choosing the profession.
He came to our house twice a day.
Once in the morning,
And once in the afternoon.
 
Time went slower then
and he had time.
He could deliver the mail
and talk to us kids a while too.
 
Once when he came by
we were playing mumbly-peg.
He asked what we were doing
and we showed him.
 
He got out his own knife
Balanced it on his finger
and ka chunk, it stuck expertly the first time.
His blade stuck in the ground every time.
 
Mine came a little too close to my toes
but stuck. He complimented the risky landing
then folded up his knife and put it back
in the mail bag draped over his shoulder.
 
The leather, old and very worn 
gave way on the edge where he reached in
for the letter that needed to be delivered next door.
Leaning into the weight of the bag,
he was on his way.


Details | Couplet | |

Dear Rapunzel

It seems ages since we met over your long, golden hair
an hour glass on the table keeping the meter.

It seems like too many dress up doll days when we played
take me to the river but don’t get our feet wet.

It seems we lost our inner selves painting our faces
painting our nails, singing karaoke at the bars.

Oh, to regain those lost years of our youth, unwrinkled skin
turn back all the pages, like winding gold on a spindle.

Instead we have just leaves, grieves, and grandchildren
with their laser guns, plastic skin and smug attitudes.

They never challenged gamey little midgets with foul intent
they had us to pad them safely with money, love and scent.

Dear Rapunzel, do please let your hair down one more time
and play climb out of the cellar and up the apple tree with me.

Signed Your Dearest Play Mate.


Details | Limerick | |

Volleyball

  There was a time when I stood tall

             Especially in college, playing NCAA Volleyball.

   Oh, the trips we went on to the various meets

             Winning and losing in those much vaunted heats.

   We weren't great then, now I can't jump at all.


Details | Free verse | |

Chief Warrior Eagle

Brave Indian warrior
Sitting alone in the woods
In the soft glowing light
Of a low hanging moon
Shining on the mighty river

Brave Indian warrior
Playing the flute
The forest comes alive
Animals waking from slumber
To hear his melancholy tune

Brave Indian warrior
Deep in thought
The music lets him escape
Taking his mind of things
And focusing

Brave Indian warrior
Reflecting on the past
Thinking of all he did
All he could do
All he should have done

Brave Indian warrior
All alone now
Concentrating
Drifting away
Into exploration of the mind

~~Written By~Brittany Larson~
For Constance's contest ~"Tell His Story"


Details | Rhyme | |

SEEKING EVENING'S PEACE



As evening slips its frail chemise Old woman dwells on passing sprees To track hazed lifetime’s reveries; Entrusting stars for pain’s release.
Rhyme Battle: Round 2 Contest


Details | Free verse | |

Only in You

Through the lonely woods, I may head,

Upon the autumn leaves, I may tread,

At the secluded horizon, I may stare,

And only you, I may see,

In those symphonies of silence,

In those melodies of calmness,

In those euphonies of quietness.

 

By the silent lake, I may lay,

Till the twilight fades, I may stay,

Then in reclusive silence, I may walk,

And only to you, I may talk,

Through those toungueless emotions,

Through those wordless attachments,

Through those voiceless sentiments.

 

In the lone meadow, I may wander,

Along the untrodden paths, I may waver,

In companionless seclusion, I may hide,

And only in you, I may find,

The depths of oneness,

The bonds of togetherness,

The cozy feel of coalescence.

 

In the wilderness of emotions, I may die,

At the merciless daggering, I may sigh,

Through a million wounds, I may bleed,

And only in you, I may seek,

The balm of love,

The warmth of affection,

The heal of inseparability.


Details | I do not know? | |

WE ARE INDEPENDENCE!

We are Tausug Nation
Defending independence
Free from the enemies
Stood not to get oppressed

Our Nation ruled
Of the country’s independence
Never conquered from then
We shall develop our land

Our country, nation is known
Home of courageous person
Bound only in one faith
Never care of the death

Tumantangis, Dahu peaks of our land
To Bagsak, Sinumaan
And to all the mountains here
Only one God is aimed

Zamboanga, Basilan, North Borneo, Palawan
Centre is in Sulu land
Ruled by the Sultan
From the early point of time

Our nation is united
In the name of faith is complete
Only God is firm
Determined not to get conquered

Land of the pearl garden
Sulu Sea in the world is famous
From the South and North
And East and West

Blood of Martyrs flowed in the vein of the Sug Nation
Fought to defend
Flag rose like Vinta strip
Eternal pledge appeared


Details | Free verse | |

In his footsteps

On his shoulders 
he carried 
me,
when I tarried 
when young.
He’d huddle me close,
and tell me the stories
Of how he grew up.
The things that he loved to do most.

Correct me when wrong.
And punish when bad he’d
Protect me from harm,
And when ill -
He’d wrap me in blankets,
And nurse by my side,
Till one day I grew up
And rebelled.

In your footsteps 
You wanted
Me to have followed,
And done everything by your will.
But I’m my own person,
So listen to my side,
Are you in with me this time
Or still…?

Do you not answer?
Hear my pain call?
As I struggle to find my own way.
Is it time I departed?
Is it time that I learnt?
To have my own will
What d’you say?

Well I’m sorry 
You’re silent.
You’re so disappointed.
But I know that you feel
I am wrong.
I can’t take this no longer
I’m so full of anger.
To my misery
Is there no end?

Well I’m out!...
Do you hear me?...
Dont misunderstand me.
I’m grateful for what you have done.
But for now
I don’t know me.
I don’t know the answers.
I’ll pack up my things and be gone!

But then
you say to me
Just listen – child listen,
One day 
you will settle
You’ll see.
You’ll be married. 
With children.
Putting food on the table -
Working hard to bring in the dough
Then you’ll think of these words
Just follow my footsteps
That way you will
Come to no harm.

And the voice in your head
Will silently say -
I told you,
Was right all along.
I’m your father
I taught you to follow 
my footsteps;
To know what is right and
Whats wrong!


Details | Haiku | |

Haiku

a cricket in the eaves
harmonizes with
night rain
==================
old river benue
a fisherman's canoe
ladened for market
==================
graveyard's windy dust
sending papers and leaves high
every ones underground


Details | Than-Bauk | |

Feelings

The ultimate sensation and so pure, 
Skips a beat, uncontrollable, yet feels amazing,
Beating simultaneously - an intense magnetism


Details | I do not know? | |

The Master Mind of Numbers

Ever since I have stepped into modernization, I have been pinched with values of the ancestors,
I cannot believe that the inside does not reflect the outside anymore,
When one says he or she has changed and become open minded, 
Is it only to make one feel temporarily pleased or is just to enjoy hurting a person,
Why has age become a factor or an excuse to start a new problem?

Every time a heart skips a beat, the warm sensation takes place, a friendly chat takes place,
Numbers begin to swirl around. The intellectual chat, attraction of like minds,
Or even the rebellious differences stand in a corner against numbers.
Time flies and so does one progress with various experiences. 
Does it matter if you are too old or young to be with someone?

Who gets to judge about numbers?
Nothing occurs very young but takes place during adulthood with mature thinking. 
How should one deal when age becomes a problem to a new relationship?
More or less, does anyone have the right to judge if one is not married at a certain age.
With observation, reading various articles, numbers have created a nuisance in the mind of shallow thinkers in many societies.

When all the feelings are right, then why do numbers go wrong?
Doesn’t sensibility, love, responsibility or even security count or is it overshadowed with age.
Still one may try to let go and filter some thoughts, but how does one filter attraction and passion.
Years have passed by and still the jackpot of excuses concerning numbers have polluted various communities. A spark of hope is still there when faith and true love will attain blessings from the higher self and well-wishers always.


Details | Free verse | |

Last Bell.....

Man, I remember the thrumming of that last bell of the school year.....
Like a prisoner being furloughed into the warm sun, buzzing of grasshoppers.
Field stickers burrowing into your ankles, joyfully, while you take the wrong way/long way 
back.
The sound of whispering gold as your armplane wings dislodge future assaulters of ankles.
I always liked sighs in the summer.....those sweet drones were the tones of freedom.
In the distance you hear Shirley scream as Brad tells EVERYBODY she likes Ralph...
You knew you should be gettin' home, but, confound it, this one brief moment was yours. 
Eternal.
There was a sound, like a shell to the ear, of all you had learned, escaping as if under 
pressure.
To thwart it was to stop a tsunami with an umbrella.....ineffectual....unnoticed.
But, also vacant, was common sense; probably why I went Jake's way that day....
Oh, he was there, lurking...lying in wait for my almost clock-work arrival.
Many a day I had screamed a million insults at him as he chased me like Satan,
Hoping "today" wasn't the day he caught up with me.
His exhalations never sounded labored, as if he was letting me get ahead.....
But not today!!!!!.....I JUMP......He LUNGES......and his teeth gain purchase on my seat!!!!
However, I escape....My bottom, that much cooler than it was before and will probably be 
later!
........................
.........
.....
...
Home.......... you see mom in the kitchen, drinking sun tea and waiting for you to arrive....
"So, How was school?"..."Uh, fine, I guess."     "What did you learn today?"......."Uh, to never 
underestimate the value of Gym Class!!"......"Well," she says, "if you took home economics, 
you'd be able to fix up your pants before Dad gets home and sees your underwear!!"......

Parents NEVER respect an Adventurer's near-fatal exploits!!!


Details | Free verse | |

like diamonds


two hits and i’m hanging off cliffs, listening to water

drip.

watching moss fall like snowflakes.

nothing holding my heels down but gravity, irrelevant to me.

the little girl exploring the ocean floor, the caves that once held entrancing treasures.

even tactile pain drives me into a gust of euphoria.

my heart beats (slower than it should), but the trees don’t mind.

the four shades of green blend to create a forest-

with each exhale, branches move in tandem.

and a salty tear falls from my eye,

reminiscent of what once was here.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Be Still

And the westerly wind,
Will blow a sea of waving grass
And the sea's fine mist 
Will breathe drops like dew
And the sinking suns
Will cloak the sky's horizon
And the moons of Autumn
Will beckon the golden fertililty of the harvest
And the violet tinged edge of night
Will cry for the white bursting of the stars
And the carved thrust of the mountain range
Will challenge the forever yielding blue
And the hovering tunes of the dawn's awakening
Will mimic the lullaby of my dreams
Rise


Details | Rhyme | |

Reverie

(Another old, childhood poem.)

Do you remember the old water well,
constructed of wood, stone, shingles, and clay?
It still stands in the dell --
old, decrepit, and gray.
Bordered by flowers of varying hues,
it serves as an altar to a lonely recluse.
The old water well where once we did meet
lies crumbling in dust, a hermit's retreat.


Details | Free verse | |

new aquatic species

       Science in all fascination has discovered a species aquatic 

  Theorizing this new yet old species remained hidden as Merman  

  only to live in secret at the oceans floor the mermaid a tribe indigenous 

  once said to be myth yet all proof and technology film does not lie 

  Tsunamis has given the ocean a true glance of the man with webbed hands

  The species communes with dolphins will be under a microscope to analyze  ?


    " The World is not ready to see what I have "  Jacques Cousteau ~


         to be entered in The Science contest ~


Details | Verse | |

MY PEN'S JOURNEY

My poor pen, spill its ink on a white sheet of paper in form of the thoughts that leak from a 
desperate mind. A mind that desperately tries to express to the sheet of paper what other 
distracted minds could not remember, what a wounded heart could not feel, and what teary 
eyes refused to see.

My poor pen, sad and distracted thinks that his ink will end just like good times do. It kills 
him that with time the written words will become too heavy for the sheet of paper to hold. 
And, little by little the words and thoughts will seep through the holes that the years and 
wise bookworms will leave behind on what will no longer be a white sheet of paper.

 
While the mind, desperately looks for the forgotten feelings, my pen rests in the hands of 
the poet. Bravely accepting that it is slowly losing its ink like a young old man loses his 
memory. 

At time, it feels used, alone, sad, and feels as if it was nothing but a witness to the despair of 
a lonely mind that takes refuge on a piece of paper.


Details | Free verse | |

Ice Rains

Why I am thinking of my father
on the topic of white snows
perhaps because he seemed almost Hispanic
in his youth, tanned, dark hair and eyes
but whiteness shone the day
he came home early
worry caught my breath in chest
and only in the morning
did the firemen come, taking him away.

Such heart spasms, clench us all,
yet snow falls so softly, unexpected
and ice rains even less noticed
they drip, drip, coating the roads
and only when we step too fast
skews our vehicle, ends us in ditch
new babies without parents,
stitches in our heads. 
The drips spire down the icicles,

coat the roses as buds, never to open,
and yet, sometimes, I wish to be inside
tasting the ice cold water like fire
turning blue to the ends of my limbs
in sleepiness, and setting ablaze 
my very soul, like a light, shine out as call
here, with me, all the memories
a blanket of witness to eternity
dripping into us experience’s minerals.

Who could do magic with a wand
headed with all of life’s power to hold?
Who could accept magic in waves
like the falling of snow, or wonder
that we escaped from death,
that we saw roses, saw the spirals
climb down from the sky as raindrops
and drip, drip, into our thoughts
all that began as white and ended.


Details | Blank verse | |

The Beach

Sun kissed sand, Waves crashing, Seagulls laughing The Beach Feel the heat dancing on your skin, Filtering through you, Penetrating your skin The Beach A contradiction between your senses The cool, cold water lapping you Surrounding you, Taking you in with every crashing wave The Beach There is an island beyond the horizon The clear, blue sea surrounding it The grainy sand behind you Clinging on to you The Beach Close your eyes Let the heat penetrate you, The water envelope you Because slowly Slowly, It’s time to leave


Details | Free verse | |

Happy Birthday

We were on the road
the road that ended somewhere
something flew right into my eyes
I closed my eyes for a while
but then you were gone
we could have made it
to the end where our dreams
were waiting for us,
but then they were shattered into pieces
somehow you changed,
those pieces were not small enough for you
then you broke them into even smaller pieces
and still all those broken pieces
if it were to be re arranged would
have your name on it
we had our share of fun, laughter
and great memories, that will
walk with me to my deathbed
but now its too late to be reminded it
everyday,
your face with a stranger
everyday on the electronic screen
I'm still the same way you left me some
four years ago,
and you're not the same person that you were
things have changed,
they've been rearranged
nothing looks familiar anymore
specially you
but I still cannot forget those times
and even though I hate you for what you did
how could I forget this day
even if those memories in your head
lay there alone to rust
Happy Birthday to you, old friend
and Happy birthday to us!


Details | Rhyme | |

In a Heartbeat

I drove down to Virginia to a place I was before
Stared out at the horizon, waves crashing against the shore
And dreamed of days long past 
Wishing I could sail once more
Feel the salty breeze against my face
Not knowing what I was looking for
The dreams I carry in my heart, they help me feel whole
Remembering nights out on the ocean just tear apart my soul
A voice called Sailor, come on home
To the life that you once knew
Set your sails, get underway
For a sea of Caribbean blue
I close my eyes, dream again, and my knees they feel weak
Taste the salt in the air as the tears roll down my cheek
In a heartbeat I would sail those waters standing on the bow
Bridges burnt so long ago, too late to rebuild them now
The sun sinking on the horizon, it is the end of day
The peaceful scene brings back the urge
To pack up and sail away
As I turn to leave, a few miles out, a white dog passes by
Sea gulls flying overhead, I stop and wonder why
It's 6PM, I walk away as I hear the four bells chime
Tonight I'll dream peaceful dreams of another place, another time.


Details | Ode | |

Ode to a friend

Socially retarded and somewhat aloof I never knew what a true friendship was.
Not knowing how to play well with others growing into a young man.
I was 18 years old, washing dishes in that Chinese Restaurant, House of Lypan.
A dude came along, pretty tall and good looking as the girls gave chase.
Giggling and fluttering their eyes, I always wished to be as cool as you, just a taste. 
Then one day, on a visit to see the girls; you stopped in my presence and said, 
“I want to hang with you! What time do you get off work?”
I was baffled, befuddled and a little standoffish,
 for no one ever talked to me, unless to get dishes.
As I remember those many Friday nights, 
beers and tacos, everything was going to be all right.
 Lyrics of Rush and Journey, you knew every word, singing along in your V.W. bug 
like a bird. 
By summer’s end of that infamous summer, a genuine friend I had found; 
but alas, it was over what a bummer. 
I moved away, but came back that fall, our friendship flourished once more.
But as most friendships do, our ways dearly departed. Many years would pass until 
we’d cross each other’s lives again.
This chance quite by fortune, as you knocked on my door one New Year’s Eve’ it 
was ’95 I believe.
That night was a big one; deciding to end this journey called life, too much pain for 
this young man to carry; 
Two kinds of ‘candy’ to help ease the transition
 from mortal to death; a bottle of Jack, for some extra kick.
 I had a loaded 45 gun to help do the deed.
Then came your knock, was about 2 minutes to ‘celebration time’ for they 
say ‘midnight is the bewitching hour.”
I thought to myself, ‘who could this be?’ for I had no more friends, no career or 
family. And yet as if an Angel, you were knocking on my door! I hid what I had, 
ashamed and not wanting a friend to know how much pain I was in. I opened the 
door to those familiar words, ““I want to hang with you! What time you get off 
work?” I remember thinking, "how long has been since I grinned?"
If just for one moment, when you stand before God, all your sins are erased, and a 
moment of cause 
as God says with a Joyous loud voice…”Wait a minute Rick, what’s this? Well I’ll be, 
you’re better than most I can clearly see. I was just perusing over your life, you 
didn’t mention this… but you saved a life!” 
“Ah shucks it was nothin’, just a friend being a friend...I’m sure he’d of done the 
same, if the tables were turned.” And that is why I will and have always called you 
friend….


Details | Free verse | |

One Day

An unlikely couple
with that rare happiness you only see in movies


her hand is cupped in his lovingly
and his smile is so genuine it could outshine a full moon

their conversation is held strictly in their blissful gazes
but what they say is obvious

for them there is no other existence
no other life but the other

and even as they grow old
gracefully, with now wrinkled smiles

there is no couple like them
as if he were Adam, and she Eve

I watch them daily
with hope of a love only to be compared
by the difference between the heat of a steaming cup of joe
and a glass of ice water dripping with condensation

to have bliss like them
I would...No, I will be complete

One Day


Details | Sonnet | |

Broken Wind Chimes

Dangling from the tree I can see,
Broken wind chimes that still sing.
They just hang on by a split string.
Sending a harmony of tunes to thee.
 
Their tones and vibrations are a bit broken for me.
I listen and I ponder for what tunes they can bring.
From the tree they will sway when they can swing.
Bits and pieces are released through the air and flee.
 
Caught in the wind is it’s vibrations.
Carrying signals of great magnitude.
Funneling clouds into new creations.
Bringing air into a brand new mood.
 
Broken wind chimes can still sing a song,
But their messages are scattered all along.
 
© Copyright: Ann Rich 2007


Details | Lyric | |

TO PAPA -Through the eyes of his little girl

Through the eyes of this little girl, to her Papa, no one could compare
Always dashing in grey and navy suits with a white shrt and burgundy tie
How she'd stare in awe, wide-eyed; her little face turn upward in gaze
With a deep, stern voice he corrected, yet, with soft eyes, and warm hugs he consoled
The world demands so much from a man and sometimes he was not perfect
His bane was his good looks and a kind and honest heart
During his younger years he struggled, yet his love for his family stayed true
He was proud man in many ways and kept his promise to God and his wife
Througout the years of struggle, he never left his queen in thirty-five years

"Papa", one of God's creations by special design-fire and ice-compassionate and kind, 
Those who dared to cross him learned a lesson everytime
Through extraordinary battles, some won and others lost 
Each challenge imposed, he rose and met-a remarkable feat!

Then came one day, with his final battle raging, in some world beyond our eyes
His body racked and worn with pain, Papa was sent home to say good bye
My "Papa" stood tall one last time- and chose life with his Creator!


Details | Limerick | |

A Distempered Horse

There once was a skinny horse name George.
Poor ole soul lived alone in a gorge.
Three fit sheep came his way.
They were traded that day.
Matted, bony, his belly engorged.  

Onward He forged, living on the brink.
I’ll save him, one young maiden did think.
Head hung; life was his game.
George, his infamous name.
She prayed; from his needs, she did not shrink.

George would not drink; lips were cracked and dry.
She asked God, “Please don’t let him die.”
Water was his kismet.
Sweet feed filled hope’s bucket.
She cut out mats; whisked away each fly.

Six months later, George was still alive.
Lips were moist; he ate; began to thrive.
With some flesh on his bones,
And relieved of his groans,
The day of her moving would arrive.

The time came when George had to be sold.
Half Arabian, not very old
Registration papers.
The old trader’s capers,
You promised them, the young girl cajoled.

How could he live; does he have luster?
Papers lost; no death by distemper.
Confessions on that day,
The girl went away.
Compassion to the horse did whisper.

New owners bought him, his health still poor.
His price and potential was the big lure.
They quickly changed his name.
Greener pastures, the game.
Star’s beauty became his life’s encore.

© June 7, 2011
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: A Horse Story 	 
Sponsored by: Carol Brown

(Based on a true story)


Details | Verse | |

TWENTYNET 1960s - aka The 1960s A Changing World

Women's liberation
Bras burned
Girls were confused…excited!
Gloria Steinem central figure,
Speaks out.
Women shout.
Politicians doubt.
Equal Rights!
New thinking.  New songs.  New vocabulary.
Debating: Equal jobs for equal pay.
Strong women.
Many followers.
Surprisingly, numerous men quit opening doors.
Woodstock proclaims, “Make love, not war!”
Many soldiers die; "Vietnam Conflict" rages.
Soldiers come home, their world, changed.
War heroes were ignored.
Women worked untraditional jobs.
Many prayed.
Many died.

© May 25, 2011
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest:  MAGIC OF DECADE'S MOOD 	
Sponsored by: nette onclaud


Details | Narrative | |

Dedication to Everyone

I feel that I have found a home in this cyberspace
with full of hearts and ideas in a special place
I wonder of all the people in the world to make me smile
with antics that help me grow in every mile
I do want to say to all of the people with respect
because of all of you my mind is not in a wreck
I would lie if I did not get ideas from all of you
without you my poems would not come true
I bless everyone with care 
with kindness and without dis-pare
I hold my hands high and put them together
with this I bless you with good weather
I do read some of the poems that people put out
sometimes I feel with out a doubt
I feel the pain in the poems that some has revealed
with hopes that they can read with their mind not sealed
I smile a bunch with every word
it is like a music in my head making a cord
I do want you all to know that you have made my day
to be a better day in every different array
I cherish my time with all the people in my heart
the words flow in my mind is just but a start
I'm happy with everyone in PoetrySoup.com 
with hardship that came this cyberspace makes me calm
I cannot choose five cause if I do I don't think it's right
just to tell you that is just my own insight
I thank all for helping me grow with all the poems that are shown
with faith and humor, with views of kindness this site has grown

If I had to say or dedicate my poems to who 
would be the first five who reads my poems with a point of view


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

The S Poem

Silken skies surround
Secure sailing sloop
Skimming Sargasso sea
Seeking salmon, sturgeon,
Shrimp, scallops;
Several savory species.
Suddenly stampeding storm
Surrounded, struck swiftly
Skies striking, slashing,
Savage surly seas.
Skipper sighted shoals,
Slammed, sending seamen
Swaying, scrambling, scurrying.
Swift southerly swells,
Sending struggling schooner
Smashed somewhere sandy shores.
Seamen survived swimming,
Suddenly savage screams,
Strange sensations, sounds
Seldom saw such sights,
Surrounding sassy Sasquatch.
Savagely slashed sailor,
Satisfyingly strange supper
Sasquatch slurping sailor soup,
Savory sauce, stew.


Details | Imagism | |

The Red Symphony

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

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

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

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


Details | Free verse | |

Boney Bonny Dames and Old Money Games


Until I've seen, Melbourne days
	was not just emptiness in play
I know I'll see
What I didn't see,
the September soaked symphony
	of Vivaldi vines climbing,
jacaranda booms,
tremolo spilling eaves

Until you know this suburban kid's righted the wrong
I'll verse on my way, you as the bridges in my song
Making choruses of dreams that could soon belong

And urban princes and their Porsches
Lost in winters, cold in summers
They adore to ornate you, over muskwood and glassy silvers
But can they look up to the night,
And know wonder in the sight?
In that blue-hued veiled Van Gogh I see your stars

These hardened hands carrying letters I send
	will wear me down to some sorry end
And this I know
But I'll go knowing
the Chapel charade was the pretty noise
	of sonnets chasing sunsets,
drunk Welsh poets
tearing tails for London wisps

Until it comes, a northern boy without southerly blues
The swaying Yarrans, sparkling flutes, Victorian flues
Keeps Flinders Station stepping full of over-priced shoes

And boney bonny dames, old money games
Skirts for winters, surgeons for gains
They climb to lower you, for fifteen lights upon their names 
But can they look up to the night,
And know wonder in the sight?
In that blue-hued veiled Van Gogh I see your stars


Details | I do not know? | |

The Nameless - for South Africans of all colours who fought for freedom


The Nameless


Slipping through the sieve of history,

the nameless rest.

Not for the nameless are roads renamed, nor monuments built.

Not for the nameless are songs sung, nor ink spilled.

The nameless rest.

Their silent sacrifice,

quiet ordeal,

muted trauma,

remain interred,

amongst their remains.

The nameless rest.

Not for the nameless are doctorates conferred, nor eulogies recited.

Not for the nameless are honours bestowed, nor homages directed.

The nameless rest.

They rest within us,

they walk with us,

in every step that we tread.

They rest within us,

they walk with us,

for their spirit is not dead.


“Your name is unknown, your deed is immortal”
- inscription at The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier WWII in Moscow


Special thanks to my dearest elder sister Tasneem Nobandla Moolla, whose conversations with me about life as a non-white person growing up in pre and post-Apartheid South Africa prompted me to write this dedication to the countless, nameless South Africans of every colour, whose sacrifices and dedication in the struggle against Apartheid tyranny must never be forgotten.


My sister’s middle name ‘Nobandla’ which is an isiXhosa name and means “she who is of the people” was given by her godfather, Nelson Mandela, my father’s ‘best-man who could not be, as Nelson Mandela was unable to-make it to my parent’s wedding as he was in jail at the time in the old Johannesburg Fort. This was the 31st December 1961.


Details | Verse | |

Inevitable Bear

Oh lonely Inevitable Bear,
Padding claws, death in white
Sorrow in recurring nightmare
Instinct’s test; fight or flight?

Camouflage against the fence,
A challenge; my subconscious fear
Ominous slowly moving silence,
“Let me in, there’s a bear out here!”


Details | Lyric | |

Memories Washed With Tears

I awoke this morning early, 
       an ache within my soul;
 A longing, deep, beat at my heart 
        in waves hard to control.
Weeks have passed since you and I 
         stood together face to face;
I've searched the world around me, 
         yet none can take your place.

You shared a special part 
         of this life of mine;
Together we drank deeply 
         of youth's sparkling wine.
We seldom write a letter; 
          your voice I do not hear;
But many times before me 
          your image will appear.

Our hearts are bound together; 
         our thoughts still intertwine,
Though the distance now is great 
          between your home and mine.
Today I feel your presence 
          though I have not heard one word;
Friendship stretched across the miles, 
          my mem'ries gently stirred.

True friends find birth in God's great heart; 
          their roots grow strong and deep.
Your friendship is mine forever, 
          a treasure I can keep.
Today I'll spend in reverie, 
          a long and sweet review:;
I'll wash our memories with tears 
          and celebrate knowing you.


Details | Pastoral | |

Blessed Are We




      ********

Blessed are We
       Fore
Not only are We
The Son of Man
       But,
   The Child
Of a Living GOD

          GarY Fields


Details | Free verse | |

ONLY WITH YOU

Your absence is my heartbreak
Without you, my life seems to 
spiral out of control.
I seek a path that can free me
to no avail
How can I let go if you continue
to live inside of me.

How am I to erase the memory of 
your embrace. The  delicate way
your hands caressed 
my skin, your breath upon my breath
the passionate kiss.

Dark hair wild flowing as if
thousands of dancing butterflies 
had landed on my chest.
 
I was yours, you to be mine
All those moments of longing and
quiet desperation lingering still.

I can not have you 
yet all my being is at stake;
and all I can 
do is continue to love you 
while my heart Silently breaks


Details | Sonnet | |

Home to the Ocean

sonnet

While dreaming of my childhood ocean ties, mem'ry's chandelier sheds light, somewhat eclipsed. The essence of the salt still stings my eyes; the rusty taste of iron hangs on my lips. The ocean’s fragrant spray not quite so fair as I recall; it makes me think of death. Many a moon has set since I was there; destiny speaks to me - my own last breath. The ocean’s soft waves bring dulcet mem’ries, my mama’s silk scarf brushing ‘gainst my face. Turbulent storms always left me on my knees under safe precipice back of our place. It is there my dreams rest as I stand by; it’s there I shall be buried when I die.
3 inspired by nette onclaud's poem from 6/12/11, Even After Twilight Loves We miss you, nette, and long for inspirations from your pen as you have time and energy. Meanwhile we read your poetry and pray for whatever keeps you away from us to end.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Old Plane Graveyard

My husband drives the highway past the old plane graveyard.
Permission to visit once a dream, now his reward.
He drools, as he studies the bounty before him, to take.
First the one that comes closest, but none he will forsake.
He smiles as he watches the sun glint off the metal shapes.
He will climb around slowly with his measuring tapes.
To see in the cockpit he would give his right arm.
But needs it instead to draw the fuselage with all it’s charm.
He grunts and he groans as he crawls upon it’s length.
He’ll count the rivets later, after he takes a drink.
Then back he’ll go to examine some more.
There’re switches and gadgets, and baubles galore.
He’s never been happier as he stares at the planes.
To disturb him now would truly be a shame.
He lithely runs between each and every plane.
And he spouts about symbols and phrases hard to explain.
He imagines them flying, as only he could.
Piloting the planes would be better than good.
Occasionally his head pops up as he does research by the ton.
He looks like a gopher as he searches hither and yon.
Finally exhausted he will pack up his gear.
Now he’ll do research on the computer to make it more clear.
He’ll know each it’s history. It’s date and it’s year.
Even whoever commanded it, plus their bombardiers.
The faces he’ll research to go with the names.
And emblems he’ll find that once adorned this old plane.
His friends from his club will go oh and then ah.
Then they’ll ask him to share with modelers, one and all.
By computer the details will spread the world before dark.
It will travel to people in every terrain, no matter how stark.
And modelers will smile as they build a new plane.
With details, and beauty, and history explained.
Now officially remembered with a new life for the old.
People now made happy will remember stories so bold.
I end my refrain with a history newly rediscovered.
An old plane’s life brought back, now on a modelers’ magazine cover.

Contest: Impress Me III
Motif: Historical.  Carol Eastman and Hubby


Details | Acrostic | |

Autumn Memories

Alluring Fall dew upon spider silk,
Unerringly takes me back to my youth.
To a time of those magical days,
Uncanny, how the heart follows suit,
Melting away the years with each beat.
Nostalgic images of playing in leaves,
Melds with the draw of freshly baked goods, while
Earthly scents, sweetly perfume the crisp breeze.
Mom and Grandma, the house they'd transform, with
Ornamental gourds in willow baskets,
Red maple leaves nestled in with pine cones, 
Intricately quilted, down filled blankets.
Every Autumn, I take that long stroll,
Steeped in memories formed deep in my soul.

9/2/12


Details | Verse | |

Philosophical Poetry Week: Transient Tuesday

I am a misprint,
Ink blot on love,
I remain a maybe
Longing for fact,
No speck of lint,
A hand in glove.
Thunder; a baby
Will only react

When you etch
Parallel clouds,
Whistling on cue
To a dead town.
Dream a sketch
Of silent crowds
Becoming you,
This boiling crown

Chews thought
Into flagellation.
Holes in the walls
To spy through,
Seeking a sort
Of bricked-up sun.
A heaven of halls,
All leaving you.


Details | Free verse | |

Part I of Indian Summer

Slowly, 
The air fills with blue, and the greens catch fire
The hammerlight of Summer
With little mouse-steps,
Steals off into apricity.

I divide my days
Between wine and responsibilities
As a child divides his
Between play and obedience.

The time itself, at its best,
Is wine to me,
Full of light and flavors
Vying for my attention.

The aptly named Sept/ember
Ignites itself against the skies
And sets my thoughts asmoulder;
The inspiration I have begged and badgered
To arrive, does so at last
By its own rule, on its own clock
In the deep of the night
While I should be asleep.

I awake,
Dreams close behind my shoulder,
And find myself at this crossroads,
Inexorably older.


Details | I do not know? | |

Thoughts

It’s amazing to have many thoughts,
The worst is when you know they are simply thoughts that can be shattered,
A pile of thoughts was increasing that became a palace of dreams,
Within a blink and years of determination, it is all destroyed.
 
As if the world is a graveyard, so that old thoughts are buried and destroyed,
So that there is a birth of a new one with genuine perserverance,
One cannot complain nor blame,
Sometimes, some situations only show that it was only meant to be buried.
 
Some people are part of one’s life to only make sure that happiness comes in installment,
And they deserve the credit to everything,
Thoughts, Oh Thoughts, bring me a day where I am glad I have none left because it is hard,
It is hard and seeing every breath slipping away without leaving any motivational belief.
 
Then I turn to be different and knowing I will come through this and move on,
Thoughts are meant to be filtered,
And some thoughts are meant to be buried in the graveyard of false hope,
So that one can learn how to smile again embracing a new ambience.


Details | I do not know? | |

My Wishes are Simple





My Wishes are Simple


My wishes are simple,
my desires few,

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



My wishes are simple,
my dreams not too grand,

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



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

my heart resting beneath a swaying palm,

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





Details | Haiku | |

How Music Makes Me Feel

my soul exploding
        in beautific harmony with
his melodic Words


Details | Rhyme | |

THE BAMBOO PYRAMID

That treasury of memories most precious,
With these few words I seek to praise.
It is our school yearbooks of the past,
The repository of events from happier days.

I thank GOD for time to compose this tale
And for youth of spirit to view these scenes.
Cause this adventure began so long ago,
When we started the trek as kings and queens.

The voyage took me far beyond this shore,
Where clocks no longer tick and time marches not,
And the almond-eyed girl strums her instrument
Until sweet dreams overtake me asleep on my cot.

I follow her as my vision assumes a landscape,
Across green pastures and meandering streams.
‘Til a pyramid of bamboo comes into view,
A quite curious structure of bamboo beams.
There at the entrance I climb the marble steps,
And carry this precious book into the darkness.
Being guided by the inner aura of mystique,
I gave the volume rest in the drawer of a chest.

As I bowed to request GOD’s grace and blessing,
The fire in my soul yearned for a divine quencher.
The whole world seemed beautiful as I left,
Knowing that tomorrow starts a new adventure.


Details | Free verse | |

1960

It was the start of a decade not to be forgotten.

It was my growing up period.  A very bad year for me

in many ways.  My last year of Jr. High I was kicked out

for smoking in boy's restroom.  Then a few months later

I was kicked out again in my first of high school,

smoking on school property as the Vice-Principal was

waiting for me out side of door way, as I lit up, there he

was.  My dog shep died just before school started.

After those things it was a great year.  Some great

TV shows were on that year, the debut of the Andy

Griffith show with good old Barney Fife as his deputy.

Then there was the Jack Benny Show, My Three Sons,

and Life and Legend of Wyatt Earp and many more.

The Pittsburt Pirates defeated the New York Yankees in

Seven games in a huge upset.  The Eagles upset the

Green Bay Packers in the NFL Title Game, this was way

before the Super Bowl.  Movies coming our way were

Psycho a very scary movie.  David Jansen made a movie called

"Ring of Fire", where he played a Deputy Marshall overpowered by

these two escaped convicts and this girl, they took him hostage,

up into the Oregon Forest, this fire breaks out creating a lot of drama.

John F. Kennedy was elected our President, I was too young to vote for

him, but if elected again I was going to vote for him.  This was before i 

became a Republican, but then came November 22, 1963 changed all of that.

My friend Danny and I started our 3rd year working at the Iowa State Fair

as ticket takers on the midway.  That fall him and I  went to our

first sock hop at our new school East High, we didn't dance with anyone,

we went to look at the pretty girls, us being too shy to talk with them.

Our football team had a great season with a 6-2 record.  They won the big

six conference and the City Championship.  I really miss going to those

high school football games.

Music was starting to go downhill for me, until Chubby Checker came

out with the song "The Twist" then later came the Beach Boys and Dion

was great.  Was so young in 1960 i had my whole life in front of me,

now most of it is behind me.  But those were great times.

Written 8-18-11


Details | Shape | |

' MoonBee's Heart (or) Filled With Love ... '

.            .Touched By  Love	                 I  Feel– So–In– Love
        This Heart Of Mine Loves	         With All Of  My Soul-Love
     My Greatest Love & Glory-Love      & Always  Truest  Story  Love 
    My  Oldest,  Yet  Like New-Love,    My Life Always Knew This Love
    My  Boldest  - Brightest, Wisest Love, My Surest, Undisguised Love
    Deep & Wide As The Ocean Love, High As Space–Skies Above Love
     My  Sweetest Love,  &  Complete  Love   &  Most  Easiest To Love
      My Unreleased,   At-Peace  Love  & My Powerful, Unleashed  Love
       My  Simple...   Unselfish,   Warmest,   Wealthiest,   Purest,  Love
         My  Most   Enduring…   Devoted…   Desired…  &   Dearest Love
           My Biggest,  &   Beauteous   &   Blest  &  Best  of  All  Loves
             Because From  YOU: Comes  All  Other Big  &  Small  Loves
               a  Child    a  Husband     a  Father    &   Mother     Love
                Friend, Stranger,  Christian - Sister  &  Brotherly Love
                  Love  … This  Real …  Will  Keep Us  Together  Love
                    Love  … Is  The  Only  Thing  That  Matters  Love
                      Songs  &  Dance  &  Romantic  &  Poetic Loves
                        Are  My  Pleasures  &   Philanthropic   Loves
                          Live ... For  Holy  Love  &  For  Only Love
                              Eternal  Love … &  …  Supernal  Love
                                The  Son Of God, Came  For Love
                                    Father  GOD,  Gave For Love
                                       The   Essence   Of   Love
                                          The  Idea  & Ideal of
                                                L… O… V… E…
                                                  G    O    D
                                                      O   f
                  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~ 
                                                 L… O… V… E…
                                  Reflect This Love…Respect This Love
                              Protect This Love   …        Until Perfect Love
                   Go Beatles: All You Need Is  Love All You Need Is Love
            Love Is All You Need Love Is All You Need Love Is All You Need
           She Loves You Yeah Yeah Yeah       She Loves You Yeah Yeah Yeah
                 She Loves You Yeah                                  Yeah Yeah Yeah


Details | Rhyme | |

I Want

I want to sing you
I want to write you
I want to watch you
And describe you

I would like to compose you
You, my ninth symphony
To put you on a stave
To play your melody

I want to sculpt you
Without engraving too much
Hardly anything to change
Some details to fix

I want to photograph you
Under different lights
To whip with the flash
All those artifices that are hiding you

I want to break your records
Go through your body's limits
Jump higher, run further
When man an athlete is one

I could go on with other arts
But none of them seem good enough to define you
So I'll go on in which my words are the finest
For you, I'll never stop writing


Details | I do not know? | |

Precious Cherub

Midnight glows from behind pearl- glazed pools,
darkness hides the delight of eyes wide open.
As time floats by in dream-like waves,
sunrise blooms with the wake of morn'.
Scented petals of nature's honey linger;
butterflies perform in perfect harmony.


Details | I do not know? | |

The Weight of Material and Maternal Affiliations

Special relationships are developed and strengthened over the years; And those relationships reveal an obligation to fulfil when wisdom begins to knock during the tweens; Oh what a shame, a shock, an ocean of tears brews like fresh coffee; The aroma of unpleasant emotions desires to embrace the tide of positivity; Hours of analyzing, wondering, weeping, twisting and turning; The ray of hope from within crawls assuring that day would come where love, respect, and a big hug would return. Every move, every thought, and every gesture seems deceiving from someone else’s perspective; The battle to speak up or atleast share some distasteful sentiments to a near one were uneasy; Every feeling seems cripple and a handicap; Craving the desire of the kiss of sympathy, empathy, and aspiration became phony; Determination, and the ambition to do it or make it right never faded; Thus, the struggle to attain security from within first was the initial step. A new day brought about a new learning that the power and natural sensation of maternal affiliation seemed insensitive, competitive, selfish, and unfair; The joy and contentment of holding the baby in one’s arms was blurry and forgotten; The result of feeling complete as a woman did not ring a bell nor the gratitude toward the Supreme power was acknowledged; But, the cultivation of a new battle was instigated without notice; The innocent tween was struggling with mind games with the assertive adult; It was like a black magic being done when many things simply backfired. Over the years, the achievements, praise, support, and love from people whom one would least expect from was given without any doubt; Slowly trying to accept the fact that not everyone’s maternal relationship is normal or even a bed of roses; However, the lucky ones receive a bundle of appraises, moral support, advice, a kiss on the cheek to show they matter; The juggle between maternal and material relationship will be a long and awaited answer; Till the last breath, the concerns over material possessions and security will be anyone’s concern because it is never easy to be happy with what you have knowing what you have may be distressful; The weight of material and maternal affiliations still arises many questions, unwanted moments, and of course a salute to cherished occasions that anyone has undergone.


Details | Couplet | |

Dehydrate Me

She Sings about Love, But She's Broken
On The Inside Like a Dulling Light.

                - He Lost His Muse -
           - But She Lost So Much More -

Maybe None of us are Talented, Maybe
Love Perpetuates Creativity.

                - Onto a Steel Corridor -
            - Spattered With Broken Glass -

The Only Way Out of This is To 
Let The Waves Lap at Your Feet. 

                - So That The Shoreline Weighs -
               - More Than The Deepest Fathoms -

I'll Play With Fireflies in The Twilight, and They'll
Indulge Themselves in My Eyeline Reflections.

                - Fall To Your Knees in the Water -
               - So That The Salt Stains Your Lips -

Sink Your Teeth Into My Neck and Bite
My Mouth, It Was How Your Back Arched.

                - But Don't Ever Let it Bring You Down -
               - If We Burn, We'll Burn Together, Alone -               


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Main Matrix

So, if a matrix is a body substance, in which all cells are embedded?
Then can I not spiritually say that the body of Christ is also a matrix?
Well, is it safe to assume or safer to not assume the differences in such?

If I have a World Wide Web with many matrixes, there must be a main.
How does one achieve the main matrix without a conversion of all matrixes?
Each living breathing organism has a matrix, but what supplies this?
 
Seems how all bodies have cells embedded in a matrix,
Is it not safe to assume that the universe has a matrix?
If so, where is the main universal matrix?
There must be a connection of some sorts,
Nevertheless, what is it and where is it?
Moreover, why has this not been thought of?
 
If the body is the temple of the Lord,
Then He must have a main matrix.
Matrix is Latin for womb.
So in which womb is this matrix?
Only a female has a womb.
There must be one that is required by none.
 
Now let us get even more difficult here.
We have a World Wide Web with many matrixes.
What if the World Wide Web is an individual womb?
It obviously has good and evil in its growth.
Could there have been two that fused by one?
Could there have been a conversion of all matrixes.
Or is there only one main matrix being a female?
 
Let us get back to the body of Christ and His matrix.
Let us even go to your own bodies matrixes.
An enclosure within in which something originates or develops,
This is what lives and breathes inside of you every day, a matrix.
Do we not develop Christ within ourselves, and He our originator?
Is it not safe to assume that we are the body of Christ?
Moreover, that we are of a matrix that has a universal main matrix?
 
 
®Registered: Ann Rich   2006


Details | Quatrain | |

IN RAIN AND REASONS






Stone black is the park at will But cool is the night That gleams across a lone hill Oak decked in white With moistened twigs nearly bare Clinging the pond Windblown by misty air Tells me I am bound For one early morning rain Languid in repose Pounding on an incised pain Bench without a rose This heart trickles as it sits A throb that heaves For drenched flower that wilts Upon dark moon’s eaves Oh the park knows my longing Tasting all seasons That drape souvenirs’ mourning In rain and reasons ..... *inspired by the title of Lightfoot's song, "Early Morning Rain" by nette onclaud Francine Roberts’ Write Me a Lightfoot Poem


Details | I do not know? | |

Anger Pain and Dramatic Stress

Anger, pain and dramatic stress 
The 3 things that I possess
Me, Reggie is okay at times
I sometimes choose to confide in my rhymes
I express my feelings through a pen
Just like some women get satisfaction through men.
This isn’t a poem because this is a thought
I have thoughts moving so fast, just too fast to be caught.
I hate being stressed
Just like I hate being possessed
I don’t mean to sound evil and mean
But I am different from the other people you have seen.
This is not a poem…this is a thought
I have thoughts moving so fast that they can’t be caught.
I have it good to some…others have it good to me
Some don’t realize how hard it is to be
A poet…it’s hard writin’ poetry with a lot of feeling
You feel forced to write something appealing
You break down cause cus’ you feel an obligation
To write good poetry that there breaks your concentration
I found a solution that my mind’s fighting
Maybe I should stop all the poetry and all the writing
These are fast ideas too fast to be caught
This isn’t a poem this is just a thought


Details | Lyric | |

Summertime Re-Lyric

Summertime…and the livin’ is easy,                                                
Flowers growin’ and the sun’s sittin’ high.                                    
Your Daddy’s rich and your Momma’s so good lookin’;               
So hush, pretty baby…you got no reason to cry. 

One of these days, you’re gonna rise up smilin’.
Take a look around and think you’ve got it all.
You’ve got your Momma’s looks, all your Daddy’s money,
And all the boys in town are at your beck and call.

Summertime…and the livin’ is so easy,
Laughin’, singin’, havin’ so much fun.
No time to stop and think about your future
And what life will bring when your Summer’s  done.

‘Cause Summertime, it don’t last forever.
Breezes cool and the leaves begin to fall;
And in your quiet moments, you sit and wonder
How you've come so far, but have no love at all.

Yes, Summertime…and the livin’ was so easy; 
Ain’t it sad how fast the good times fly; 
And now your Momma’s looks and all your Daddy’s money
Another sweet, warm Summer’s day they cannot buy. 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The color of love

Without him beside me, my future seems so bleak, being naïve, 
i was told he was not meant for me. Ignoring this world of cruelty
and its power tear our world apart. Now sitting i ponder why I being so naïve from the very start

My tomorrow will never come, for I will forever live in his yesterday. Turning my back on the one who loved me in every single way.
Not even time can heal a shattered heart, but I guess somewhere in his heart he loved me after all

Many times I’ve dreamt of him and unable to hide my tears,
As I reminisce that sad day I decide we go our separate ways,
I pinch myself, as in a dream, knowing it is not true,
How could I let go of such a man, no woman would ever do.

I remember the look in his eyes when he dropped by and found my note. Pain crippled on his face leaving such a heart in pain, as he read along “My heart is with you but I will forever be alone, never will you and I share a place of our own. Rejected by all to cross the color line thinking my love is blind".

 If again such a love should come my way, I’d break free of those dark days I’d confess my true heart and reject the rest and  break through this racial barrier and fallow my lovers path wherever he lead to ease this heart that beat to grieve.


Details | Rhyme | |

Letters from 1939

I found an old, worn box 
Inside my antique dining hutch
It was filled with yellowed paper 
Greeting cards and such
The envelopes were dated back 
To nineteen thirty-nine
From far and wide in that December
On the eve of Christmas time

The tattered pages, worn so thin 
That I could scarcely read
Were filled with warmest wishes
Not a hint of modern greed
Although ornate with pressed gold-leaf 
The simple cards were dear
And time rolled back as they revealed
The climate of that year

When thunder over Europe
Hinted of what was in store
I do not speak of weather
But the coming of the War
The letter sent from Scotland
Was the most remarkable
It spoke how fear of Hitler
Even then was palpable

The longhand note from Glasgow
Spoke of bombings in the night
And prayers that their loved ones
In the field would be alright
Holidays away from home
Soldiers going off to serve
Hoping when it mattered
They could summon up the nerve

How far have we come since then…
Has it been so very long?
Is the cause more “right” than it was then
Or is it still just as "wrong"?
Whichever side you stand today
On the battle lines of war
Remember that you’re free to say
Just what you stand up for



*Note: 
I found these notes and letters while I was cleaning out clutter last Saturday. I don't know 
how they got in my house, but I am thankful for the precious perspective that they offer. I 
will keep the letters in a safe place until I know with whom I should leave them. Thanks for 
reading! Donna


Details | Free verse | |

Observations from a squash court wall

Built to take the abusive raqueteering
punishment unleashed upon me
by human beings

Towering around those agile people
so quick of foot and strong of arm
with blood sweat, and testosterone raging

Black rubber ball scuffs pure white painted walls
a dash here, a strike there, a record good or bad
but each a mark of personal aptitude from a player

Highly varnised wooden floors sit at my foot
Echoing squeeks and thumps from trainers around vast cells
where contenders choose to be imprisoned

Supportive friends often stand outside courts cheering on
While raquets wave, splicing the air repeatedly
Until game over, exhausted and calmer pair remove shoes then vacate

Will this leave me in peace again
or will it mean my services are futher required today
Just what is on my timetable and for how long my working life?
                                                                                         
                                                                                         
                                                                                         
                                                                                         
                                                                 d


Details | Couplet | |

Jumpstart - collaboration with Poet Destroyer

How did it come to this?
You and me down memory bliss…

Somewhere in between losing myself …
I misplaced the dust remover off my shelf…

Now I’ll march on, like a cheerful parade…
Smiling my big pearly whites, as you begin to fade...

I disguised the use, when you called me a broken down car…
Adjusting all the plugs under my hood, I reached in too far...

I touched and fondled every mound and tendency inside of me…
All my heart needed, was a brand new battery…

I found my own cure, reviving my broken heart disease…
Blocking the sunburn from jumping, on my heart, like a trapeze…

I got rocks stored in my pocket, that came with a guarantee…  
Sustaining weight on my weakened knees, reassuring me warranty…

That I will get through this, without you to drive…
I have a map of the world, traced on my thighs…

You may have held the moon, but not anymore…
There are millions of galaxies for me to explore … 

Once I face the dark and horrible truth…
That I didn’t like who I was, with you… 

That’s why I shouldn’t be starving, for your attention…
When all you gave me, were paltry inventions…

Instead I’ll wave bye, at my shriveled heart’s cost…
And immediately stop sniffing, our love’s exhaust…

In time you’ll be nothing but a tumbleweed …
A random thought I won’t even keep…

When I’m fully restored, you’ll be left in the dust…
And I’ll be stronger than I ever was


Details | Free verse | |

The Great Blasket Islands

Visits long ago 
to the Blaskets Islands,
to untouched areas 
on the Dingle peninsula
came to mind 
on this sleet winter’s eve.

The peninsula,
nestled in heather mountains.
The coastline,
tongues of lonely white sand.
waved rocks,
drenched in blue mussels
tide pools, 
alive with shrimps and periwinkles
A sea-salted life
unspoiled and free.

Only marine life remains,
but I still hear the music
our native language,
the voices of Seanchaí
the ballads, sean?s, 
Peig Sayers
who shaped our school years,
her renditions of island life
her mad pise?gs,
handed down 
from generation to generation.

Stories of
Islanders huddled together
under thatch,
open turf fires
cooking pot on a hook,
the sweet air wafting
of clay pipe tobacco
a pinch of snuff
sniffed from a silver box,
nursing a glass 
of neat Poitín, uisce beatha,
the strong smell of tweeds
and geansaí báinín.

I think of times lost,
changed forever.
Cottage ruins,
where goats roam free,
An Blascaod Mór
my history, my heritage.

Gaelic words in this poem


* Seanchaí – storytellers
Sean?s – singing without music
Peig Sayers and her mad pise?gs – A Gaelic writer who we studied in school and her mad superstitions.
Poitín, uisce beatha – very strong alcohol made from potatoes, called the water of life.
geansaí báinín – strong sheep wool sweaters usually in a cream colour with complex patterns.





Details | Personification | |

Why Should I

Was it enough or was it too much?
Sometimes too fast but always too slow!
God knows that I come with these seeds that grow.
Inside and out I absorb every single touch,
But why should I?
Why should I be the only one that knows?
Stepping through time and sliding back so smooth so I go!
I say I can qualify!
Where was I and why was I there?
Sometimes too obvious but always with doubt!
God knows that I come riding in on a prayer.
I absorb every single touch inside and out,
But why should I? 
Why should I be the only one that cares?
Climbing the highest mountains and sliding down so steep but on a dare!
I say I can magnify!

What did I say and what did I do?
Sometimes too quite but always too loud!
God knows that I come with a gleam that shines so proud.
Inside and out I absorb every single touch by you.
But why should I? 
Why should I be the only one in the crowd?
Walking on water and walking backwards but at least I know how.
I say I can intensify!
Do I want to or do you need me to?
Sometimes I wonder and sometimes I simply don’t care.
God knows that I come standing on a higher sky of blue.
I absorb every single touch by you inside and out with this glare.
But why should I?
Why should I be the only one with this view?
Up in the clouds and aimless but always led by you!
I say, “I SANCTIFY”!


®Registered: 1997  Ann Rich


Details | Personification | |

THE END GAME THE END




         **********Note: The Game is over********



The second batter put th ball
             Over the fence
No one knew where it went
It screamed and it screeched the sky
And burdened it's silence with light
        --------
Their was an Angel in deep middle field
It was also an Angel of the LORD
He really fielded it hard....
      ------
He swept so high
That he breech the sky
He braved the breath of
Death and Eternity
But, He make it back eventually
      ------
He cast that ball in the name
              Of the Lord
But, He didn't cast that hard
And as it turned out
The game was won
In the name of the Father
And the Holy Son
And this is how we have
To end this pun!


                 Poet Author
                 Gary FIELDS


Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Bird in Flight

Sitting there late last night! 
I took everything in with my deepest breath about me.
I could quiver feeling the warmth sinking slowly in, 
I was covered over distances which I could now see.
I had left myself. 
I was gone again.
I was above and beyond the clouds,  
Soaring deeply with every one of my though,
Higher and higher I rose, 
Reaching loftiness’ I have never once felt. 
I was a bird in flight! 
Stunning with privilege I had brought.
Feeling myself from deep within!
Standing there that night, 
The radiance beamed all around me so I took this in.
And lo and behold, there I went again.
I could feel myself while locked deep with my thoughts.
I was absorbed inside by everything surrounding me.
I felt the depth that my eyes could never ever once see.
Loosing all truth of myself, every sensation my soul had caught.
Further and further I rose, reaching capacities I had never felt.
I’m a feather in the air, 
Gathering sensations inside of myself.
I lay there that night, mind, body, and soul with me.
I was calm with the breeze, 
Inside of myself,
Feeling myself!
And once again I was a bird in flight soaring so high and much too free.
I was locked sound with my deepest thoughts.
More and more I rose and impact for impact I felt.
Feathers of a bird in flight and one of me I have surely got.
Ever since that night, many, many things have come to me.
One by one, gathered by the sensations carried all over me.
Touching inside of myself, again, again, and again!
Higher and higher I climb to reach the very tipsy top.
Gathering it all, I am more of me when more of me can be felt.
I am the breeze in the air touching the many feathers these birds have brought.
Many feathers just from sitting here, but each the soar of the wind has surely caught.
I’m a bird in flight gathering all that is real or not and all that is captured in of my-self.
I am surely the feather that fell from the very top, 
Because I am now what then I surely was not!
I am simply that feather in the air falling loose and free inside of myself.

®Registered: 1997 Ann Rich


Details | Senryu | |

' Golden Harvest ... ' 40th Senryu

    Golden, Full Moon Shone
On All The Harvest, That’s Grown
    Welcome In Our Home


Details | Lyric | |

The Apple PASTURE

DONE



                             The Apple PASTURE

Oh how I long
To drift into the apple pasture.
Were once was and all well meet.
A pure and dear site.
Where silver reflection cover the still waters that holds the golden
grains of martilty and the grazing souls lie young amounce no stars.
Oh how I long
To drift into the apple pasture
Were wins smells of melon and the trees whisper spring corals in the mellow dark and best of light and time creeps into no tomorrow.



                                               Jay


Details | Cinquain | |

There No Rest

There No Rest


I can't hear you
I can't see you
I must be losing my mind


Our sanity is losing it pace
Shall this trio fall into madness
Let us fall for we shall never break

Must we see day as or time to rest
Must we see night as or time to play
Where going feel every second painfully

I touch your head
I touch you lips
I touch you chin

I release you
I trap you
I watch you

Sleep
Awake
Meditation

I give you birth
I take your life
I give you peace
 

Let sleep
Let lay our heads
At least we know 

We are protected


Details | Rhyme | |

You Were A Friend

You were a friend,
I couldn’t ask for more,
Now that we’ve reached the end,
You walked out the door.
I know what you don’t,
You have forgotten.
Admit it, (I won’t)
I think about you so often.
I wanted to keep
Memories in a jar,
So when I sleep
Better times wouldn’t be so far.
Our friendship is gone
But the past still lingers,
The Sun’s rise at dawn
Erases times that were better.
You were a friend,
‘That’ I would forget,
Times were different then,
I wish we never met…


Details | Couplet | |

Past Time

I am ten and crossing home.
Two players missed it, as it rolls on and on.
An error if you're scoring the play,
but I call it a home run on my first day.
I am ten, and I have found my first love
in a tattered ball, and a hand-me-down glove.

I am twenty, and I am throwing hard.
Beading sweat, please stay in the yard!
Each pitch thrown with a hope and a prayer.
Scholarship athletes can't be only fair.
Medical school looms larger than the Show.
A privilege for few, but I don't want to go.

I am thirty and I cannot put it down.
Sundays the old men come around.
Love of the game a common bond.
The bat is no longer a magic wand.
Reminiscing about those bygone days.
I can no longer beat out those close plays.

I am forty, and I watch with delight.
My own boys throwing with all their might.
A lump in my throat, a moist eye.
I contentedly look on and sigh.
I've passed down the love to the next generation,
and I wouldn't trade that for a standing ovation.


Details | Free verse | |

Power of Your Love

To a Bride and Groom

You have the power
over my love
to make my day rain or shine
it all began the day you asked me
"to be mine" and I wrote my name
in blood, on your hearts
dotted line
the power of my love
to fuel what feeds within me
pounce on me as a tiger
humble me as a mouse
your strength envelopes me
as if standing in an unbreakable
glass house
you have the power
over my stare, as you glare
into my inner spirits soul
those who dare to try to divide
I heed them to beware
the power you have over my love
leaves me content, without a care
floating together, we share, in
true loves enchanting bliss
what started years ago, with a friendly
hug, is reincarnated within every
new days kiss




Details | Rhyme | |

My Hero died today

It was very early in the morn
The news not good, in depths forlorn

Memories of you dressed in your army best
A hero to me a father better than all the rest

Mom would play the piano and sing Daddy's little girl
I cried each time I heard it, my emotions in a whirl

No hero can be perfect the war had taken its toll
Alcohol had become an addiction to fill that empty hole

It stole so much time from us all, the years they flew right bye
A VA doctors test messed you up then they sent you home to die

Another hospital then another again you went to die in ICU
More than three weeks on life support with IV's arms all black and blue

I was glad to get to see you,have the chance to hold your hand
My own still much smaller than my hero's, who's life had not seemed grand

I wish I could have been there today before you passed away,I had a few words I really
wanted to say
I love you dad and always will and happy fathers day

This poem is dedicated to my father who passed early this morning fathers day 2010


Details | Verse | |

Solar Love

Every star is someone eles's son (shield your eyes) shrug off hate from everyone familiar place been here before thousands of nights the ocean shore coasts are changing minds align hate and fear must now resign connect the dots move my child tame the shy wake the wild shred advice relayed from the miser castrate cancer obstructing the wiser transcendental the hydrogen burns furnishing life each time earth turns


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Who i am

Who i am

Gazing at the mirror observing what I see,
all might not be perfect, but it all belongs to me.
In the eyes of the mirror, a woman beckoned me,
when I looked at her from head to toe, I just love what I see.
 There might have been a part of me, that to me was never known,
 i would have search to find it, if I had only known. 
This love for myself that was embedded inside confused an approaching frown
 and the moment I spent to discover myself, my world Turned upside-down.


I was afraid of people saying, "Who does she think she is?"
 Now i have the courage to stand and say "this is who i am".
 Never will i follow the majority of living a life of constant duplicity,
 as a successful rebellion, take me as I am, or watch me walk away.
 What makes me, me is my originality, with lots of sincerity
 and I cherish this freedom which lies in being me.

The eyes of the society might not project its light on me,
but never will this bring me down or makes me think less of me.
 No external source will fulfill my void, within me i find my eternal joy.
 Known life's is too short to be self- obsessed but when my eyes sent me a rainbow
 filled with gentle colors that project confident within me, 
my world seems brighter each time i opened up the window of my face. 


Details | Couplet | |

A Tribute to Jack Russel

He was graced with long life as the work he required,
A present flame, aft he retired,
He deepened the souls that sat before him,
And made them express with written decorum.
He read their assignments with special attention
That challenged and called forth youth's finest rendition. 
He opened the door to a life well read,
His students entangled in Baalat's web.

Gazing back through the specularium of time 
One saw an intellect so immensely fine
That it slightly abashed those of higher grade,
His light joining their lights where others fade.
Moving on one lingered a bit in the past,
Still meeting challenges from his intellect, so vast.
That it scarce was contained 
In the role for him framed. 

His soul now borne upon the Stygian Lake
Leaves proper grammar trailing in its wake;
This gentle muse vanished in the night,
The curtains closed, doused the light.  
No need for stately obelisk oe'r his bier
To greet mournful pilgrims once a year;
For though he'll be long gone, 
The phallic symbol, he loved so, lives on.


Details | Quatrain | |

How Dreams are Born at Fifteen

Fifteen days of living I blew bubbles
Bubbles pearlescent in the sun
In hope and love I blew you bubbles
Ephemeral, floating, glorious sun loved bubbles.

In my act of creation, exhale air
Life held close in the bubbles 
Uh-whoo, uh-whoo, here’s life to live
I blew you bubbles for you to catch.

Leap and snatch we played bubbles
Bubbles so airy we can hold and spray
A bubbly world of shimmery beings
Floating in the wind of our wake.

And at the end of the pliant and fun filled day
We dreamed of bubbles, leaping for bubbles
Watery, airy bubbles floating, flaring and caught
and held within our hand a bubble, a bubble  smashed.

And oh how silly we seemed to break our play
Open up our hand, find within a pearl
A soft shimmery white pearl of life
And let it fly away, in the breeze, like our dream, free.


Details | I do not know? | |

I am...

I am a poet writing of my pain
I am a person living a life of shame
I am your daughter, hiding my depression
I am your sister, striving to make a great impression
I am your friend acting like I'm fine
I am a dreamer, wishing this life, wasn't mine
I am a girl who struggles with suicide
I am a teenager, pushing her tears aside







Side note: (Writing for other ladies out there, not so much myself, so don't worry about me)


Details | I do not know? | |

Our Abandoned Theme Park

When we first met here, it didn’t have such a dead feeling like it does now. This place used to have a soul, it used to be alive. Now it stands alone like a nameless grave. Forgotten and empty. Isn’t it funny? A place that once made me so happy, now feels like I’m walking into an angry cellmate’s prison cell, waiting to get shanked in the heart repeatedly. I walk past what used to be our favorite wooden roller coaster which is now rundown and rusty. It’s in shambles; parts of it are not even intact. The broken half of the wooden roller coaster looks as if it’s trying to reach out to the other piece that has fallen apart to become connected and complete again, but the overgrown vines keep them apart. I finally stop walking to look up to admire what has become of this thing that now reminds me of a torture device from a scene from the movie Saw. Just as I thought, looks worse than it did before and each day it begins to look more and more like an old woman who needs help standing up.  As I stand here my mind begins to play tricks on me. My focus is now shifted from the wooden roller coaster to ground level of the vacant theme park.  From a distance I see him and I laughing together, looking at each other as if that was exactly where we wanted to be and nowhere else. Then my mind starts to flicker the scene on and off like a light bulb, kind of teasing me saying “now you see it, now you don’t.” When my mind does this, I know what’s going to happen next. This scene that I’m watching from afar will soon be put into my imaginary basement of haunting memories for me to save for another dreary walk in our now least favorite theme park.


Details | Monorhyme | |

My favorite Devonshire

When I had a Family

The hurricane had finally moved out to sea
but we were left without electricity.
As night fell, none of us could see,
but Dad lit a candle and read us poetry.
“The Raven” might have been too scary
for a child who was only three.
But as flickering light cast shadows eerily
I felt all the emotion of the tale he read to me.
I recall this candle-lit night when I’m feeling empty
to restore the joy I once knew when I had a family. 

Carolyn Devonshire

Dear Carolyn,

This poem takes me back to the days of my childhood, when we lacked many of the facilities of today, but were days full with sheer life and its collective love, peace and helpfulness in the setting of an agrarian, rural community. My kids have never seen all that, living, as we do, in today's nuclear families, living solitary lives , in a sea of humans engaged in cut-throat competition with each other. Thnx so much for sharing.

Love,
S.Jagathsimhan Nair
19 may 12

For Gwen's 'My fav Devonshire'




Details | Free verse | |

Quest

A pirate’s quest was always best When you were a youngster A search for knowledge at some college Might be a quest to conquer And when you’re old not quite so bold Your quest for youth grows stronger And when we’re frail our thoughts prevail A quest for peace may linger The moral of the story is Don’t take your life for granted Find joy in every minute And Life’s your seed, so plant it!
AgMoore©


Details | Couplet | |

Writer's Block

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

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

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

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

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

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


Details | Light Poetry | |

A Farm House Porch

A farm house porch over looking the fields in the early fall Sits the old farmer who for a while has worked no crops at all He scratches the head of the old faithful collie dog at his side It is just him and the farmer who are reflecting with pride Relatives and friends and loved ones who they have known In a life so full of plenty along with crops they have grown There have been visitors who have driven up that long gravel road Who have held key parts of a life as life jouney unfolds He goes in to the kitchen where there is an old covered chair A chair that will always be covered that he takes special care It is now getting late and before he says his nightly prayer He thinks for a minute who he will include in there Then he gets down by his bedside on old arthritic knees And prays for so many in his life that graciously did please


Details | Lanterne | |

Boats

Boats
Sail by
Leaving me
Waving goodbye
Off


Details | I do not know? | |

I'm Tired Of It All

I'm tired of the lies,
I'm tired of the deceit,
I'm tired of the rumors,
I'm tired of it all.

I'm tired of the pain,
I'm tired of all the heartaches,
I'm tired of the break-ups,
I'm tired of it all.

I'm tired of the hatred,
I'm tired of the sadness,
I'm tired of the anger,
I'm tired of it all.

I wish everything was perfect.
I wish everyone could get along.
I wish all the negative things in the world could be tossed away.
I wish, I wish, I wish...but this is reality, and here...NOTHING is perfect.


Details | Monorhyme | |

Wish I were a boy

When I would walk down a street,
and with head high, love being a deadbeat.
when I would look at a sensible chick,
and then moments of her with me would flick.
I would just make my way to her;
and lead her to my drive like her personal chauffeur.

When the boys would try to mess with me,
and to what I do or believe they disagree.
I would not hesitate to pass my strong fist,
And let them know that another bully cannot co-exist.

When I would feel low and while all alone,
And deep in my tiny heart I would feel thrown.
I would just go to the nearby store,
Buy me some cigarettes or walk to a h're.

When my girlfriend says, "I cant continue with you";
fearlessly claim that the love was just hitherto.
I would not hesitate to turn my back to her
And diminish the pain in my heart, just like a blur.

I would walk again, as easy as a toy...
And start with the next, thats the advantage of being a boy...


Details | Free verse | |

Drawing From The Deep Well

Drawing water from deep well
Clear _cool refreshing water
Drop bucket _watch fall
That windless works
That is if you do
Turn _turn the rope
Each turn gets much harder
A lot like life, friend



1.  Drawing (1)     10.  Watch(1)     19.  Turn(3)      27.Like(1)
2.  Water(2)         11.  Fall(1)         20.   The(1)      28.Life(1)
3.  From(1)          12.  That(2)        21.   Rope(1)    29.Friend(1)
4.  Deep(1)          13.  Windless(1) 22.    Each(1)
5.  Well(1)           14.  Works(1)     23.    Gets(1
                                                                                            
6.  Clear(1)         15.   Is(1)          24.    Harder(1)  
7.  Cool(1)          16.   If(1)           25.   A(1)
8.  Refreshing(1)  17.  You(1)        26.    Lot(1)
9.  Drop(1)          18.  Do(1)


Details | Free verse | |

Last Sonnet



Hither I stand, at crossroads,
And then I gaze, at the yonder end-
The vague horizon from where I began;
And all that I may ever deem
Is that- my days
Have been a waken dream.

Hither I stand, at the edge of my dream;
Then I wonder, at the depth of my trance-
An adventurous journey through the wondrous woods;
An idyllic stroll through the vicissitudinous meadow;
And from the final station as I depart,
All that I can ever say, is that
Perpetuation has been a rouge
Of fleeting phases of my life.


Suyash Saxena 
St. Stephen’s College.


Details | Rhyme | |

Buried love

He is sleeping in my bed unsuspecting,
As I sneak out the back door again.
I stalk across the dimly lit garden,
Stricken with guilt, remorse, heart-piercing pain.
 
Even during blissful moments in his arms,
Your face flickers in the reflection in his eyes.
I close mine only to see your face again,
In the blackness, dark as night skies.
 
How can I be happy with someone else,
When thoughts of you haunt me, asleep or awake?
How can I smile up at him,
When its your features I'm trying to remake?
 
Even though he makes me happy,
Its nothing compared to the joy you brought me.
I start the car and stare at the lucky charm,
Remembering when you said, my happiness it will guarantee.
 
I guess it never did work,
Because now I'm sitting in this empty car,
Wondering how things could have gone this wrong,
When we had promised stay together upon a solitary star.
 
I'm driving down the familiar road,
Wishing an accident would take away this pain.
Better a quick unfortunate incident,
Than a slow death, plagued by guilt, going a little insane.
 
Walking through the wrought iron gates,
I cant help remembering the many times I've sneaked out.
Each time I reach the graveled path,
If you're worth the trouble, I doubt.
 
But I cant help stalking out the house,
You've become my obsession, my pilgrimage.
Praying silently he never finds about you,
For I'm sure he'll have me put in a cage.
 
I feel the steady calm rising as I near you,
Your voice is in the wind, the rustle of the leaves.
I can hear my heart beat in my ears,
I move to your headstone among the other graves.
 
As usual I trace the engraved heart,
Let a few tears slip and lie down on your cover.
Wishing the block of marble between would disappear and so,
For the last time I could see my sunshine, my one true lover.
 
- Miliya Parveen


Details | I do not know? | |

Pain as a Hobby II

I shouldn’t live in the past but I’m not just expressing myself
I’m over myself
I promise not to stay there too long but the pain makes everything high definition
Never in the back always a leader, I was the first swimmer in the pack that made it to be a 
human
My dad could vouch, “son you’re real nut”
I own your body but not your mind
It’s my turn to own your eardrum for my own pleasure to do as I will
You will finally listen and take notice because the takeover has begun
She tells me “you didn’t have to write it down. . . you could have just told me
Yeah but you had a listening malfunction
It only seemed to work when you were in pain and wanted to be heard.
I told you everything you needed to know but it was not important at the time.
Pain as a hobby, I do this for fun.
Finding common ground with Ciara just to find out is she more interested in girls.
It would have been cool but I wasn’t on that at the time.
Or the dude that follows popular advice and his girl screws his best friend.
Isn’t it ironic!
When mom and dad can’t get along and dad is forced to leave his home
While growing up son and daughter wondering why Dad wasn’t there and therefore
They go out and force others to feel the pain that they bear.
Now, she is running outside making a scene with a knife in her hand threatening to flat my 
tires.
Granddad, Granddad you died too soon.
Granddad, Granddad maybe if you were the way you were back when it would 
Have mattered, my dad would have been different
Even though I don’t believe in excuses
Unless you are excusing yourself from life lessons
It is never too late to turn to Jesus but why wait until death shows its face
Now I may be destined to follow in your footsteps
Mama Mama you’re killing me 
I’m apart of you and you don’t want me.
I hear you talking about that guy you met at club Sobe
And a one night stand and plan B. 
Maybe it is better I’m going to meet Jesus
I’ll see you there
I would have told you I love you if I had the chance.
O, I aint  through with you yet
Pain as a hobby
I’m painting you a vivid map 
Leading all the way until they call
The center for disease and control
What about the baby daddy who thinks it’s cool to 
Come to her job and shoot her dead in front of co-workers once 
She turns her back and then shoots himself and goes straight to hell.
So, at 21 she leaves behind her three children and her life cut off - all 
Because of jealousy.


Details | Free verse | |

Torn

I soar above the world with effortless ease
My movements sublime, my heart at peace
Gliding gently, watching the world go by
I am a mighty bird, and I fly high

I have a brood in my nest, to which I always return
Ensuring food on the table, security, protection
The brood stays satiated, warm and dry
But I am a mighty bird, I have to fly

In my search for food, I travel through many lands
Land of Kings and Pharaohs and magic wands
In one such land I saw you, Oh! Angel of mine
With a smile so true and eyes that shine

Through those eyes of yours into your soul I peered
All my feelings, my emotions, towards you they steered
I flew into your arms, to tell you my thoughts and what I desire
That’s when I remembered, I am a bird, I have to fly

I am a mighty bird and I fly high
As I soar into the heavens, after bidding you good bye
I see a small river, shining just like your eyes
I land next to it, and I cry, and I cry

I cry because I need you, but my brood needs me too
And I have responsibilities, duties to do
But your eyes keep looking into my heart so deep
And it pokes me raw, makes me bleed

I sit by the river watching the drops flow by
Glistening like little pearls, reminding me of your eyes
Eyes that tell me to soar again into the sky
Be a fearless bird, and fly high

As I fly back to my nest, the air seems dense
My speed reduces due to my heart’s burden
But I know there is no way, but ahead, for me
Back to my own nest, my own tree

But I see you everywhere, wherever I look
Giving me strength to stand by the decisions I took
And the resolve to again launch into the sky
To be a mighty bird, to fly high


Details | Rhyme | |

We Went to Grandma's House


We went to Grandma’s house the other day! And brought some gifts along the way! We enjoyed our time and our wonderful visit We’re glad we had time with her! We wouldn’t miss it! We took her out and did some shopping in town… There were some good buys waiting to be found! We had a chance to have dinner with her too! This was an opportunity we wanted to do! We had a chance to talk about the days of past. Our memories of her, is something that will last! We enjoyed our time with grandma! Yes we did! She always has something worthwhile to give! We thank the Lord for a special grandma like this! Our times together have been happy and bliss! Please take good care of her Lord, is our prayer! Keep her in your tender mercy and care! We look forward to the next time we spend together! She’ll always be our grandma! Today and forever! By Jim Pemberton


Details | Lyric | |

I Don't Want to Leave the Party

The long, long night
Is winding down
From distant rooms
I hear the sound
Of fine old friends
Taking leave
The evening ends
And I believe
The time to follow suit draws near
My heart is tired, but my mind is clear.

The shining lights
Are fading out,
The dawn lies weak
On the walls without
The voices drift
And steal away
As we search for deeper
Things to say
The sands keep flowing through the glass
As present lives become the past.

     - And we all grow old
     - As the Earth spins around
     - As we hold to the love
     - By which we all are bound.

          I don't want to leave the party
          It's always been such fun
          Through all the years and tears and fears
          Feels like it's only just begun.
          I don't want to leave the party
          But I'll follow all my friends.
          Who knows what waits outside the door
          When the magic of our living ends?

The hand that holds
Your glass of wine
Is cracked and aged
As much as mine
The shadows of
Our memories
Are lengthening
Into the seas
Of onward flowing history,
The days once shared by you and me.

The love that lit
Ten thousand nights
Is still alive
And burning bright.
The time we spent
On sharing dreams
Is further now,
Or so it seems.
The lives we built we can't forget,
And no one wants to leave just yet.

     - And we all grow old
     - As the Earth spins around
     - As we hold to the love
     - To which we all are bound.

          I don't want to leave the party,
          We're all having too much fun.
          Yet while smiling we'll still disappear
          Now that the play is closed and done.
          I don't want to leave the party,
          But I'll go, with all my friends
          Who knows what's waiting just outside
          When the spell of living softly ends?


Details | Free verse | |

My Yesterday

These memories flooding my head
catching me off guard
running after my each tread
leaving me scarred
as I walk across this thread 
that's leading me away from the past
which is longing to get ahead.

I'm struggling within
these thoughts whirling in my mind
trying to get past, yet I'm falling behind.

I'm falling off this thread 
that keeps me going
sinking in this moment
from these thoughts over flowing
I'm not able to let go of this past
not able to chase time, moving so fast.

I'm living in my yesterday
as the world goes on
leaving me behind
with only this memory to lean upon.


Details | Kyrielle | |

I'm Lost America Freedom

<                              in this land of milk and honey
                                want my world be nice and sunny
                                but for others what will that cost
                                when their freedom does become lost


                                losing sight of eagles that soar
                                burrying feet in sandy shores
                                calling prision guards the boss
                                when their freedom does become lost



                                not hearing an morning doves coo
                                capturing spring buds dripping dew
                                smelling mama's spagetti sauce
                                when their freedom does become lost



                               intake views of an sno-capped peak
                               playing childs game of hide and seek
                               bunkmate to someone who's name ross
                               when their freedom does become lost



                               rocking a child fast off to sleep
                               safeguarding them from many creeps
                               all head can do is turn and toss 
                               when their freedom does become lost




Entry For Dane Ann Smith -Johnsen's
America The Melting Pot For Freedom's Contest
G.L. All


Details | Free verse | |

The Day my Daughters Grow Up

Yesterday
I could see their births as if it was just
Yesterday
A time when all I knew was love 
Yesterday
I’d no thought for tomorrow, just the day
Yesterday
How they changed the world in every way
Yesterday

Little smiles
How they melted this man, their father’s heart
Little girls
How they instantly became a needed part
Little hands
That held tightly to the palm of mine
Little babies
How they’ll always be this man’s sunshine
Little girls

But when they grow up
 I’ll be so sad…
My world will then lose 
the babies I had…
I’ll have just the memories 
of their touch…
The day my daughters… 
grow up…

Maybe
They’ll never fall in love with any boy
Maybe
But, then they’ll never learn of all that joy
Maybe 
They’ll wait until they reach old forty two
Maybe
But, that’s a dream that won’t come true
Maybe

But when they grow up
 I’ll be so sad…
My world will then lose 
the babies we had…
I’ll have just the memories 
of their touch…
The day my daughters… 
grow up…

One day I will walk them down the aisle
They’ll look at me with that little girl smile
I’ll do everything to hold back the tears
Forced by the memories of all their years

The day my daughters… 
grow up…

One day
When I am old and they come to visit me
One day
I’ll still see them as kids, though with families
One day
Despite age, they’ll always be my little girls
One day
Is every day that I’m alive in this world
One day

The day my daughters… 
grow up…
Is the day, 
I’ll grow up…too


Details | Free verse | |

Destined To Dust

It's The Hardest To Write When There's
Nothing But Momentum Driving The Misery.

                            - Every Single Day is The Same -

Each Limb Protruding From My Torso, Which
May as Well Just Be Headless Flesh and Muscle.
 
                            - Wouldn't Make a Difference -

I am Destined To Dust, as are We all, The Impact
I Have Created Will Follow Me Only To Soil.

                            - The Decaying of Empathy-

Every Particle, Every Fibre of My Entity Screams
At The Exact Same Time With The Same Voice. 

                            - Somebody Set Me Free -

"Dont You Get It Boy?" They Scream To Me, "Don't
You Get It? We are Nothing, You... are Nothing"

                            - ...Without Her -

Time Seems to Ten Fold The Scenarios I Create 
So Speedily, Causing Small Cracks To Appear Vast.

                            - All Cavernous and Crumbling -

Walking Past Pictures of Your Childhood, Hands All
Covered in Cloudy Residue, Wondering Where it Went.

                             - You Have Nothing -

To Fall From Grace You Must First Reach it, But I can't
Hold Myself Accustomed To Such a Privilege, Not Yet.

- Maybe Death Will Verify My Existence -

- Just Like She Did -


Details | Rhyme | |

Always the same

I remember the smiles
From a thousand miles,
The crowd that gathered,
The smiling baby to be fathered,
The blessings made,
That their hopes do not fade,
I heard the general chorus,
The strength, the happiness, the force.
But a different group,
Came in a huge troop,
All, new faces of a different birth,
To witness a fallen strength.


Details | Sonnet | |

Times Three

You are but a noun do you know?
Inside of you lie me, myself, and I.
Residing in light of your naked eye,
This is how divine seeds sow a row.
 
Sown high or low,
So do not be shy.
And do not sigh.
And never, let go.
 
Orient yourself times three,
To person place and time!
You are rooted like a tree,
And it is secured to climb!
 
Who is that light form living inside of you?
And who is that silent one that you talk to?
 
 
®Registered: Ann Rich   2006


Details | Personification | |

Drawn in Harmony

The phrase "Music to my ears" has been injected toward the 
wrong part of my body, and most unpleasantly personified. 
There is a record player that I let skip and scratch on purpose, hearing 
colorful sound of life back when truth kept us both inside the lines. 
I thought order was helping me draw closer to you, while you began on the next 
page without me. The needle digs it's way into my ape-shaped forearm. 
I'm directed by the guitar string shaped veins 
that only play notes in the keys of D# E# A# F# and the sharp sounds pierce 
my perception to the point I can hardly hear your voice anymore. 

At times, listening to the same old sad song on repeat makes me think
that I am just an old soul getting repeatedly tossed around in God's 
big barrel of human paradox. "Lord what was I made for? Surely it wasn't 
to repeat the mistakes of my forefathers, because I'm certain I am the 
only one you molded with forearms so large, that the record got lost 
and forgot how to spin in circles. Music is all about art, and art all about 
perception. Perception has nothing to do with your eyesight, and 
you use your ears to envision the painting on a blank canvas before picking 
anything else up but sound waves. I drive myself crazy sometimes when 
I think that my inspiration is speeding away from me in the 
opposite lane, but I didn't even ask for directions. Mostly because I'm a man, 
a stubborn one at that, and I always think I know where I'm going. 
But this time, I swear I had gotten the map right. So I transformed my open 
hands into tight fists to make music burst out of my arms, and the needle went 
faster and faster until it broke off, and the high pitched vibration 
disintegrated the steel into my own blood. I blame myself for letting this 
be the first time to let myself draw some air into my body. A surgery of 
scalpels cutting into my physical, and an orchestral symphony of sutures, 
threading my life back together again. My blue blood turns crimson as it kisses the air. 
Why do we associate the color red with life and vibrancy, when it clearly shows that we are letting our own blood run down our arms? Why do so many women where red lipstick; the kind that sticks to your collar, screaming to your wife that you clearly sinned? 
Why do we see sin so clearly; transparent enough for others to correct us before we really we even grasp the desire to fix ourselves? AND WHY IN THE WORLD IS THIS MUSIC PLAYING SO LOUDLY NOW; when my needle broke off into my body a long time ago, and I can hardly hear you anymore.
Good thing my life's song still isn't completely written yet. Let's add a more positive climax to this. One drawn in harmony.


Details | Verse | |

Winter has a face contest

She wakes from a dream, dripping with tears of sweat pouring down her face.  Her long blonde hair is pasted to her forehead as she sits up in her bed.  The clock reads 3:03am.  Her heart is pounding rhythmically to the ticking of her wrist watch.  Her long legs that are wrapped in her white down comforter are extremely cold, and she realizes that a harsh draft is seeping through the window sill beside her bed.  As she pulls back the curtains to check the window for cracks in the ledge, her eyes grow wide with amazement.  The street lights reveal swirls of frosted confetti which overwhelm the pitch blackness of the night.  It has not snowed this hard since she was a little girl and suddenly the terror of her dream dissipates.  She jumps out of bed, slips on her purple fuzzy slippers, along with her matching robe and runs down the stairs.

The stars glisten
Illuminating shadows-
Icicles hang still

Her front door swings open from the harsh embrace of the wind and she manages to drift on to her porch.  Her foot prints smear the freshly painted deck but they are quickly filled up again by the urgency of heavens winter release.  Her eyes begin to spill like water falls and her rosy face along with the rest of her body goes numb. However, the arctic chill was worth it to her.  The last time she had seen her father was on a night like this.  He loved the snow and every part of its splendor reminded her of him. The howling in the air, the cold that cut through her pajama pants like a knife, the snowflakes the size of marshmallows and the cars that look like giant igloos.  Even the smell of the wood burning across the street in her neighbor’s fireplace all made her feel like her father was near. It was like heaven had stopped by to visit her this night.

By: Sabina Nicole
Contest: winter


Details | Free verse | |

asking

All the things you should know
All the swings you’ve taken on me
But haven’t noticed at all
And there goes the things you won’t know

Can’t you see all I got to tell you?
Can’t you tell just by the sound of my steps?
And as it seems you won’t notice at all
And I won’t tell you, not now, not tomorrow

Till you notice what have you done
How does that stomping on my dreams
Dragging all I know down
What I thought was concrete now is just flour on the floor.

So by now all I got to tell you
Is, ask me please
Just the right time, the right words and everything fine.
And it seems that here I’ll be for eons

With all this around me
And you don’t seem to care
You don’t care at all
With my broken past, and you can’t see it 

And there it goes my hope
Within this forest I don’t see a way out
And guarding what’s left it’s all I have.

And still you don’t care.

~Anna


Details | Free verse | |

The Flood

How little the clouds think when they glow white
forming shapes tossing about
when filled with moisture oh how grey they will be
until they shed themselves of this heaviness
like a heart in love skips a beat
but when broken you can literally drown you see


Then those tears oh how they flow
how is it possible to love someone so
and they think of you as the lowest of low
others say they have loved many and the feeling soon goes
I want to ask them;
are you sure you were truly in love
because I would have no time in my life 
to do this over and over again

It is there trapped inside of me
no matter what they do or how little they show
I still love them with everything I am and know
oh sure I have loved and do love
they come and they go
but I find it impossible for someone to move on
if they have been in love with their true soul
it is different and as those heavy grey clouds
fills so full and sometimes it has to just explode
shedding tears of what it has found
oceans, lakes, streams, and creeks were formed
all because a cloud was filled with all that is moist

My heart is full of love and when they need me I come forth
but all through the day it is that one I think of
if only they could see this or that joy
how I wish they were here for more than myself
I would love to give them all of this love
until then I am a heavy cloud waiting to explode
knowing they will never come
but even though they let me go
it is them I love
my five senses I wait to share in joy
to grow old loving life in their arms
instead of always patching up this arc in my flood


Bear with me, I am having a life change and caught up in it. Thank you to whomever helped get my other poem featured. I was very excited to see my name. lol The poem was an emotional one however. lol The truth but very emotional, as you see I am emotional on everything. lol So thanks, and please don't be too hard on me. :D


Details | Sonnet | |

sonnet 2013

I raised my pen in hope of a new thought,
When an idea struck me much joy it brought,
As a sonnet i wish to carry forth,
In dark some night, it shines bright as a torch;

If only love could be a fairytale, 
On a beautiful yacht we both would sail,
Under the starry heavens filled with stars,
Deep in thoughts thinking about how you are;

I turn to you and gaze into your eyes, 
To know that love is not another lie,
A sonnet i completed with much ease,
I felt relieve as love would never cease...


Details | I do not know? | |

Season In Reflection

Chase not what was autumn time,
Its vibrant colors that had once adorned.
Now fades away as the winter mourns.
But to savour thoughts like a fine old wine.

Across valley deep over moors and hill,
The Norse wind on his steed doth roar.
Through nook and cranny and frame of door,
With breath of ice like steel.

Ice maid for you enchant us so,
As you lay your cloak of winter down.
Across sleepy hamlets and the bustling towns,
Vestige remnants of the year now go.

© N Windle 2009


Details | Quatrain | |

"Hope" - A Star For Me

When parents don't have a choice and die
And all alone survive the loss
As I lie down to sleep at night 
They send in dreams... A Star For Me...

When Motherhood gets disappointing
And all alone survive the loss
I borrow scissors from my heart
With trembling hands I cut... A Star For Me

When trains don't stop and soul mate's gone
And all alone survive the loss
I row my boat on lakes with moons,
I jump and catch reflections of... A Star For Me

When I am old, and years fly by
And all alone survive the loss
I won't be sad, would even smile
As I lie down, a final sight... 
                                  ...A Star For Me...               


For John Heck's Contest "Blink"                 

www.scripca.com


Details | Free verse | |

Christmas delights!

Clouds garland snow capped mountain peak
Icy snow butterflies melt kisses upon my nose
Puffs of warm, moist breath balloons billow out before me,
quickly chilling, disappearing before my eyes
Crunching snow compacts beneath booted feet
Prints set deep, little more than momentary reminder 
of where you have stepped before
Crisp white blanket glints
almost winking it’s Christmas card welcome
as it’s vast white carpet spreads before you beckoning 
All of nature along with everything manmade becomes anew
Nothing seems out of place
A bird lands on branch of tree causing cascade of padded canopy
New mound takes position with little noticed effect on perfect landscape

Children laugh and run as they hurl packed balls at one another
Dashing, darting, ducking and returning rogue ammunition
to offending hand and screams of pleasure
Slipping, falling they tumble over repeatedly 
Waving arms and legs, when finally still to create snow angels
Then, standing up clothed as abominable snowman
Giving rise to fresh ideas as new creation begins with rolling snow
Bigger and bigger they chase and push, packing tight as they go
Another ball a little smaller to place on top of first for head
Then off they scatter in all directions looking to clothe their model
Returning with woollen hat scarf 
carrot and stones to place as eyes nose and mouth with button features
Admiring they know their masterpiece shall be short-lived
For mother nature’s hand will chance to create another slushy muddy puddle


Details | Senryu | |

Holiday Frolics

Holiday Frolics
Shoppers walk to tunes;
Mall’s cacophony rings loud,
Santa listens well.


Details | Clerihew | |

We can swim beyond the storms

Unknown friend immerses 
In my fullerene verses,   
And finds four allotropes forms… 
We can swim beyond the storms.


Details | Free verse | |

SUCH HASTE, SUCH WASTE


Brother, why the haste
why are you so quick to bail
how life has made you frail
why art thou so lean in faith


Desires of sodom, you chase
till you wear and rot to waste.
The truths of life you dare not face
you cower behind the shell of race
and bequeath to it,the fortune of your days


Oh Sister, why the haste
this phase you crave
is soiled with fray
this course you chart
is fraught with chains


Are you numb to the flames;
that chars the face with pains
that lays in wait, in ways
unseen to sight and gaze


You fill your pate with tales of hate
and lose your fate in pits of vale


The weight of your plate
is filled with kills of kin
why the haste, brother
why the waste, sister?


Details | Limerick | |

Super Bowl Sunday

Statistical Sunday that starts fights
Along with bringing many delights
One simple cowhide ball
So called centralized thrall
Bringing outward competitive rights


Written for

Sponsor Royal Trevino 
Contest Name SUPER BOWL SUNDAY! **LIMERICK** or **HAIKU** 


Details | Rhyme | |

Live it out differently

How grand it would be to return to the days of our teens. The time we thought was 
never going to end, when we couldnt wait for our future to begin. Feeling shackled 
and chained to parents that we could only blame, for the hell we felt our life seemed 
to be, how truly clueless were we? To not know those days would always be such 
long ago distant memories. Our firsts in mostly everything from kisses to heartbreak 
to driving a car we couldnt wait till we would step foot into a bar. Grown ups is what 
we yearned to be, living on our own, finally free. If only we knew how important 
those moments we were making memories would turn out to be, do you think we 
would live it all out differently?


Details | Elegy | |

My Kashmir Burns (Part 1)

I picture Kashmir through lightened KL. News of another massacre darkens my eyes
Winds are thirsty there. They continue to taste the young blood.
I groom myself with exquisite things,
Sipping ice tea in ac room, I comfort myself
And Kashmir burns. Kashmir set ablaze

I can smell the warm blood of beaten corpse
Where from winds bought this smell. Somewhere Karbala reborn.
Mosques are being slammed
There windows stoned. And the black boots leave their footprints on Mimber
Even God judges on evidence
There is one Imaam left now; he hides her daughters in his shadow
A blunt knife in his hands; soon he will sacrifice them to keep their innocence
Kashmir is burning. Kashmir is bleeding
And I write.

Army jeep chases the tracks. To find the associated bodies
They are alive now. Soon they will be dead
From Patan to Sopor, And in narrow passages of nostalgic downtown
Ghosts of curfew
Haunt the houses for young souls.

From the Kupwara cantonments, search lights chase emptiness
Nothing is left now. Search lights can’t see inside the graves
A boy there went missing for two days. His father starts digging his grave.
I put my earphones on and I close my eyes. I sleep
While my Kashmir is ablaze
“It’s me poor farmer’s son. Kupwara’s charm, I feel no pain”.
I see him so alive in my dreams.
He chants songs of Mahjoor from his burnt lips. My hands shiver. He has no finger nails.
I see his smoke tanned skin. Same as that of Khayam’s barbeques
He stands at a distance from me. I can still smell kerosene
“Tell my mother to let her heart become cold. Her heart will not bear my state.
Tell my mother to let her eyes become blind. Her eyes will not withstand my sight.”
I follow him towards his tortured body. He tells me to follow the spilled blood.
His blood has made its own Jhelum. I row on it. Until it gets lost in black boots
The story will turn into legend. I find his body no more.

On the streets silence prevails. Nobody has permission to wail.
Sisters are beatifying coffins while brothers look for stones.
For bullets there will be stones
Kashmir is ablaze. She is wailing in grotesque tones.
In Lal Ded hospital a new born cries: Father register me at cantonment then take me out
Death is recruiting in dozens at a time.
Tomorrow is curfew. Death has no curfew pass.
How they want to identity you. Becomes your identity
People burn up all you identity cards.


Details | Free verse | |

First star to your empty Night

I want a love that
fills my veins like
liquid fireworks
sweet like sugar and 
cinnamon
strong enough to knock
me off my feet, like a 
mighty ocean wave, yet
gentle and magic
like the forgotten lyrics
to a nursery rhyme

I want our spirits to soar
into a bright forever
like two yellow balloons
released, by the
tiny, sticky hands
of a little child
I want, my man, to know
my true self
like the words to a favorite
song on the radio
to feel me, all that is me
rhythm bound from a beaten
street drummer

I wish to be a bright guiding light
as the first star
to your empty night
A familiar love, as
traveling back to a childhood spot
your first love kiss...
first bully fight...
first playground crush lost...

I want a love
that encompasses
my senses, envelopes me
from nothing, like the
steam from my rose petal tea
filling my pores
leaving me
rejuvenated and refreshed

A love, whom steals my worries
as a thief in the night
and greets me with doe- eyed
kisses, once rounding
up a fight

I speak these words into the 
universe, to send me a love
to call my own
what path will my soul mate
travel to me, mysterious 
mystical journey unknown


Details | Haiku | |

colors of freedom

colors of freedom
remind us what wars have cost --
we must not forget


Details | Haiku | |

Le Vacance Pretentieuse: Storm Part VI

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


Details | Sonnet | |

When You Left

When you left, the lights faded
The blue skies turned grey
When you left, my emotions died
I thought I’d never survive that day
When you felt the curtains closed
And the stage faded to black
When you left, life strangled itself
And hope hid between heartbreak and despair
When you left, every image blurred.


But that spark remained alight
A tiny reminder of life’s resurrection
The sky turning back to blue
The reopening of the curtains to a lighted stage
A possibility, a tiny jest of instinct
In my mind I met you halfway
But my heart held back astride
For when you left, it died.


Details | Rhyme | |

First Love

In the instant of a second, I just always knew.
A flickering flame I caught in the eye of you.
 
A feather in the wind and on my last breath,
A deeper breeze of Sunsets at night’s death,
 
A Star beams on the Moon and lights up the sky.
I am in a wonderland amazed at just how high.
 
Lo and behold, it comes to me at the end.
My first love left me His message to send.
 
Look up and you shall see me at night,
Look down and I am out truly of sight.
 
Hold on to the very end for I am near,
It’s my voice in your heart you’ll hear.
 
Take one breath or even two,
I am the one always with you!
 
 
®Registered: Ann Rich   2006
 


Details | Free verse | |

Scratch Paper

Sometimes I sit here and I wonder,
how long have I been here?
With the words of a ghost rotting my tongue,
exhaling phantoms who hang over my shoulders;
they offer a smoky hand.
I could take it and escape.
Instead I try to stay seated, unmoving, tired.
My limbs feel too heavy to move.
Sometimes I get a sense of the world beyond 
the confines of my mind, I think, I remember.
I’ve lost count of the days and hours
too many seconds becoming minutes.
My head hurts, so I exhale.
I try to reconnect to my body,
are you out there waiting for this?
My words are building up
so many scratch pieces of paper surround me
Come read them, remember me. Find me.


Details | Free verse | |

An unravelling of time

Time
Is a measure of existence
Where we all play our part
Looking back and looking forward
We live so much and imagine so much
Sketching life on our minds and our hearts
Sometimes we break 
And we think we are- Irreparable
But somehow -
We move through time 
Changing and shaping 
This way and that – from darkness to light
Shedding off the old 
Birthing the new into existence – we didn’t know was beyond-Times portals
Here we explore the supernatural world of promise- at the Kings command
We enjoy a Kingdom of priceless worth - it outshines times wrappings 
Time that is slowly unraveling
Being discarded on the pile -
Of a past life.

© Brenda V Northeast 30th August 2012


Details | Free verse | |

My Soul, Crouching

Crouching beneath the oak tree, 
The calico cat waits.
A happy squirrel frolics above.
Then, the predator springs into action.

Enjoying peace beneath the oak tree.
Raking the leaves, happy hopes rise.
Prayerfully remembering God above. 
Embracing Mother Earth.
Watching butterflies in action –
Life colors, like the calico cat, decorate.
God’s bountiful blessings flood my heart.
Fragrance springs thoughts to the past.
Nostalgia frolics into my imaginings –
Then, come recollections. 

Reality never waits for happiness.
Dreading the predator.
Joy flees like a squirrel escaping. 
My soul, crouching, cries.

© March 15, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen


Details | Free verse | |

Winter Beach

After the rain, 
the speckled glint of shimmering sand
is now muddy brown.
Like a blind, closed tight on the warmth of summer,
the winter beach has shrunken in,
changing the colours of my day into
a darker palette, shades of grey.
The sun shriveled
pale faced and worn
as the cold season begins.

Seagulls a beacon
against a slate November sky
their sound, comfort to a lonely beach.
The steps down to the water, pea green,
slimy weed on stone
bright against an ink-rippled tide.

Seaweed colours bleed into my mind while
textures playfully mingle.
The salt air stings my nostrils
caresses my lungs with wellness.
Sea sounds carry from the shores of Wales
as I crunch the length of the ebbing milk tide.

I look to the horizon and imagine another me
walking a beach somewhere over there,
listening to my thoughts, 
as they channel the sea
Grateful for this beauty, the gift of the nature
I look over my shoulder, my footprints remain
solid, as in a freshly cemented path
their sound, echoes in the shells.


Details | Free verse | |

When No Star Shined

Once, when no star shined
on slick, black, asphalt roads,
the murky wetness
of November's watered nights
a freedom-feeling and
strangeness-sense inspired.
The moisture lubricated
sluggish mental cogs that
all the dirty, dry, autumnal season
had rusted tight and atrophied.
Wildness no man can tell
I knew then.
All November's labored length
my nightly notions filled:
my bacchic spirit soared and flew,
traveled far, saw much in waking dream,
along a single street, wet
and splotched with light from cars
which coughed their fumes
as they passed my momentary immortality.
And now...
time has come when I no longer
feel delight to revel in the wildness
that I knew:
senses, now subordinate to sense,
defuse the spell
and November nights are merely
murky.


Details | Rhyme | |

Paper Thin

Your paper-thin porcelain skin,
I know how to get right under it.
For kicks is why I do it now.
You tell me to love but I never knew how.
Our feet hitting pavement,
We spent the day in sunny California with sun kissed skin.
I’m learning to forget and how to fade scars,
And you let me let myself down so hard.

Your paper-thin porcelain skin,
I know how to get right under it.
And now I just do it for smiles,
We’ll never see flower girls stumbling down aisles.
I’d lose my head just before that chance,
But if you want we can still have a first dance.
Cause I think I say things that I don’t mean,
Once upon a time you meant the world to me.

Your paper-thin porcelain skin,
I know how to get right under it.
But I’m trying to refrain,
To make this not all end up in vain.
Maybe I can learn to love like some people do,
And you can learn to love yourself a little too.
Or it is in all fairness to let this go?
I guess we can try but then we’ll never know. 


Details | Rhyme | |

Full House

Naughty little brother hitting people just for fun,
Soppy little sister snuggles up to harassed mum,
While other sister Lesley thinks she’s in a royal court,
And “Ten Ton Tim” throws the tennis balls he’s bought,
One hits little Lesley on the head with quite a force,
She storms off to her room, in a nark again of course,
She slams the door behind her once she’s made her way upstairs,
And then there’s the twins, I know that trouble comes in pairs,
Michael’s riding Richard with his undies on his head,
While Craig from down the road is wearing swimming trunks instead,
“Ten Ton Tim” then offers the other boys a fight,
One which probably won’t finish until very late at night
“You and Craig onto me!”; a tempting offer to the boys,
Who start to rush towards him brandishing their army-toys,
Lesley reappears from the dark behind the door,
Intending not carry on moaning any more,
Dad is quite sensible at stays at work ‘til dark,
I think it’s more crowded here than in Noah’s Ark.
Mother calls for quite but the noise just carries on,
‘Til Craig suggests they go to his and then the rabble’s gone!




(Written at the age of 9 or 10)


Details | Rhyme | |

An Amulet of Peace

An amulet of peace hung ‘round my neck,
An AR16 rifle in my hands….
Seemed like such a paradox,
In the paddies and jungles of Vietnam.

An amulet of peace hung ‘round my neck,
A man’s life was in my hands….
That life was not only mine,
While trying to survive in Vietnam.

An amulet of peace hung ‘round my neck,
Hoping for guidance by God’s hand….
Ignore our sin, keep us alive and safe,
While fighting in Vietnam.

An amulet of peace hung ‘round my neck,
My duffel bag in my hand….
After 13 months, I was going home,
No more to fight in Vietnam.

An amulet of peace hung ‘round my neck,
An Honorable Discharge in my hand….
Only to be spat upon, called ‘baby killer’,
By ‘peaceniks’ against the war in Vietnam.

An amulet of peace no longer hung ‘round my neck,
The challenge of a new life was at hand….
Found love, happiness and some success,
And tried not to think of Vietnam.

Again, that same amulet of peace hangs ‘round my neck;
And I hope my friends all understand….
I want our courageous young men and women
Out of Iraq and Afghanistan.


Details | Free verse | |

A Poem for her Majesty the Queen on her Jubilee


To be English above all is not just a given, from the beginnings of time to the new world position.

It is of bravery and honour that has built the empire we know, that no matter what we may face no matter how big the enemy or challenge we will not quiver we shall not shudder nor walk away, our upper lip will remain stiff and the lions heart our enemy will feel in protection of Queen and country.

In a world of corruption and deceit, floundering morals as sources try to wash them away, inside this mayhem will always lay a loyal army to her Majesty and country that will fight tooth and nail to protect.
No matter the hatred or non believers we shall not fall. 

The most powerful family in the world that has ruled through generations of change and is echoed through the story of time this is my promise to you your Majesty we will always be here waiting on your every word to follow and serve as your loyal army. 

May GOD save the Queen and protect her people through time,
For we are ENGLAND . .  full of love . . . full of Pride! 


Details | Triolet | |

The Balloon Vendor

(Triolet)
A tribute to the “Balloon Man” by Rose Fyleman 


He comes market to sell balloons.
Red, pinks and purple, blue and greens. 
O, they shine nice in the sun soon.
He comes market  to sell balloons.
And seems to forget lunch at noon.
Balloons are just tied in a string. 
He comes  market to sell balloons.
Red, pinks and purple, blue and greens. 



Details | Haiku | |

Cherry Blossoms Jamboree

Cherry blossoms bloom; the townspeople sing, laugh, dance: hope springs eternal.


Details | Quatrain | |

The Beat Goes On

Grandma was German raised to value beauty,
her art found in nature the flowers and the trees. 
Grandpa, a Wentworth, from an English family
whose Great Grand sailed the Mayflower, across the sea.

In the time of William Morris, when craft was art,
Great Granddad was a shipwright that's how we got our start.
So, we valued craft and beauty and adventure charted. 
Through tough times, poverty, still wisdom was imparted. 

Born in a place of splendor miles from the bay, 
Mom was raised on the poetry of Edna Millay.
I was born there to and in the woods I played
amongst maidenhair ferns and violets unafraid. 

In art born, with brush and pen, often did I write,
raised on Lord Tennyson to great my delight.
And, I adored the architecture of Frank Lloyd Wright
how he blended craftsmanship into each homesite.

Schooled in modern art Warhol and Mies Van De Rhoe,
my mind opened blooming to many new tableaus.
All my contemporaries were part of art neuvau.
Each masterly artisan's work helped me to grow


Details | Haiku | |

Le Vacance Pretentieuse: Storm Part V

The English weather:
Rainclouds follow us from home
There is no escape.


Details | Personification | |

Lady Luck

I am way up,
I am way down,
I am all of the way around.
I am your Lady Luck!
I am right here,
I am right there,
I completely care,
I hold zero fear.
I am always in,
I am always out,
I am here again,
I am Heaven’s great big shout.
I am mother struck,
With Lady Luck!
 
 
© Copyright: Ann Rich   2006


Details | Free verse | |

My Mama

My Mama she trips out in the moon light
when I’m safely tucked up in bed
she dresses to wow her audience
but I know not of her occupation
when I ask I am greeted by silence
and then “You will understand when you grow up”

My Mama she returns at break of day
before the curtains begin to twitch or draw
she’ll come in exhausted and fix my breakfast
then checking in on me she’ll wake me for school
before she goes off to bed – she’ll see me later
to ask about my day and play

A Mamas kiss, a smile, a hug, warmth, food and a roof
Yet when we go out together people turn 
to talk to one another, quietly nodding
Funny looks are cast our way and yet not one shall speak to us
Aged nine in school I find out why 
when another child will laugh

“Ya Mama works the streets
lies on her back, watches the sky – to feed ya
-Tis what my Ma said”
It makes me cry
I love my Mama
but this shame hurts

I want to die…


Details | Lyric | |

The Moment of Atonement

My Dear World,
I owe you an apology;

Forgive me
for I have distorted thee:
lying passionately,
I failed to accept you
by chimera deceptional
I wanted to surmount you
believing myself
to be exceptional.

Forgive me My World
my bitterness,
narcissism
and selfishness;
for a fool I was
since the truth 
was consciously unknown to me
thus calamitious the discovery would be.

Please forgive me
all the souls my ambition eradicated,
all the feelings my sharp tongue destroyed,
all the emotions my cold heart repudiated,
for how much all those deeds I enjoyed.

I was then infected;
the infection seemed incurable
as I wanted it to be -
or wasn't I aware how diseased I was?

My Dear World,
I owe you an apology;

Forgive me
my blindness
to the beauty of life;

With myself in centre
I would not look around
for distorted was my perception
by a deceitful projection
of perfect me in faulty universe.



My Dear World,

Thank you
for
instant recovery of my senses,
the wisdom you blessed me with,
the pain myself was redefined through.

Yester year
I reached the deepest depth
slowly losing my pride -
my psyche was nearing death
in plight I could hardly abide -
I understood a mere human I am.

Now I laugh
enjoying my life
every day forsooth
heartily 
and with ruth.



Thank you
My Dear World
Please, forgive me.


Details | Rhyme | |

What is Christmas Really About

Quickly is coming Christmas day,
Perhaps you ponder with dismay
Amidst the shopping and the shouts,
What is Christmas really about?
 
Is it about reindeer and elves,
The gifts we wish for ourselves?
Is it about wrapping paper and bows,
Stockings stuffed with goodies clear to the toes?

Is it about family, friends, and feast,
The smell of bread baking rising with yeast?
About trees, lights, and cute decorations,
Parties, eggnog, and celebrations?

These commodities make the holiday bright,
But something else is required to make it right;
For Christmas is not about programs and costumes worn,
But about a miraculous baby that was born.

About Mary and Joseph, man and wife,
Who came to Bethlehem pregnant with life.
No room was left for them in the inn,
Shelter was found in a cattle pen.

The time of her delivery would not waiver,
In that stable she experienced labor.
Born into a place smelling of manure,
Christ arrived our salvation to assure.

Nearby shepherds tending flocks by night
Were startled by a glorious light.
Angels while seeking to calm their fear
Came proclaiming this event of cheer.

Told of a birth of a baby boy,
A king, a savior, who would bring joy.
His mission was one of peace,
From our sins to bring release.

Then with haste they went with glee,
Marveled at what they did see;
Found him in a manger yet filled with glory
Then left with excitement to tell his story.

So as we gather this December
May this jingle help us remember,
Christmas is not about dear old Santa Claus
But about the Christ who saves us from our flaws.



Details | I do not know? | |

Seasons

I've had so many seasons, and seeds I've had to sow,
winter seasons of dryness, where nothing seems to grow,
rainy seasons of sadness, where tears just flow and flow,
sunny seasons of joy, where love begins to show.
Throughout the seasons of my life, Jesus held my hand,
and brought me through each one of them, and taught me how to stand.


Details | Free verse | |

Louisiana

Heading east, after Arizona,
through New Mexico and
past the wide Lone Star state,
greens shade from dull to bright --
the desert was pale pastels
and heat devoid of moisture.
Here, humid bayou flora flourish
in black and steamy soil
where hurricanes hit the coast,
winds flatten sugar cane,
and two rich-brown nutrias
cross a placid canal.
Their wakes, on the still surface,
are clean, and nearly perfect,
inverted V's.


Details | Bio | |

When Kingdom Comes




         ********

We are all Welcome
      To His Kingdom
When the Kingdom
        Shall Come'
          - Fore -
It is what we truly seek
From the Heaven's Above
          ------
        High and Low
  We brave Tribulation
  As steady as we be
     As the Cold Wind blow
As steady as we go
         -------
 Beseeching our Destiny
          ------
Doing our Pennants'
Destined to be free...
      -----
And the Cold Wind
     Doth' blow you know


AS Faith in the Lord' 
        Doth' grow
Far removing us from
         Freedoms' pain
As we pay our Solitary Tributes'
          To the Lord
    Just the same..
As we thank Him for every-thing
           ------
Blessed be Thy Lord
Blessed be Thy Name

              Amen


                GF






Details | I do not know? | |

Senorita Sorrow ( Spanish Rain )

Any teardrops that I can borrow?
In those Spanish eyes of yours
In those big brown Spanish eyes
of yours
 
 
Senorita Sorrow
Can you run away with me tomorrow?
We can chase our dreams around
And make love
And start wars
In those Spanish eyes of yours
In those big brown Spanish eyes
of yours
 
You have never lived
It's very hard to explain
I got lost in Senorita Sorrow
somewhere in San Sebastian, Spain
somewhere in her Spanish eyes
somewhere in the Spanish rain
 
We had the time of our lives
But she cried there on the train
She couldn't hold back the pain
She knew there was no tomorrow
My Sweet Senorita Sorrow
As she stepped out into the 
Mid-September Spanish Rain





Details | I do not know? | |

The Fourth Of July: A Lie 'or The Star Spangled Banner

We clad ourselves in colors as we march,
saluting independence through a foggy dream;
gazing at the night alight with flashes,
sparkles,
and firefly screams.

Rockets made in China, cascade/
to the backdrop of the Star Spangled Banner;
a flutter to the wind blown flags made in Brazil
and "I Love America Pins" upon our lapel;
(made in Mexico).

We stand on oceanfront (it’s owned by France)
gazing ‘pon the open sea,
the port is owned by Saudis/
but at least we stand here free.

Our hands steadfast upon our chest,
saluting whichever freedoms still remain,
those freedoms, their going fast;
and they’ll disappear one day.

We gaze into the abyss of night,
the twinkling tears that kiss our cheek,
immersing ourselves in awe of moment,
before it fades our dreams to sleep.

We stand enamored with this land,
the love that lurks within our hearts,
we celebrate this love/
...in part;

fore tomorrow, standing is banned.


Details | Bio | |

A New Beginning




      ------

When I think of the time
      Called January 2011
I think about the people
Who had gone to Heaven?
      Just before Me
To greet the Father and the
         Holy Son
       ---------
With full disclosure
    Of the Spirit
With a total dispensation
       From God
      --------
They left this World
They left for a new start
Leaving me behind
In the hands' of the Lord

      ------
Fore the Saviors' Kingdom
Where Restoration was part
Only due to the restoration
Restoration of the Heart....
       ------
In memory they must leave
The life and all of their love
That which was there....
In the Name of GOD
In the hands of loved one's
Many of whom...WHICH
I didn't understand
     ....Why?
      ------
Gone to be with Jesus'
Who is waiting there?
Where we shall all meet
      Some-where
And we all shall be there
And when it is time....
The time for Judgement 
    Hath come'
Then it is time for Judgement
        At the 'Cross Roads'
Where Life first begun..
And let Thy Will be done
In the name of the Father
        And the Son
And the Holy Ghost....
          Amen


                 GF


Details | Didactic | |

Second Thoughts

Why we always look away
From what our eyes desire to see?

Then we think
‘I should have…’

We look back
And we can’t see

It walked away -
We let it be

Why it always walks away
When we want to give a try?

We look back every day
And we pray for one last stand

Then we think back in regret
‘Why i hadn’t…’
Each time we cry

One day we will forget-
The day when we die


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Of A Still Winter's Morn

In stillness of a winter morn, A carriage passed me by, Treading a path old and worn, Upon it's wheels sore and dry; The air about had a listlessness, I heard no other noise Than the passing hooves of a steed, And my inner voice... No birds in trees about that house Whose porch I sat-in, ever spoke Early in that break of dawn, So I looked when the silence broke: A little distance away, and it Crawled to an awkward halt; The horse, giving a plunge in the air, Jerked and fumed in water and salt. Out came a lady old-- Worn as the wearied wheel-- Followed by the silken robes Of a beauty most surreal. In all youth then, i never saw A maiden so fair and pure; I watched in awe as the women both, Approached at my door. In ecstasy beheld my heart The temple of this Moon Shrouded by her hair, like night Working up a rune. Smiling, bowing graciously Like simmering warmth in the cold, She spoke to ask which way led To the house of(a name she told)... Still in awe, I arranged for chairs For my visitors to sit; Over cheerful cups of tea, I told what place was it. And before, they took my leave, I thought i had to say, ''Do stop-by this place Once more on thy way'': Those eyes passed a lively glance, As if to say, ''I will'', She finally left on her way And left me standing still... Bright was the day, and the next ones too-- I rested for the Dame: Spring and summer, winter came But she never came...


Details | Rhyme | |

Life

I do not long for yesterday no grief my soul can find
for everything is just in the end of our time
questions left unanswered can make you seek to find
but in the end it is our destiny that wins our mind

Life is a beautiful tragedy for goodness and glory are divine
how would we know how blessed we are if to hate we remain blind
it is only through those darkest days we truly learn to love our life
so as I lay my quill down finished with each dear line
I must instill in all love and honor will always remain firmly by your side




This is something I came to know in the last few weeks. Sometimes love has always been right beside you. It may be inside yourself. Grief makes us stronger and as they say time heals all wounds. One day you will wake happy and glad to love again. Stronger than before. It is not always easy to forgive those we love or love us, but take it from me it is worth it in the end. You will be so happy you did not break or turn to others. A new friend can not fix the problems in us only we can. When we see that we can be a friend and not just have them. I am proud to have been through hell and know I am finally free from my memories.


Details | Lyric | |

Thirteen Quart Weekend

There once was a time when that car wasn't mine.
And as far as I was concerned that was just fine.
But then I grew up and I wanted to drive.
And that first weekend made me feel so alive.

A 66 Chevy Impala, four door.
By a young man's standard's, it was something to adore.
But the engine leaked oil.
But my fun it wouldn't spoil.
13 quarts, she did drink those two days.

I know you would think that my heart would just sink.
But my Dad fixed her up in a blink.
An oil sending unit was what she did need.
To stop the incessant oil drinking greed.

I made some nice memories in that splendid car.
Just driving round town, didn't have to go far.
I sold her for just as much as I paid.
That car did me right, to just get betrayed.


Details | I do not know? | |

Under my 8 year old Brothers Bed

Under my 8 year old brothers bed
lies my dog chewed Barbie, no sign of her head
a faded Snoopy cartoon, deflated yellow Birthday balloon
and one stuffed zoo animal baboon
Romote toy car from Uncle Tom
Cassette of Raffi, sing-a-long songs
half a fruit roll-up, and a beat up
tonka truck

A wooden dream catcher, made in Summer camp
his moon and star shaped night lamp
one lonely brown button from his Winter coat
A crumpled crayon castle drawing, complete with
an alligator filled moat
A real rabbits foot, for luck, from Grandpa Mack
half a fourth of July sparkler, old fashioned box of jacks
glass jelly jars of grass, sticks, leaves, assorted bugs
science fair worm farm living in moms old Garden jug

Under my 8 year old brothers bed
it has to be said, if you find yourself lost 
beneath it
you are as good
as dead!


Details | Senryu | |

Waiting for the bell

The dank and dark room
While muttering students sit
Waiting for the bell


Details | Rhyme | |

Cure Mine of The Dark

You’ll write a beautiful melody,
If it’s truly from the heart.
So first I’ll find the remedy,
To cure mine of the dark.
But holy light and blind eyes,
Are keeping me apart,
From the answers, to the questions,
that are making things so hard.

Find me a sin,
You think that I wouldn’t commit.
And use it to begin,
To make me laugh again. 
Find me a loose end,
I don’t know how to tie.
Sometimes I wish for the truth,
But all I get are lies. 

I don’t need the good life,
I just want a sliver.
You say always go for gold but I,
I’m fine with a lining that’s silver.
I can live with a just a hand to hold,
But who could love a sinner?
Maybe I can hide inside the dark,
So turn the lights down dimmer. 

I said find me a sin,
You think that I wouldn’t commit.
And use it to begin,
To make me laugh again. 
Find me a loose end,
I don’t know how to tie.
Sometimes I wish for the truth,
But all I get are lies. 


Details | Monorhyme | |

Stolen Tears

her stolen tears fall in peace
veiled from a world that will not cease
her knitted brows now show their crease
as she weeps into her comforting fleece
nothing can slow their rapid increase
as they finally find their release…


~Inspired by the wonderful Monorhyme by Nette Onclaud "Black Tears"~

Nette,
You are an amazing poet and you are missed here every day.
I hope that these words find you well and that you will be back 
to inspire more of us here at the Soup!


Details | Rhyme | |

Monet Skies

No greater love than in my heart for this I always knew from the very start no mountain too tall to climb knowing one day you would be mine my version of Monet skies the pride of my two turquoise eyes lying down upon blades of grass gently sir, caress my breast my heart has held you forever in its grasp please love me with passion as I bestow romance this love I know puts me deep within a trance I pray Dear Lord for love to last


Details | Rhyme | |

Perfidy to the Fidelity

I see perfidy to the fidelity which is replete of your treachery 
Too bad we ain’t cool, because for you was a melody 
About the despicable ingredients that thrive back then
To create aspersions for my heart to grow fat in
You having a back of mine was thought to be perpetual 
From grabbing the horns, I saw it was all bull
So when I manifest this light, you shouldn’t be in my sight
I’m watching my own back when you enter a fight
No more under the timber, will my name be in December
Forgive and forget the final Thursday of November
Perfidy to the fidelity, I’ll always remember 


Details | Rhyme | |

My FAVORITE Classic TV Show


My Favorite Classic T.V. Show A classic t.v. show that I thought was fun and silly. Was one I watched as a child: “The Beverly Hillbillies.” There was Jed. Granny. Jethro and Elly May too. You just didn’t know what these folks were going to do! Granny would offer possum pie or some “vittles.” There was no tellin’ what she was fixin’ in her griddle! This family would “dance a jig.” Or even “sing a song. And then they would all gather around “the cement pond.” It didn’t seem to matter what was served on the dinner plate. Ole Jethro would never get full. No matter how much he ate! Elly loved to have her many animals in the home. No matter where she went. She was never alone! This Clampett family brought joy through our t.v. I still watch this show. But just occasionally. This classic show is from a time in the past. But it still brings good memories that will always last! By Jim Pemberton "The Beverly Hillbillies"


Details | Free verse | |

A Tribute To Freddie Mercury

A Tribute To Freddie Mercury

What happened?
Why did God take you away?
Your music soothed so many
Brought others to tears
Yet everyone danced and sang with you
Following your fingers on the piano keys
You cast your spell over thousands
Your voice was a gift from the gods
You took the stage you were blessed
And you blessed us with your songs
We didn’t know that you were suffering
That you were dying
You kept your pain a secret so we would not worry
You knew we would mourn before your life was over
You knew we would cry and not hear your last songs
How we miss you since you left
Your band continues on
Playing the music that you made famous
It is not the same
You made the music everything that it was
You changed music from the day you sang your first note
No one will ever give what you gave
You gave you life for your fans
We knew it and we loved you for it
Your goodbye left a void that will never be filled
Four word and just for words say what we feel
They are strong words that you gave meaning to
We hear them when we see you on a video
They echo through our ears as we hear your song
God Save the Queen and God bless Freddie
He will always be royalty in our hearts


Details | I do not know? | |

3 Things You Stole From Me

For you I put a rose away,
Hoping you'd come back another day.
I have always truely loved you,
I always will and I still do.

To pour out my heart into this poem,
Is more difficult than it seems.
For black on white, either typed or written,
Cannot express how my heart,by you, was taken.

You took it all and you didn't know,
But to love you dearly is all I want to show.

That rose may be dying,
But I am too.
For every second that passed,
Is my life without you.

Yes, we're all human.
Yes, we may falter.
But to hear those three words from you,
Would make my heart alter.

My heart would change from a landscape of a battlefield,
To the most perfect, undying rose: unbruised and yours for eternal.

That rose was stolen away by you,
My undying love was taken too.
Although you may not know this,
It was stolen and taken ever since our first kiss.

Three things you stole from me:
My heart, my rose, my undying love.
I'm suprised you didn't take my sanity.

I love you for always and forever.


Details | Pastoral | |

When Contemplating On The Lord





            ************

We come to Hither
To Honor the Spirit
       Of the Lord
We beseech Thee in
Thy Moment' of need'
     We plead to Thee
      --------
Let Thy freedom
Abide in Me
       Fore
      - For Me -
Your did sacrifice
Oh', such a dear price
      --------
Fore We are your precious'
         People....
With a Heart and Soul
          - With-in -
Open the Gate's Lord Jesus
       Let your people in
            Amen

                 GF


Details | Rhyme | |

Dancing Waters

 
On dancing waters I saw wet dreams on dancing waters I was born to believe on dancing waters I lived but could not breathe on dancing waters I learned but did not know a single thing on dancing waters I sold my very being on dancing waters I thought, one day I shall swim free on dancing waters I die as my heart bleeds and my dancing waters so beautifully seen do not gleam dancing waters now motionless removing all dreams hope in dancing waters I still try to pray for them but the dance ended with me only to begin anew all over again


Details | Rhyme | |

Black Diamond

A lovely lady you are, 
And lovely always be.
Your beauty bright as midnight stars,
And moonlight shining on the sea.

You're all that is fair and kind,
The sweetest dream and reality.
Many times you've crossed my mind; 
My lasting hope is of you and me.




©2013 Honestly JT


Details | Couplet | |

Life in focus

The wind doth brace my body so,
As I stand astride the moor.
Invigorated by its feel,
To the sky an eagle soars. 
For what splendor and sweet freedom,
Will my soul, feel such happiness.
Given all that’s gone before me,
So much sorrow and unrest.
Oh to see the sun at daybreak,
At dawn the rising mist.
To walk barefoot on the dew tipped fronds,
And to know that I am blessed.
For upon my face the warming sun,
That leaves a kiss with such caress.
Flowers with scented blossoms lie,
On their petals my head I rest
©  N  windle  2012


Details | Free verse | |

Indian Summer, Part III

The winds of Winter wait,
Whispering to me of the approaching future,
But still far off, biding their time
Until this span of light and warmth has lasted out its stay.

     Meantime, I engage myself in taking stock;
     Compiling the days that define myself to myself
     Enlarging the catalog so far as I can,
     Building up a narrative.

So many memories
Like fireflies in a Summer's night
Flash through the dark spaces of my mind.

Childhood: Flash
                            Youth: Flash
Young Parenthood: Flash
                                         Empty Nest: Flash.

Family, friends, events
Joys, sorrows, beginnings, endings -
All make their flickering passages;
All paint their images onto me  

     The particles dance and shift
     Cells die to be replaced
     The face in the mirror becomes my father's
     Molecule by molecule
     With each passing instant.

     The particles dance and shift
     Moving back towards the dark unknown
     From which they came,
     Yet somehow in the midst of it
     The I that was
                              And am
                                            And shall be
     Remains to watch the long parade unfold.

And that parade, banal and fantastic,
Marches past that inside window where I watch to see myself pass by,
As some newer self shall do the same through all tomorrows
Until the day when all the marching stops for me -

     And then, my fellow marchers,
     O my many, varied Loves,
     On that last Winter's day,
     Where will we be,
     Where will we be?

     What musics shall we hear?
     What wonders might we see?

                              






     


Details | I do not know? | |

Where Wild Violets Grow

Where Wild Violets Grow

Scribbling these verses,
caressing your bare back,
simple rhymes,
flowing from my fingertips.


Scribbling verses,
sprinkling odes to fragrant promises,
your smile lightens the burdens,
off my heavy heart.


Scribbling verses,
soaked in countless kisses,
the moonlight waltzing on your skin.


Scribbling verses,
feeling you,
your love never ceases to flow,


through the streams of my mind,
to a place of our own,
where wild violets grow



Details | Monorhyme | |

No One Told Me

No One Told Me
A cement block is tied to my heart
Need a running start
At night my voice carries like a lark
Death’s arrow has hit its mark
My life is so dark
The side of the ocean is full of sharks
Some days I feel like such a tart
I used to be such a sweetheart
No one told me life would be so hard.


Details | Free verse | |

Lessons of History

Oh
I remember history well --
the ancient guidelines --
the lessons repeated,
the dramas reenacted:
the dates, of course,
were of no import;
catching the drift of things,
that was the art.
Languages change, seasons wane.
People experience all the old pain.
What happens now?
What happened before?
Lessons of history
are writ on the walls --
they peek out from thousands
of toilet stalls
where Kilroy once sat.


Details | I do not know? | |

The heart that swore fidelity

06.08.2009

"The heart that swore fidelity"

After I'm gone
You may not cry for me
You'll find the truth
Engraved upon my door:
"Here lived a heart
That swore fidelity
Through peaceful days
And through the nights of war"

Go on and feed
Your youthfull soul with pride,
With awe you wake
In all those lost and cold

After I'm gone
You'll come back just to find
This secret pledge
Written upon my door.

Though years have passed,
Though I have known them all -
Pale breasted loves
Aiming to steal your light

I let you sail,
And if such is your choice -
Than silent waiting
Becomes the choice of mine.  


Details | Prose Poetry | |

I met you in my journey

I met you in my journey.
Over cups of coffee. Over conversations.
Over laughter. Pure nuisance.
Over smiles. And feeling of freedom.
Pure happiness. And amusement.
Over sadness. And pain.
That you stuck through.
 
I met you in my journey.
Unexpected. And I loved you.
Over the hours. The minutes.
And the days. Through lonliness.
Through the emptiness. Through the confusion
In your head. Through the feelings
That no one else understood.
 
I met you in my journey.
Lonely soul I was. Just like you.
Fighting through emotions. A rebel.
Transient like rainbow. Forever, I knew not.
My other self. I found in you.
Through the fleeting nights and days.
That made the best of my life.
 
I met you in a  journey.
Which ended. Long ago
And I look back. And wonder.
If I ever cross your mind. Like you do.
I do not know where you are now. Or how.
If you are happy, loved. But I know
In my memories, we will meet again.


Details | Senryu | |

His Majesty

<                                                symbolic ~ icon
                                     representing .... Red ~ White ~ Blue
                                         the ~ Great    ~       Bald .....  Eagle










Tribute To
The Bald Eagle


Details | Quatrain | |

:sigh of relief:

Words spoken in silence,

[When language does not suffice]

Like a look or a tear, although concise

Can echo a lifetime in your ear,

Much louder than those you can hear.


Details | Narrative | |

Friday night in the Ghetto



It's Friday night 
In the Ghetto
Screams 
From the dark ring out
A little girl crying
Daddy don’t hit mama
Sit down and shut up
Yelling
Banging 
On the walls
As neighbors threaten
To call the cops

Drugs in the hallways
Drugs on the streets
Who will that pretty girl meet
To make the money 
To feed the habit or pay
The bills or just to eat.

And still around the corner
Near the shops
The people stand 
And talk about the promise land
Its Friday night in the ghetto and the
Promise land is
The pawn shop
Fried chicken
Peanut butter and jelly.

The music from the barber shop
Makes a fellow stop
And touch fists
With a friend 
From around the way
Hey remember the day
Then out of the night air
Shots ring out

That little girl
Sitting on the floor
Playing with her dolls
Ken and Barbie
Dreaming of a time 
When she will meet her
Ken and maybe
Falls on her face
This is the place
The ghetto
And its Friday

Poem by SGSteverson
From the book"Four Pieces of a Silver Coin"
Posted 09/14/2011


Details | Narrative | |

Is it a crime to dream?

Innocent childhood dreams
Full of lollipops and ice cream
Pretending to be a princess bride
Maintaining dignity and pride

Innocent childhood dreams
No longer filled with candy and flavors of ice cream
Slowly you begin to see
The triumphs and tragedies that are meant to be

Innocent childhood dreams
Replaced with ones that make me want to scream
My once protected heart
Now easily torn apart

A heart filled with passion, love and hate
Often questioning fate
So I can’t help but ponder this 
Is it such a crime to wish…
To wish I could go back in time? 


Details | Free verse | |

Yesterday and Tomorrow.

Thoughts of paradise
Swiftly diminish
Into melancholy memories…

Each gripping steadfastly 
Romantic eyes of then and someday
Burnishing our hushed moments of fantasy…

Letting us elude our todays
Which initially, divine in desire
Converts into yearning soon enough… 


Details | Free verse | |

Old pepper grinder

Old wooden pepper grinder’s thinking of the past. Dreaming ‘bout its days of glory, now collecting dust. It’s got stories, it’s got wisdom but no one’s there to listen. It’s feeling rusty, useless and lonely somewhere in the kitchen. Wanting to retell old anecdotes, just to be taken into warm hands. Instead Alzheimer’ s at the door, saying he wants to be friends. Old wooden pepper grinder’s thinking of the past. Praying to be used again before the journey’s end.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

BEAUTIFUL THINGS

Some things are lost along the line
Some things, beautiful and fine
Driving down the lone road to the stream in my hamlet
It’s like yesterday; like catching birds from their nest
I giggled as I drove by
Mothers breast feeding babies and singing lullaby
Naked boys rolling condemned tires, and
Ripped virgins with little cloths coverings, as attires

I giggled as I drove by. It’s just like yesterday
I remember Jerome and others as we gathered to play
There was the moonlight rendezvous
Where we all gathered, boys, and girls, all of us
There was the tales by the moonlight,
Ancestral heritages, sacrifices and the Lion’s might
The Lion’s might, yet he falls beneath the crafty tortoise
I still can hear the choruses; I hear my youthful voice
I loved folklore songs. Wars songs for strong sons

Let me try seeing if I can still sing one more;
Yes! I still can sing “Omalingwo”
Omalingwo, Omalingwo tee …… Omalingwo
Omalingwo, Omalingwo nwam…… Omalingwo
Omalingwo, Omalingwo dia …… Omalingwo
Nne nei di na Otutu-aja-o………..Omalingwo
Elikwue ma yu atuna ngwo ji ……Omalingwo
Ngwo, ngwo onye oma………….Omalingwo

My God, I feel new!
I can still sing it! Oh God I knew!
Omalingwo! Story of the child of a deprived mother
Jealous king’s wives over ready for murder
Murder and deprivation if that will give them a son
To sit on the king’s throne and shine forth like the sun
Story of good over evil. Omalingwo!
A deprived mother’s son.

I giggled as I drove along,
Remembering my tiny breasts, when they formed
And more fortunate girls laughing me to scorn
I remember these things till sadness beclouded me
I am fully grown now; nostalgia overshadow me
My age mates, plus me, all gone to the cities
We can’t assemble again, just like broken pot in pieces
Oh! The Eve’s tempting apple of white collar jobs

I heard Jerome lived and then died in Jos
Killed by religious rioters with missions unjust.
I heard Nwasombia is a head dresser is Lagos
At 52 and still searching? Celibacy is obvious
I heard Nosike is in aviation, head of pilots
Even Chima is now in parliament in Cyprus
Chima, who spoke big English like “opprobrious”

My age mates, plus me, all gone to the cities
No more gatherings, just like broken pot in pieces
Still driving along the lone road to the hamlet stream
Still thinking of beautiful things
The beautiful hamlet serene things.


Details | Free verse | |

Sleepily

the Father visits his son in the dark of day
The son is abed, pale in the light of night
For the sun and moon are witness in this hour of twilight
But the sun is not heat and does not shine as bright
And the moon is not rigid rock
The sun is a warm hope, fading ever so slightly
The moon is softness, the dark is soothing

The son is abed, covers sprawled over his listless form
The son is restless, he doth not sleep
The son is ebbing, his heart does weep
and his Father lifts the covers up tight around his chest
and kisses his brow;
The son blinks wearily, smiles wanly, whimpers meekly

Sleep my son, the Father whispers

But I cannot sleep - Sleep eludes him
I want to play - Rest prances about him
close enough to want, just out of reach
And how can I sleep father? - How can he rest atop this fated bed?
When I wish to wake? - When his heart doth weep restlessly?

the Father wavers, he caresses the son's brow, but not his heart
For the heart is within, the caress without,
Rest my son, he says, rest and forget
The Father, gently, lovingly, pulls the covers up, tight around the son's neck

But father, father why
My heart will not sleep
Five more minutes? Just five.

Sleep son, the hour is late, the time is neigh

And the Father, always lovingly, he pulls the covers tight over the son, and lowers him into 
the ground.


Details | Free verse | |

The Last Will And Testament Of Senor Turkey

I watched with awe, 

as you came ashore, 

after sailing from far, far away lands, 

You built your towns, on none were frowns,

 with sheer grit, determination, faith and bare hands,

 I figured that one fateful day, 

where we would play and share our future destiny as friends,

 For that fateful chance,

 to laugh and dance, 

where our mutual goals would depend, 

I have my ways, and you have yours, 

on each others strengths we could lend,

 and we could build, and see fulfilled, 

a new World Order for all to comprehend:

 We are so different, in so many ways, 

I didn't think this day would ever come to be, 

That in the end,

 instead of try to befriend ;

 You would treat me just like a piece of meat 

 Gobble! Gobble!


Details | Rhyme | |

Guitarra, Express My Heart

Guitarra, I’m begging,express my heart Pick away all that’s ever ached Place these Spanish notes beautifully To the angel of her face Guitarra pleas, express this heart Bring to life our last Latin nights Dancing that flamenco from her charcoal eyes Reviving fiesta under most romantic moonlight Guitarra as now I gently play Fingers within running throughts through ebony of her hair “El espiritu de amor” is strumming along Bringing back the yesterdays to here Guitarra passion now is in the revival As the ghost of love tangos all around Milagros, I sense you near And in this instrument forever you are found


Details | Couplet | |

Safe Harbour

As the light starts to fade, at the end of the day,
And the last rays of sunset cascade on the bay.
The fishing boats set sail, their little lamps a glow,
Off to deeper waters and the school of fish below.
Along the granite, harbor wall, the lime washed cottage stands,
The little wind swept coastal path to the causeway and sands.
At the point a lighthouse giving out its light,
Protecting the wayward mariner as he sails on through the night.
For generations have come and gone, it’s always been that way,
As tide rolls in with the fishing boats that signals break of day.


Details | Free verse | |

a requiem

as my life dances cross a veil not seen i lie down my worth on breath that fades with hope now gone to solve errs long past notes symphonically fill the pages of days observed through shadowed glass muted childhood musings seem to glow charge hard! at adolescence's cusp the hours fill with hoards of fury comes now the strength in freedom feelings mount in shades of red she encompasses my life with deep hues of joy at love's genesis growing in multiples and steady the pace combining in wisdom that passes through youth, grinning youth, flourishes the front for the amber arrives and peace ensues gentle is the dusk as days now slow will i be of whom they speak? the dark is upon as my love went before peace has settled, what shall await? troubled no more, willfully i go


Details | Free verse | |

Word Impression Poem 2: Airling

Oh how fine it might be,
But for a day or two,
To be an airling again;
Clean of conscience
And innocent of what hurts
I may have caused,
For I'd never yet then
Intended any of them.

Age is wisdom, true.
But it's also a tapestry of little guilts,
Amid still littler expiations.


Details | I do not know? | |

Gold Star

Sometimes I sit and ponder
what it may be like
to have parents, not always 
looking for a petty fight
the love you feel, always
being there for you
day o' night

I wake up fighting a
constant battle,
I feel like I am in a circus
having to jump through hoops
my parents hold
to earn their admiration and 
approval

Earning their gold star
for the day
I was a rebel since day one
not trying to conform
dancing to the beat of a 
different drummer

Wishing to be accepted 
for who I want to be
and how I seek to spend my hours
nothing I ever do, seems to be good
enough

They talk about "emotional deposits"
i.e. spending time with them
but they spend too much time
picking and proving
reacting wrong, saying ignorant assumptions
they push me away, each day
'further and further I go
as soon as I make enough money
I'm gone

They act as if my artistic mind 
couldn't make money
like my dreams are distant relatives
of which I will never meet
but I strive to prove them wrong

Its bad enough being
one person versus the world
but when the army you fight
is led by your family, your blood
it's twice as hard to get up
in the morning, when the suns
rays dance on my closed
eyelids 

I try my best to be the kind
of person I want to be
despite their efforts to kill off
my individualistic soul
I have given up trying
to belong to which I 
was born unto
I'm simply playing the game

Hoping to win, one day
the chance to be myself
as I feel emulates me,
and regardless
have a proud
Mommy and Daddy
I do pray, I shall be
 free to be 
Heather Rose Marie


Details | Verse | |

WHOOSH

Joanna Davis

The whoosh of time it flies

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~so fast

From the dawn of our birth,

To the dusk of our past.

If the legacy is filled

with the laughter of child-like dreams,

it explodes with joy

and bursts at the seams

The residue will fly

right out into space

Then when you’re older

hit you right in the face

Your smile will be big

your eyes will be wide

Then~~~~~~~~~~ whoosh

you’re right back

To when you were a child.  






Details | Verse | |

I'm sorry

I'm sorry for you, for all I DID mean to.
I'm sorry for truth yelling under the letters.
I'm sorry for gloom I used to be into.
I'm sorry for words that were ment to be better.

I'm sure you'll learn how to be optimistic,
and all of your sorrow will burst in a firework.
I'm sure you'll taste both the carrot and broomstick,
and critic with sarcasm will become a fair quirk.

I'm sure you'll manage to blow off the ceilings,
to do something wierd, worth to be accused of.
I hope that you'll learn to sort out the feelings
and born the new tenet out of the used stuff.

I want you to find something to govern.
I wish you object every slightest assurance.
I warn you to leave any secret uncovered
so it won't appear as nightmare to you once.

Be careful with matches, refuel the gaslight, 
extinguish the candle, let the night to mourn.
I'd say, single point to fear the Last fight:
to set Life aside until you'll have to moor.

8.04.2013
NikA


Details | Lyric | |

Ever South

Yellow leaves swoop by the window like
errant canaries, confused, bruised, caught
in a ghostly whirlwind they rise and fall
swirling, hurling, snapping like a flag unfurling,
trapped taut against the window
caught momentarily, autumn comes to
stir things up, to disrupt, the end of
summer so abrupt, ruffling the feathers
of the glossy blackbirds who darken the sky
in swarms and herds, crowding on power lines
they huddle together as birds of a feather,
cawing, seemingly cursing the weather,
so many on the line, a snapshot in time,
etched into my mind, sublime,
taking flight en masse to head ever south,
south, to warmer climes as I hear the deep
tones of my Gregorian chimes, thrumming
tones that rattle breastbones, I count the
autumns that have come and go and
I know, I know.


©Danielle White


Details | Quatrain | |

Long Live Love

A toss of the head
A flick of her hair
The wave of her hand
As her beauty did flare
 
Her bountiful step
The spring in her stride
Her laugh as we waked 
Hand in hand through the tide
 
Her mouth with its smile
As we wrote in the sand
Her cries of frustration
As sea coated the land
 
Those little I love yous
Meant so much back then
That on annual vacations
We repeat them again
 
For least we forget 
In the daily ado
Our marrital vows
Mean forever I do


Details | Lyric | |

Would I were a Yellow Bird

Would I were a yellow bird,
No woes would be on me
I’d fly me past the Sawney roofs
And past the canopy,
O I’d fly so high above this earth
Above this great frontier,
You’d think me but a yellow bird
Just a-gone and disappeared.

I’d soar out into sunlit skies
Where the clouds have all gone home
And I’d soar out over churning tides,
Bleached white with briny foam
Well I’d soar above the lofty peaks
Of mountains gray and blue
Just to perch atop those crowns of rock
And sit in wait for you.

O I’d fly tomorrow if I could,
In fact I’d fly today,
But my wings have not grown strong enough
To fly me anyway
So here I’ll sit, atop this nest
These skies I’m doomed to roam
Would I were a yellow bird,
Then I would fly me home.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Diary

"Many and Many Years Ago"
In homes of many families
Televisions were tuned to a show
About people of abilities

Times were hard but they got by
Children received education
Of caliber that was very high
For their home gave good foundation

My favorite part of the show
Was diary that John Boy kept
How words would creatively flow
From John Boys lips as he read it

Inside was longing to write
But at that time I did not know
Looking back I see how the show
Appealed to very depts of me

Sponsor: Michael J. Falotico
Contest: Rhyme Me An Old TV Show
Show: "The Walton's"
Written by: Sara Kendrick
01-31-12


Details | Lyric | |

For the Dying Orphan

I let you die for my name As you reached for my hands Out of waters of drowning What a hypocrite this writer is The Hatred of Solitude Letting an orphan dream Then destroy him with knowledge Of what you have done He opened up to you In new ways But in nostalgic guises The springwinds whisper blithe yore But the winterwinds, much stronger Caress you with the dreams of your funeral sky “It was you… it was your fault… Letting the one who was so open to you Be the laugh… the piece in the game…”


Details | Free verse | |

Tradin' Fever

Around these parts trading fever is what its called
It comes around âbout ever fall!
The fever will come and go when it will subside 
no one knows!
These men are said to be the last great
 horse traders of our time a dyin'  breed the 
last of their kind!
When the fever hits they will trade anything they own!
They live by a motto, adone deal is set in stone!
The all trade horses, mules knives and guns to them
this is real fun!
They swap their lies and tales, retracing old stomping grounds
and trails!
They come and stay all day, whittling and spinning
 their yarns of those good ole days back on the farm!
 
Dedicated to my Father  D.G. Lucas


Details | Rhyme | |

Life's Mysteries

Deeper my search party dives those soul seekers for my life the deeper they sink the more I find some of it is surprising some of it I do not like but each time they come up for air and supplies I am one search closer to the end of all my mysteries in life


Details | Couplet | |

Summer Fun---grammer school days

The day was hot as red rose sunny
We gathered eggs from holes like a bunny

Down to the grocer’s store we went
Sold our eggs funds on candies spent

With grandma abed off comes the coat
On goes the sneakers shaped like a boat  

Big brother goes racing up to the gate
The youngest trying to be quiet shout wait

Round the corner comes the show truck
Reels of movies in boxes securely tuck

Hercules Ben Hur High Noon Dracula and such
We saw them o’er and o’er he hadn’t  much

Big brother hops on the truck going up the hill
The youngest and I ran behind we know the drill

Hopping onto trucks is a skill perfected by boys
We girls had to be content playing with toys

Inside the show house the movie starts
Everyone must hear our throbbing  hearts





Written Sept. 8 2012
For Craig's contest: Summer Fun


Details | Prose Poetry | |

''kissing sally in the smoking-room''

listen, the world has changed plenty since you’ve last shown your face around here. nowadays, a name is the last thing we learn, if we ever do learn it. flirting is boring, death is a dinner topic, happiness is strange. pain is good. things taste backwards — but oh, do they feel sweet. love and crime no longer compete for the gold: guess what sweetheart, they’ve got it, and they’re sleeping together.

oh come on, don’t look at me like that.

you’ve always underestimated your own heart, you know. and mine, for that matter. you can get away with a lot of things with a heart now — i suppose that’s another thing that’s changed. remember how we used to be under its mercy? remember how we couldn’t cope with the traffic of our bodies until it finally sighed some soft, silly sentence?

how long have you been gone, anyway?

no, no, that’s not how it works. it isn’t really a question of whether i missed you or not. that word doesn’t mean anything anymore. it’s become quite the popular prop. i don’t have a word for what it’s been like while you were—

what? what do you mean i’ve changed? if there’s anyone who’s changed it’s you! i haven’t changed for the sake of entering this world: look, darling, we’re all thieves of space and time, and i’m just one of many trying to survive.

but…yes, i do suppose those days were nice. in their own way. when we were buried treasure. when closeness was something you had to earn first.

hey, you’re smiling. 

i’m not kidding — you really are. should i stop?

well, i can’t say i imagined you’d be back here again.

you want to know something, though? alright, i’ll tell you.

if there’s one thing i’m glad hasn’t changed at all, it’s how we wake up. it doesn’t matter what happened hours ago. forget about what your skin remembers. can you believe it, we still manage to wake up! after all this!

i think a lot of it has to do with how competitive, how scared everyone feels. because after that, even after that, there’s still that pleasant feeling of shared space. and then the silent sunrise. and then the beautiful morning.

i know.

i know, i know.

and yeah, you’re still smiling.


Details | Free verse | |

Beyond The Sun

Of 2000 years ago Beyond The Sun
There once was a Prophetic Son
With a Mother of Wisdom
The Matriach of Sublime
She shows the way in time
 
There's a locked cage in my heart
And it's tearing me apart
Sophia you hold The Key
Why don't you open if for me
 
Beyond The Sun
A Dove, a Flame (Beyond The Sun)
Regina Sapientia is Here (Beyond The Sun)
 
Beyond The Sun
A Dove, a Flame (Beyond The Sun)
Regina Sapientia is Here (Beyond The Sun)
 
There's a locked cage in my heart
And it's tearing me apart
Sophia you hold The Key
Why don't you open if for me
 
Beyond The Sun
A Dove, a Flame (Beyond The Sun)
Regina Sapientia is Here (Beyond The Sun)
 
Beyond The Sun
A Dove, a Flame (Beyond The Sun)
Regina Sapientia is Here (Beyond The Sun)


Details | Free verse | |

A new Ireland

It was a wet November day
on the motorway to Cork
waiting at traffic lights
a tiny man shuffled towards me
frail, bald and alone,
his piercing eyes beseeching,
palms outstretched, imploring.
His face ravaged with fear
his shame stirred shame in me
as I turned my face away,
I saw others do the same.

I felt raw discomfort 
it changed rapidly to fear
as the cold face of recession
the demise of my country
the pain of my people
stood before me
in this little man
an ache so immense,
I had covered it deep.

Faced now with utter revulsion,
abject anger towards our government,
our bankers and developers,
those sneaky golden circles,
as my eyes met his,
I saw my own reflection.
The country’s bubble burst a year ago
but he had just burst mine.

For In his tiny frame,
I saw our fragile nation
a country on its knees
begging for a bail out.

In his isolation,
I felt my own vulnerability
huge impending loss
as my children face emigration.

In his baldness, 
I saw the naked masses
new poverty and pain,
still crushing us, the people

This little man
could be me.






Details | Rhyme | |

Please Forgive Me, Allie

A simple poem of apology Is nothing more than feeling But every word and phrase Comes from my heart and every being You are a blessing from the Lord A gift I took for granted Don’t ever feel less than that For you’re the friend I’ve always wanted Seeking a place of solitude I tried to hide from you Attempting to mend the pain That sticks to me like glue Through the frowns and thoughtlessness I’m sure you already guessed That these last few days of hurting you Have really been a mess I know from the bottom of my heart That I’ve been less than fair When I hid from everyone In silence and despair The wounds I used to mask me You saw it through with kindness You comforted me, accepted me Led me through the darkness Looking back on the years gone by The memories I hold so dear I see you in every one of them As I shed a single tear If there’s one thing I regret the most It’s ever hurting you And I appreciate all the things you’ve done So genuinely and so true Please forgive me, Allie And know that you are beautiful I hope our friendship grows forever More cherishing and wonderful


Details | Free verse | |

The equation of mass


The days on earth wear thin
Like my hair 
And where girdles pull in a 
Sagging mass
And memory is washed by a 
Lunar pull- 
Like the tide that washes over 
Footprints in the sand
Soon memories are gone 
like a dying star grows dim
And I return recycled to 
The worms
But my heart knows a better 
Place- 
Where reserved for me 
I know so well- 
I will glow in -The eternal day 
That is- my permanent home

Brenda V Northeast 


Details | Free verse | |

When she smiles

When she smiles, 
Buds open to flowers

When she smiles
Innocence spreads 

When she smiles
The joyous embraces 

When she smiles
Intoxication descends

When she smiles
Its starts to rain

When she smiles
Moon outshines sun

When she smiles
My heart smiles too

When she smiles
Beauty emerges

When she smiles
Colors dances

When she smiles
Cupid wakes

When she smiles
Poetry becomes

When she smiles
In love we fall

When she smiles


........................

dedicated to the smile of a 'woman', Mature, simple, beautiful, independent yet full 
of love to share and life…, i may want to continue with 'Whisper Beyond Age'


Details | Rhyme | |

Do You Remember

Do you remember when love was more than a four letter word
And holding hands walking down the street
Doing a matinee on a Saturday
Feeling the rhythm of the music in your feet
Playing baseball on an abandoned lot
And how the girls could turn your head
Sneaking that cigarette behind the house
Getting your first kiss and turning red
A nickel bought a candy bar
A penny bought a picture of a movie star
Go for a Sunday ride in the family car
A baseball glove dangling from your handle bar
Do you remember when Mom read us a nursery rhyme
Hey kids, what time is it? It's Howdy Doody Time
The Falcon and Shadow were fighting crime
You could find anything in the Five and Dime
In the drug store, you could get a cherry coke
The smell of the bus when it left all that smoke
Playing chase tag on the street at night
Running through fields, flying a kite
Picking flowers for Mom on the way home from school
Meeting your classmates at the community pool
School shopping right before Labor Day
Saving your money by putting pennies away
In spite of the hardships and all of the strife
Honesty was a way of life
We grew inside from what we learned
We didn't accept it if it wasn't earned
Pep rallies before the football game
We knew each shop and the owner by name
Do you remember when life was innocent
Do you ever wonder where it went?


Details | Limerick | |

New Years Resolution

Resolutions fruitful tricks on mind,
Some reality, some so unkind,
They are just promises.
Other compromises,
They often suspend and rob one blind.

Though we keep on making them each year,
Sometimes bringing smiles or single tear,
No, matter what they are.
Ordinary or bizarre,
We take new steps, staying all old fear.

My resolution, be more funny.
Stir my funny bone for my honey.
To bring her more laughter,
Sharing smiles thereafter,
We need, joy, happiness, not money.


Written for

Sponsor Carolyn Devonshire 
Contest Name New Year's Resolutions 


Details | Rhyme | |

Sunless streams

Where water dwells nary an eye has seen
twas eons ago called sunless streams
beckon mine ear to behold soundless clatter
sunless streams tis all that matter
sunless streams is life to sustain
constricted beneath yet not contained
motionless sunless life beneath the ground
underground tavern there's no bound
seen unseen by the naked eye
hear o heart thy streamless cry
buried unleashed in caverns dark domain
beckoning motionless streams detained
billowed cry from Hades knowledge dream
hear the beckoning of sunless streams


Details | Alliteration | |

Firecrackers (Alliterations)

In a pick pack boom a wonderful light in the sky
Beaming gleaming screaming people out in the street
Watching the parade of light danced, glanced tranced
Happy sappy snappy to watch the firecrackers so beautifully
Amazing as it make the sky lively sparkly wonderfully
It shone in the dark out in the park making the mark
A sign of celebration in a cloud nine look so divine
Graces in the space a part of beauty to embrace

22/9/07


Details | Haiku | |

Falling taught me balance

A girl walking on 
a wall made of pebbles and stones, 
preparation for life


Details | Free verse | |

Immortal Memory - Illusion Of Love

                                                        
                                                              *~*


                                   In my heart, what I thought to be love 
                                         Was simply my own desire
                                                     So brief...
                                Gone before time could tell it even happened
                                                   Like a whisper
                                Barely heard in the shadowy stillness of night

                                        I tell myself it's over, you're gone 
                                               But in the same breath
                                      A voice whispers quietly to my heart 
                                             Assuring me that perhaps 
                                            You may have really cared
 
                                       I tell myself it wasn't meant to be 
                                             But in my remembering...
                                           I find that thought elusive
                                            Too painfully conclusive

                                        It weaves its memory in and out
                            Like a fine needle sewing its fragile threads
                                      Delicately twisting them intimately
                                        Amongst the filigrees of my mind
  
                                The magic was so mysteriously enchanting
                                              I tell myself it's over...
                                        But my heart refuses to listen

                                           My mind says to forget you
                                That no one's worth this kind of sadness 
                                   My soul doesn't need this heartache
 
                                        I tell myself I didn't really care
                                 That it was all just a momentary illusion

                                                             But... 
                                               I never did lie very well 

                                                             *~*


Details | Free verse | |

Her Final Words

"No." She whispered before drowning into her sorrows.
Her life had been a simple happy one. 
There were no pains and no troubles.
Life was life and people were people.
Life was simple.
and life was all about tomorrows.
Life didn't know about sorrows.
Her sorrows.
Those same sorrows that she drowned in never existed. 
They were never there, but where?
First to be sad in the naive town of joy.
Sorrow became contagious and what was known as happiness no longer was there.
It was non-exististent. 
A meager thought 
and a blessed memory.
She tried and tried.
She failed and failed.
Life was no longer hers.
For Pain was her only possession.
Her curse.
She lived and she died.
Yet, her legacy was passed on.
Never was it gone.
"No." She whispered before drowning in her sorrows, 
"Save them."


Details | Free verse | |

Time To Clean House

It's been covered 
by that christmas tablecloth 
for years.
You remember... 
the one with the large poinsettia pattern 
directly in the middle, 
with the cranberry stains decorating 
sporadic spots along the border.

I almost forgot it was here.
I always hoped somehow a magic trick
would be performed while I was away
and it would disappear before I returned.

The years have passed for me
yet as I do the unceremonious unveiling
time seems to spiral backwards until
I'm sitting on the floor 
drowning in a flood of memories.

Yet, 
no more tears come.
Time to clean house.
No more tablecloths to cover the pain.
No more boxes to tuck away 
the memories that are better off forgotten.
No more excuses for not visiting this place.
No more.

This space is clean now
and will remain that way.
Clear of the cobwebs and dust
that have been clouding my vision
for too many years.
The heavy velvet curtains give a groan
(or is it a cheer?)       
as they're thrown open.
Finally, the sun can shine through
and the warmth can be felt
by a heart that was unsure it deserved 
to feel the warmth of the sun.


Details | Light Poetry | |

This Old House

The old house had seen better days
Times when all the rooms were full
laughter traveling through the air
times of glee, pranks and joyfulness

Now it looks so sad, in need of repair
sagging porch, cracked window panes
the paint peeling, all drab and bare
missing tiles letting in the elements

The man stood looking and pondering
caught up in the memories of long ago
taking out his phone, he calls for help
a reprieve for this old house he gives

Soon the builders start sorting things
first a brand new roof of gleaming tiles
the porch rebuilt and all gets a new coat
once again the old house returns to life


Details | Sonnet | |

" STARS"

"Stars"
I do not know how big they are,
But I can see them twinkle from afar.
Their shape to me is yet unknown,
Still I can see them where ever I go.

Way high up there in the night sky,
Farther than any bird could ever fly.
"How did they get so far away,?"or
"Will they fall down to earth someday?"

When I look through my window late at night,
I stare at those stars,so beautiful and bright.
One day I know there won't be any cars,
But when I look up there will always be stars 


Quentin Alexander Sands


Details | Senryu | |

' The Pied Piper and The Tiger ... ' 67th Senryu

‘ The Pied Piper and The Tiger … ’  67th  Senryu



 Both:  The Pied Piper
The Lady Or The Tiger …
Readers Picks … Either …


Details | Narrative | |

ELVIS my impression

                           This is my impression of Elvis Presley 
I was vey lucky to be 16 in 1956 when Rock and roll came into existence the greatest music of all time and for all time, this is what it all met to me.


Elvis was the big bang to creating music like the big bang was to creating the universe
Before Elvis their was no rock and roll, no music, no dancing 
His look was unique
His movements on stage were unique
His voice was the greatest like nothing ever heard before
His songs started the greatest music craze in the history of music rock and roll
He looked dangerous 
He looked like he was having the best time of his life on stage
Elvis didn’t give a damm who wrote his songs black or white
He was the first entertainer who did it all before anyone else did anything
Both men and women loved him
Elvis was a mans man
Elvis was a ladies man
Elvis was a gentleman
Elvis was a Christian 
Elvis was a momma’s boy
Elvis was respectful of his fans
Elvis was just one man who changed music forever in America in 1956 
When Elvis sings you have to smile, to tap your feet, clap your hands, move your body, and come alive
It’s 2013, 35 years since Elvis died 
He is still the major Icon of the music world
Elvis is still the most worshiped singer and entertainer in history
Thousands and thousands of fans visit his home each and every year
Elvis didn’t smoke or drink
Elvis became an actor but could have become an accomplished actor with the right people and advice around him
Coronel Parker was both good for Elvis and bad for Elvis
Liberace taught Elvis how to dress with flash
Elvis had his own way of moving on stage when he sang no one has ever duplicated his signature moves God know how many tried
Elvis served the country he loved when he was drafted into the army no complaining 
Elvis asked fro no special treatment while in the army 
Elvis loved the woman and the woman loved him back
Elvis was the greatest entertainer of all time
Elvis met his tragic and to soon end to his life he was only 42
Elvis was hooked on prescription pills and that’s what killed him
No one could tell Elvis what to do many tried all failed
The music died on the day Elvis died
It was so sad that Elvis felt so all alone so much of his life that is what fame does to you
Elvis was the King
No one else will ever occupy the Kings throne
Elvis loved to sing gospel songs no other entertainer of rock and roll ever did 
No entertainers star shines brighter or ever will
You can ask any great entertainer and there are hundreds and will all agree Elvis was the greatest entertainer of all time
No entertainer in the history of music ever had a first year success like Elvis had
I saw Elvis in Las Vegas in 1972  when the music started and you knew that Elvis was soon to be coming on stage the excitement and the anticipation in the room was over whelming and beyond compare everyone in the room was mesmerized


This is my remembrance of Elvis Presley

Dennis Davis
March 15, 2013


 



Details | Senryu | |

Snow Angel

Snow Angel
Waving arms and legs;
Smiling at moon and bright stars,
Angel trails behind.


Details | Rhyme | |

Sweet

Sweet is the taste of golden honey,
As it drips upon my tongue.
Sweet is the sound of a baby's sigh,
Sweetest song ever sung.

Sweet is the scent of wisteria blooms,
Wafting through the springtime air.
Sweet is the touch of my lover's hand,
As he runs it through my hair.

Sweet is the sight of an elderly couple,
Strolling and holding hands.
Sweet are the "Aha!" moments of life,
The ones that are never planned.


Kim Merryman
Entered in PD's "one word title" contest.



Details | Rhyme | |

Parted Paths

We started off friends 

There was something more

We knew better then to open that door

Came so close just a breath away

We knew if it was meant it would happen 

Just not that day

And now you live so far away

O the ways we used to play

Makes me miss the good ol days

But the good days are now not then

We can hardly remember when

You love her and I love him

Will we ever commit that sin

Taste each others salty skin

Will the temptation ever win

Back then was a trying time

Both in your life and in mine

Our paths seperated on a dime

We kept on living knowing we would be fine

Now questions come up and get me thinking

Since we parted are we sinking

If we met up now after years gone by

Would we still tingle deep inside

Could you then look me in the eyes

Even though she is to be your bride

Will there be feelings we must deny

Cause I too am with another guy

I cant help but wonder why

So many things in life can make you cry

All I can do is look to the sky 

And ask my questions till the day I die


Details | Sonnet | |

Celestial Mother

Once great always great I say to you.
Upside down or right side up you be.
Once upon a time and a time once was she.
Gathering the universe and shining a Star or two.
 
Then one day She shot down to Earth out of the blue.
She gathered Her crops and made circles wide and free.
She made them so big the whole of the world could see.
She took the Stars the Sun and Moon making them new.
 
She shined talents never quite seen.
Amazing and sparkling from up above,
She is the smartest thing ever so keen.
She is abundant in spreading Her love.
 
She is our Celestial Mother in Heaven,
Separated by the empty shells of leaven!
 
 
© Copyright: Ann Rich   2007


Details | Rhyme | |

Street Lights

Imagine a life set so selfless
that even sinners couldn't help it
but carry the weak and offer
strength to helpless.
but this life we lead on
is a cliche' blue song
because we don't even know
when it's right to move on
we don't even know how to fight
to move on
so we might as well get a grip
ingest life till' it's gone.

so I sit here so still
can't believe I'm feeling still,
the candlewick burnt out
tonight on that window sill.


Details | Rhyme | |

Self Made Demise

Is it really hard to understand 
I am just looking for a man
One that sees the world like me
Offers his heart humblely
I will cherish and protect 
Give back to him what I get
Hoping its not just me
Drifting in this lonely sea
Been floating out here for years and years
Fighting not to drown in my own tears
This ocean I find myself drifting in 
Was created from unintentional sin
My eyes cried this reflecting pool
Due to all the times I played the fool
Will I ever feel the ground again 
Or does a boat come pull me in
Save me from my self made demise
See the sun through cloudy skies
May the warmth come cure my pain 
Stop these eyes that pour like rain


Details | Haiku | |

A gray, sunless day

A gray sunless day.
Heavy rain flagellating 
my bare-necked crying soul.


Details | Narrative | |

Stunning Armadillos

Trees still shade the road
where Gramps and I once rode
in his old green car -- I drove --
on dusky early evenings
in my fifteenth year.
We stopped, as he insisted, at every spot
where an armadillo scratched
among the tender greenery
in ditches.
I was dispatched,
with Gramps' strong wood cane,
to kill a pesky armored creature
by striking hard, once, upon its snout.
Gramps waited in the car,
called encouragement or condemnation:
"That's it! Hit him hard!" or
"Can't you do a damn thing right?"
He knew I didn't like to kill
but was determined to toughen up
my softness.
That hard old man was not accustomed
to being crossed or contradicted.
But part of him was tender,
and he had a sense of what was right
in the bayou country of his day.
How could I tell him that I hated
killing just to please him?
Often, I killed, then killed again,
although, at times, I'd miss the snout
or be slow to follow up,
and permit an armadillo to escape.
Sometimes, I'd temper force with moderation --
I'd stun the creature, grab the tail,
fling it far into dense bushes
to revive and live another day.
My grandfather eyed me darkly then,
but often kept his peace.
He gave me the treatment
I gave those stunned armadillos.
Could he have felt the same
toward me as I toward them?


Details | Rhyme | |

Monsoon Girl

She recall her day when she sat by the window
And saw the defiled sky to brace up on with spiritual phantasm
Of some demonic begrudges – amassing and making
The flushing spirit of the late evening merriments and bichrome realism.
 
She beshrewed the iniquity rushing by, but it pelted upon
It bastardized her against the immorality of the nature
And she held up with no parole and desires…
She felt herself interred to the nature that despair.
 
The inquity that brigthened with thunderclaps and silver storm
She averted her fear and assailed against this rage
Acquainted herself with the nature she forefended
Pounded for few moments and synced with the lifelike stage.
 
She clapped, she laughed, she fantasied with the zesty consequence
She danced, she danced with the drops falling from the sky,
She sung her own rhythm catching her steps divine
The music prolonged as the clouds lightened and twittery lyrics whistled thereby.
 
Enduring the theme, she limned in her imagination
A life she yearned-for, A life she was not expecting
She painted in her heart an amorist she was looking for
Holding his hand she balled on the miry stage with pavan relieving.
 
The lust she felt over her drizzly body
Closed her eyes as she felt the touch of his lips on her belly
He took hold of her waist and she accured the fanciful time with reverence
She dangled holding the dampen trunk of a tree, and embraced her amorist 
temptingly.
 
The flushing spirit that bestowed with mightiness and relief
She glittered with love, spirit, esteem and belief
All of a sudden she roused from her phantasies 
Withal the monsoon girl lived her day, ceasing all her grief.


Details | Couplet | |

Hieroglyphs unknown by Champollion

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

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

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


Details | Prose Poetry | |

He fought his way back

The country picked the winner; 
     Fifty percentage where displeasure
      We fought the battle and we won
We knew within our heart, he was the right one

 The choices, the excuses, the misses,
   Mishaps and misfortune 
Hurricane, Sandy might or might not help Obama win
 However, not tonight we held each other 
And whisper we did it; and we did it again

Left wing, Right wing the views from the politic world
 Conservative vs. Liberal beliefs do we really care 
  Knowing what we know today.
 The people, the lines and the togetherness
    Made it worthwhile to cast those ballots 

 The clocks where going round and round
  Thousands of clicks our votes count up 
                                                        Not down
              His words the journey have been long
                  However, he fought his way back, 
                           Now it all work
                             Jack! All work, Jack!


Details | Free verse | |

Situation Comedy Sketch


The kids in Caroline's
family living room 
gather for snacks, 
lolling around on rug and sofas. 
Girls challenge the boys 
to leg wrestling contests.
 
Chilly out in the late Autumn. 
No leaves on the trees. 
The room warm
soaked in playful experiment,

taken for granted. 
Kathy and Neil 
Caroline and Nolan and Pete
invited, not caring about climate.
 
David arrives by accident.
Caroline a kind girl
greets him not asking for his invitation.
Everyone hears, “Oh no.” 
They feel the cold, the ending. 
David never takes it for granted.


Details | Imagism | |

The sealed mountain

The grass like words in a poem, grew up on the hill,
With the pulsing season birds` bitter and honey thrill;
So green and yellow written in the sad memory:
Words on painted crosses of wood and ivory;
Blessed words on lips and clouds passing far away;
Grass grew around the shinning words of yesterday;
Grass and fluorescent flowers of our good night ,
And long echo of Narcissus calling the first light
From whose tender drops the world caught life,
And temptation of good got dim shadowy strife.
Words like moon reflected on the time`s waters
Brought the stratified Yorick`s smiles of our brothers;
It seems a wet moon with  broken troubled waters.
We sag and summon back the past Job`s heirs`hearth
To find the sealed mountain whose true faith is enough . 
 


Details | I do not know? | |

Friends with a Girl

"Friends with a Girl"

        She stood on a hill.. with the sun in her hair..
     I.. was frozen in fear..
          In a valley of shadows..my heart.. slowly sank..
      As she walked.. ever closer.. and near..
           Shaking..my hands.. tried to move ..
             Not a chance.. 
       Lifting my head..my eyes fell across her..
           She seemed to float...like a dream..
        I was amazed.. how her eyes drew me in..  
             Like a hunter.. she quietly found me..    
     So you want to be my friend.. she asked..
          Not a question.. her answer ..she knew..
      So you like to walk me on the path.. she said..
          Again.. she told the truth..
                             I was just a boy.. hardly able to breathe..
                       So it seemed..
               She took my hand.. and broke the ice.. 
           My curse was no longer found..
                Suddenly the world in which I lived.. became alive..
       All around.. everything I knew.. had been a lie..
              The world was black and grey.. before her kiss..
          I watched.. the colors exploding in the sky..
               So this.. is what I would have missed..
         Only now.. I know.. this girl's a friend..
                        Before we met.. I ask.. did I exist?                    


Details | Verse | |

Fireplace and Icicles

Fireplace Holds many hearts When it is cold The warmth is refreshing Snow falls outside the window Icicles
Russell Sivey Form Vignette Entrant into Carol ~Sunshine~ Brown's "FIRE And ICE" contest 11/17/2012


Details | Free verse | |

You & Me

Let the me in you
Let the you in me
Be at the very heart
Be the very heart
Of the us in you
Of the us in me.

Let the me in you
Let the you in me
Mate and melt down
To be the very one
To be the only one
They are meant to be.

Let love
Be the main road
Let love
Be the only road
Between you and me.

Let  love
Be the smoothest road
Let love
Be the straightest road
Between you & me.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Reunion

Plagued with signs of aging
Only the eyes bore a semblance
These were faces I used to know
Yet I barely see a resemblance.
Hair that once was wavy and long
Now barely grows in sprinkles
The face that never had a flaw
Now creased with lines and wrinkles

My eyes slowly traveled the room
Trying to look so nonchalant
Reveling in all the rounded figures
Sporting an out-of-date bouffant.
And to think I once was jealous
And made to feel so out of place
By this very group of matriarchs
Without a sign of youth to trace

How gracefully I’ve aged
As I compared  myself to these
How much younger I appear
I’ve sailed the years with ease.
The sound of voices intermingling
Draws me back to reality
Scarcely believing what I’m hearing
They’re saying the same things about me!


Details | Rhyme | |

Where The Wind Blows

As the wind blows unannounced
Rising up one soul from his lowness
As it howls, journey commenced
Most likely to ponder over his cumbersome blindness

Spent his childhood days on a mountainous place
Facing a vast expanse of seawater
Sandy beach and rocky shoreline to showcase
Old folks were a farmer and boat-builder

Picturesque at almost every turn, only for their eyes
Blind man could not see but gentle breeze tells it all
As the breeze was cooled by the lake is what it implies
Wind blows is his device to know what would befall

Rushing of wind would mean a gusty storm
In no time his place be battered by typhoons
Hearing waves undulate liberally, his mind conforms
With the wind tempting to harness his fiddle to attune

When it all calms down, fallen leaves on the ground
Sea froth bubbling after lapping waves
Zephyr comes around to soothe the weariness
As life lurks in out of the blue to cast around

He wishes to know and to see
Through where the wind blows
And ends up hating the humidity
Always wanted someone breathing so close


Details | Chastushka | |

Chastushka with balalaika and nagaika

Sweet  horizon ,don`t lock , don`t taste the pale bitter moon !
I`ll whip my Fancy`s Fairy with your whip-nagaika:
Incense times of vanity unscrewing a camphor afternoon. ..
Let`s live together in poem,with  our balalaika !


Details | Narrative | |

Holding Back

Nothing here is wrong because nothing ever could.
It has been so long,
A time that just never would!

Nothing here was ever lost because nothing was ever found.
It has been a toss,
A time that simply counted down!
Holding back the tears,
Puddles of many lost years!
Holding back my time,
I’m a prisoner with no crime.

There’s nothing here to hold because there never was.
It has been so cold,
A time for just because!
Holding back the pain,
My chronic death inside!
I have nothing to lose because there’s nothing to gain.
Holding back the strength of all my earned pride,
I’m just a moment gained with a will that eventually dies inside!


®Registered: 1997  Ann Rich 


Details | Acrostic | |

Collecting the Girl

All her pill boxes
understood to be collectibles
neatly arranged on her coffee table
treasured baubles, bits of metal

Varying uniquely in size, in color
each in a replica of someone's dream
rare in their form,
nearly minted in quality
entrancing small fingers and innocent eyes
telling their stories with secret compartments
tendered with nimblest artisan hands
existing, cocooned, in the quiet of her living room, an urban museum...


Details | I do not know? | |

Good Morning, Apocalypse Now : A Tribute to a Vietnam Veteran

Untitled 5
(My Uncle: Good Morning, Apocalypse Now)

My uncle doesn't speak much
about Vietnam or the stuff
he witnessed when he 
was just a boy. See,
he likes to drive the back roads fast 
and honk at random cars that pass.
His friendly gestures always lead to how
he grew up compared to kids now. 

Jumping and racing trains on the tracks
became dodging bullets and carrying his buddy on his back.
The marshes and dirt valleys here
became the forests and trenches of the military frontier. 

Last year, my sister donned his jacket
a fatigued fatigue that hung in his closet. 
In color and memory darkened,
kept out of sight for fear it would harken
the PTSD he's stuggled to avoid. 

He saw his brothers, young like him
to Vietnam succumb
while on American soil
and he promised he would never speak,
for fear his stomach would coil, 
when remembering rice - a dish he no longer enjoys.
And there's no orange on his clothes to remind him of the agent that destroyed.

When he speaks a calm 
"Good morning", I wonder if he's thinking of Vietnam
or if he knows
that I admire his strength and 
bravery and how 
he continually fights against 
the "Apocalypse Now".


Details | Free verse | |

As I lay Upon Mother earth

Wishful thinking
rests upon soft summer 
butterfly wings
warm breeze
swims across my body
taking with it
my
thoughts, dreams,wishes
now they float, high
above the endless 
clouds, like seeds
from an empty 
dandelion stem
suns rays
wrap me in an invisible
blanket of comfort
tiny, speckles of wet
dew drops from morning
when God kissed the ground
As I lay, feeling
the touch of mother earth
I drift to dream freely
my Native ancestors
dancing and chanting
the songs of my people
the Chickasaw
A sudden itch on my nose
brings me back to the present
and as my sleepy eyes lift
from crescent slivers 
to full dark chocolate moons
I watch as a monarch
dance across my face
and kisses my cheek with
its powdery wing
as it travels
above the endless clouds
like the dandelion seeds


Details | Senryu | |

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

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



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


Details | Ottava rima | |

Dreams Glowing Brightly

Dreams wed forever partied in the park.
Hope's voice permeated life's freshest air.
Beloved friends, there rejoiced at love's spark.
The wedding guests adorned in formal wear.
Enjoying snacks and drinking way past dark
Oh sweet nostalgia, come again, so fair.
Beneath night-lights held tight by romance.
Couples glowing brightly, spinning…thoughts dance.


Details | Rhyme | |

Harbor Town Man

Carved from pine
Rugged, but divine
Timeless
Even-though from an earlier time

Resolute face
Weathered and without grace
Red and blushed
Sunburned or whiskey flushed?

Long coat open and flowing
Every work inspired wrinkle is showing
Brown and down to knees
For a harbor town man, if you please.

Hands in pocket of baggy pants
Taking a job well done stance
Red sweater takes away the chill
Insulation to keep from getting ill

Upon his head lies newsboy style cap of blue
While he peers at his town’s ocean view
He will not walk away
A harbor town man he’ll stay

By: Richard J. Long
February, 2012


Details | Etheree | |

Campfire Smoke and Memories

Wind
on a 
warm summer
day.  Fir limbs sway
like a flapper from 
the roaring twenties.  The
breeze carries a resinous 
scent of pitch and earth, unleashing
a flood of memories thought lost to 
time.  The campfire smoke and embers still glow.


Details | Rhyme | |

When Love Hurts

When love hurts, God heals
When love hurts, God feels
Your pain too as you do now
Pray and He'll show you how
When love so hurts, how to deal
The deep pain is oh so very real
God'll cry too for your tears and
It's true about footprints in sand
Reach out and He holds your hand
In kind your mind will feel His love
Hurting'll subside from God's glove 
I know of true hurting, how it feels
Accepting a hand of cards He deals
Painful nights crying, I've had many
But God's blessings, I've had plenty
That I will have better days ahead, I
Know and no longer have need to cry
When life itself hurt I questioned why
But I survived and my faith didn't die
For yesteryear's hurts, it will subside
The tears still come once in a while
But the love memories, I can smile
For God's so in His glorious Kingdom
For Kingdom come, thy will be done
And done will the pain be, away it'll
Go, like wood off a creative whittle
Beautiful to see, as days coming be
God cures all hurt, just wait and see
My mother, dad, brother, baby too
And for me, cried like baby boo hoo
But I wiped away the tears and have
Been blessed like a cow and her calf
Help do words of praying and writing
More than once, had vision - sighting
Not just in dreams, but for really real
I was in such pain, it was just surreal
Once it was Mother/Son, Mary/Jesus?
Through Him I pray for me, bejezzus


Details | Free verse | |

Harvest Time

Honey combs swollen..sticky and sweet
Apples candied or  chopped for  mince meat
Raisins dried from my Daddy's grape vine
Verily I say.. it's again  harvest time..
Eager for Winter and sun shortened days
Storehouses busting we bring in the strays
Tilling and tending ... the work and the grime

Toiling and teamwork.. we receive Harvest time..
Intervals of hours.. of weeks and years
Miles of work.. with blood.. sweat and tears..
Every time to a season.. every season for a time
      ~With our hearts full of gladness.. 
            we celebrate Harvest Time!


Details | Couplet | |

Mayberry

Take a step back to a simpler place,
Where the world revolved at a slower pace.

Think about Andy, Opie, Barney and Aunt Bee,
Enjoying life in the small town of Mayberry.


Details | Senryu | |

Miami Nights

Miami Nights
Calypso music plays;
Hips and arms sway to the beat,
Hearts melt in the heat.


Details | Free verse | |

Regrets

Once, love dreamed of,
I used to write her name
by mine, in hope she’d notice
Over and over, again, again, again.

She’d look with radiant smile
I’d do same
Would pass me by
Repeatedly, again, again, again.

Two doves we were,
both tender hearts so tame
Shy to speak
In dreams I’d call (your name) again, again, again.

So it came to be
There was no lover’s lane
As we lived our lives alone
Memories recalled – regrets, again, again, again.


Details | Free verse | |

Focus

Focus…

I know it’s over but I don’t want it to end
I’m closing my eyes to try and live it all again
In this frame of mind scenes are leaving me speechless
And again just like the other night I’m looking for the words

I’m a mass of mixed emotion with too much happening at once
It’s easy come easy go for the pleasure to live
In and out of the darkness watch my energy surge and fade
You can look into my eyes and see the shadow rising

I’m breaking up and down, shredding up those nerves of steel
Can I break any new ground by telling you how I feel?
Neither happy nor sad, kind of numb without emotion
I’m very indifferent now,
And it has become very hard to focus


Details | Lyric | |

Complicated Love

My life is so complicated,
It feels as if I'm neither loved nor appreciated.
This feeling I have inside of me, 
it burns...

To imagine the touch of his soft skin against mine,
It's like I'm running back and forth through time,
'Cause it's never gonna happen again...

To hear his voice whispering in my ear,
It would be as if I'm reliving that one special year...

I'll never forget the words he said to me...

"I Love You, Baby"...

It makes me cry, even thinking of it now,
As if I'm gonna die and won't remember how...

The feelings I have for him will remain the same,
Even though it makes me feel stupid and insane...

I'd give my life for him,
I'd just lay it on the line, 

I'd give my life for him,
To let him know the heart that he'll always have is mine

Just to show him...how much I...care...


Details | Englyn | |

My Valentine Soup

Endear my soul
I pled for quest
Your fortune lo and behold
I pored for adore abreast
Lacked in notion by the unspoken magna cum laude
I searched for hope, peacefully at rest. 

Love thirst for lust
I longed for my desire
Your fortune lo and behold 
I last for a threshold to admire
Belie by the vile magna cum laude
I held down so that my mien aspire. 

Unholy my pilgrim
I tossed for my solitaire
Your fortune lo and behold
I graced for a mighty meriting layer
Avowed by the chromatic symbiosis magna cum laude
I breathed to my valentine, preached for an eonian prayer.  


Details | Personification | |

Step by Step

Yiddy awdy those ticks are here to stay.
Here and there but everywhere astray.
 
Tick tack I am going to laugh at that.
On the Moon or on the Sun I have sat.
 
Jump started or kick started my day has begun.
I’m holding a life of lifetimes on the go or run.
 
Yicky yacky just what is it that I am to do?
Run all over the galaxies in search of you?
 
Shucks you mucks, I’d do it all over again.
But from time to time you stop when I begin.
 
It’s a life of life’s bundling into one row.
Yet it is step by step in which it can grow.
 
 
© Copyright: Ann Rich   2007


Details | I do not know? | |

Chaos

Immaculate
Random
Gorgeous
Heroic
Expanding mind
Taste Sampling
Divine
Forbidden pleasure
Amazing
Mind numbing
Glorious
Thought inducing
Seducing
Selfless
Explosion
Bright
Last Night


Details | Light Poetry | |

' A Rainbow - Mist ... '

Leave Behind Drab-Disapproving Crowds
Run In  Rainbow-Mist, A Bright-Prism-Cloud
Where Iridescence Gleams Unbound
Sparkles, Head To Toe … Sky To Ground
Pssst (Listen)… One Place, Where One Is Found:

… In Sunshine and Sprinklers Going ‘Round ! …


Details | Lyric | |

Dard

"Badi Tassalli Se Toda Tha Tumne hamara Dil.
Hum Aaj Bhi Mohabbat Nahi Kar Paaye."


Details | Rhyme | |

Summer's Slumber -Kissing The Moon

                                                            
                                                                    **~~**

 
  The balmy summer breeze 
Gently caresses the harvest saffron moon
  While it dreams memories of autumn’s golden red kiss
Trees are shedding their emerald green summer tresses
  Kindly kissing the Earth as their garments fall gently below
And flowers have shed their vivid colorful dresses
  As crimson amber leaves gently anoint the ground for show
 
While Summer sheds her beautiful clothes -
  Mother Nature lovingly seduces her to dream
She's kissed the shore with her elegant colorful attire
  She has painted the world with her exquisite apparel 
So now it's time for her yearly seasonal retire
  She paraded us with her resplendent painted scenes
Blessed the birds in their angelic symphony of songs
  So now -it’s time for her to drink the dreams of slumber
Taking the cup of restful sleep - is now where she belongs
 
She asks the moon to wait patiently...
  For her splendid colorful return
When she'll paint the world with her radiant painted tresses
  Where once more her regal colors will burn
She'll brush the Earth in regal glorious colors 
  Dressing up again in her brilliant, picturesque dresses
As the ruby red blaze of autumn begins to kiss the Earth 
  With her dazzling hues of gold and coral valor 

But before she goes...
  She gently reaches out with her one last caress...
Softly whispering as she sweetly kisses the moon
  ”It’s time now for fall - it’s time for me to undress”
She softly breathes her dulcet ending tune...
  "Goodnight", she gently whispers ...
"I’ll see you soon Mr. Moon
   Please...will you wait for my return? 

Quietly - she drifts into her splendid, peaceful dreams…
  Slumbering peacefully - 
Safely harbored in Mother Nature’s loving arms 
  As mellow zephyrs gently caress autumn's waiting whispers
While the moon drizzles its shimmering dusty charms
  Serenading nature with his soft silvery tune 
As this luminous gleaming Luna Mister 
  Cordially opens his welcoming hands 
To September's colors of orange and golden browns
Awaiting the arrival of dancing petals
As he gently embraces autumn's leaf draped lands 

Next he’ll greet the season’s sister 
  From the pristine silverblue Northern Isles...
Awaiting dancing ivory snowflakes he'll cheerfully greet winter 
  With his warm welcoming golden smile 

 


Details | Free verse | |

A Crystal that Darkens

Winter is also celibate.  The conscience is moving,
A frozen light in a frozen eye.  It's raining much looser,
Down a ripped tree.  I couldn't have, 
I couldn't have, in this sin-sick tenderness.
              ___

My face is cracked in my fawnlike fingers;
And the nose betrays an inner child, who
Wouldn't listen to sparrows about being catched.
I just insisted fur was wings.
              ___

The feminine chill on the palm must be sorrow;
When I think of church bells, or mother- 
That I am haunting as raw love.


Details | Rhyme | |

A Make Believe

In a corner our eyes did meet.
But I was sitting on the mercy seat.
 
I looked you over once or twice.
I even rolled the domino dice.
 
A shadow appeared before me.
At that time I was a make believe.
 
When the shadow left a light appeared,
Time stopped and distance neared.
 
I traveled afar and my journey never ends.
Backwards or forwards eternity it sends.
 
In another lifetime perhaps was I.
Deluded and misled asking why.
 
But no more I say honestly to you.
Another make believe will never do.
 
 
© Copyright: Ann Rich   2007


Details | Cowboy | |

Still Here

Though you slipped
from this earth 
so long ago
nigh on twenty years
 
I still feel you
here beside me
Hear your voice 
within my soul 

As I walk 
behind the back chutes
at the Sonoita Rodeo
your ghost elusive
follows me 

I guess it's true
what the old ones say
about gone but 
not forgotten 

For You're still here
in heart & spirit
every melody & tune
I dance in memory
with you

(c) September 2002


Details | Rhyme | |

Entering the Real World

I'm well aware that you all are my partners
I'm well aware that you all are my friends
But the times are changing and fate is so cruel
We'll never share another word once we're done with school

At best we've got three months before fate splits us all
Humanity cannot hope to resist time's call
The shock will be great and I'll dearly miss you all
The sun's setting soon and our shadows are tall

And I don't ever wanna feel like it was all for naught
Twelve of my grandest years, these battles that we fought
And I don't ever wanna feel like it was all for naught
Even though the end is near, is this what I sought?

It's hard to believe that it's almost time to
Leave the ways I've only known my whole life
But the halls have grown thin, is this what it's come down to?
To leave this place behind and move on with my life

But I don't ever wanna feel like something's been left behind
Everyone I know and love, imprinted in my mind
And I don't ever wanna feel like I never said good-bye
When everyone I know and love go by like fireflies

Entering the real world now
Leaving the womb I know

Entering the real world now
It's time to start the show

Entering the real world now
No time to question why

Entering the real world now
It's time to say good-bye


Details | Free verse | |

Summer Life as a Kid

Sweet Summer breeze
scraped n' bruise covered knees
sidewalk chalk marks on your jeans
torn clothes, worn as badges of Adventure
popsicle stained lips
secret crush kisses
Summer life as a kid
I truly miss it

Snatching fireflies from the skies
watching sunsets dashed with
cayenne pepper cotton candy
clouds
Sunnies nibbling toes
filled with stale bread from mom
kick the can, truth or dare, hide & go seek
mud pie smiles, warm chocolate chip cookies to eat
Summer life as a kid
I truly miss it

Grandmas sweet tea conversations on the porch
covert midnight campfires with friends
from spying little sisters
Ghost stories to tell, marshmallows to toast
climbing trees, fairy tale dreams
being the first one picked
for the kickball team
Summer life as a kid
I truly miss it


Details | Sonnet | |

The Embracing

I cut through tedious chit-chat,
Null knick-knacks!
Zap Idiotic whacks!
I tip toe tapping atop pitters pat.
I’m your best bet seated where you once sat.
Smearing out your tad-bit lacks,
Running them out by the packs,
I tip my hat fancying you purr like my fat-cat.

Up and away my hands shall uplift weights like you.
In and out of reality I’ll take you with me everywhere.
If only you knew how well I’m too do getting through.
Do you think one day to obtain me to be eh unaware?

Personally, I’d charge a big fat whacked out idiotic fee for the likes of thee,
I’m declared as freely expressing many pleasures for the embracing of me.

® Registered: 2010 Ann Rich


Details | Free verse | |

Softly

I think I’m starting to realize 
How much I took for granted 
As time goes by, and heartache 
I hear your voice softly… 

I didn’t know how to love you 
All I know is that I wanted to 
Now that we’re apart 
The clock ticks on, softly… 

I wish getting over you 
Was easier than this 
Perhaps it’s because you 
Touched my heart softly… 

Parting is such sweet sorrow, 
When the pain comes too soon 
Loving smiles turn into something else 
As time passes none too softly… 

When the skies turn 
like gray, dust inside my mind 
and then the rain comes, 
dripping to the ground, softly… 

Now whenever I see a rose 
Or think of springtime breezes 
I see your eyes in my mind 
The tears fall softly… 


Details | Lyric | |

Sweet Seduction

[Verse 1]

My blood is ice inside your veins
Crawling underneath my skin
The price we pay to earn that name
The battle that we never win
Falling faster far below
Further into darkest depths
The kiss of death that you bestow
The poison that is on your…lips

[Chorus]

Sweet seduction
Drug addiction
Words that only he can mend
Sweet seduction
My affliction
Rise to only meet the end

[Verse 2-change]

Your thoughts they plant a grave in me
Like missiles shooting through the skies
The pain you watch but never see
Crystals falling from my eyes
Your words they feel like razor blades
Your touch like acid on the skin
Your love this agonizing pain
The battle that I’ll never…win

[Chorus]

[Breakthrough]
Swallowed up by
Sounds of screaming
Asking questions
Without meaning
Fall away…
FADE AWAY!!!!

[Chorus]
Sweet seduction
Drug addiction
Words that only he can mend
Your destruction
My affliction
Rise to only meet the end

The end…


Details | I do not know? | |

Love Endures

Love floats by,


reaching,
tantalising,
meandering,


tip-toeing past pain,


leaping through walls,
weakening the barricades,


of the most private heart.



Love settles in,


trusting,
searching,
dissolving,


quietly beyond anguish,


erasing the desolation,
soothing a battered spirit,
enveloping the shivering soul.



Love stays, it is true,


love endures, as do you






Details | I do not know? | |

Last Time Forever

A mother’s loving look at her newborn child,
Never able to relive that moment again.
For it’s the last time forever.

Walking into kindergarten for the first time,
Feeling so alone and afraid, don’t fear
For it’s the last time forever.

Kneeling in prayer as you are born again,
Living as a sinner no longer,
For it’s the last time forever.

Walking across stage on graduation night,
Nervous because it’s your last few steps as a “child”,
For it’s the last time forever.

Praying to God to help you jump the hurdles,
Seeing prayers being answered, never doubt
For it’s NOT the last time forever.


Details | Free verse | |

Time

Time. 
A challenge all of mankind faces, but yet I feel so alone. 
How am I supposed to deal with this?
Is there a book written that tells me how I can face the omnipresent calendar, who judges my character when I fail to meet his deadlines?
Because when I slow down I have to remember. 
The world doesn't stop with me.
It continues. 
Seasons and people change and go. 
They don't wait for me.
I am moving forward, trying to evolve into a butterfly. 
But to this fat caterpillar, it seems impossible.
The world never stops. 
It doesn't give me a chance to breathe. 
A chance to worry about the person I'm becoming.
A chance to change my ways and realize what lies ahead. 
A chance to look up into the skies above.
Above me, what is above me?
Is there a god, mocking me, preventing my transformation?
Or is there a glass faced clock, ticking slowly, begging me to bide my time.


Details | Free verse | |

School days

The busy hours at nine, running at the last minute. Those never ending classes now i miss them in every minute.. Give me back my school days is the only thing to say. Let me go to school for once, that's the only prayer i pray. The heap of lunch boxes and the rush for the recess break, give me back my school days is the only wish to make. Last night study and crying for buddy, i really miss them all teachers question and empty faces makes me laugh when i recall getting a star or a zero makes no difference right now, i wanna have my school days back please give it to me somehow...


Details | Narrative | |

He Left These Here for You

Granddad saved change under the paper in his dresser drawer.
We never dared to look and see how much he had to share.
He saved it there with a purpose; to give when I was there.
For a nickel I would comb his hair; a quarter bought a shave.
He loved to give me money; I loved the way he cared.
A playful sort, he loved to laugh; he always teased and joked.
There was endless time to play with me; that’s how my granddad was.

My granddad grew a garden, the prettiest one in town.
I would help him plant the rows of corn.
Three seeds dropped in each hole that he made.
Row after row, together we worked our way down.
And when the work was completely done, it was time for fun!
A shave, hair comb, and a pedicure would make him fall asleep.
Grandma brought bright red polish to decorate his feet!

When he'd wake up, I’d sit on the floor, knowing what was next.
He would bring out coins from his dresser drawer
And laugh about his toes…  (A tradition as my grandmother knows.)
He was always amused while I counted all of my loot.  
He would tease and laugh and taunt.  To me, he was number one!
At age eighteen, while in the Army, the horrible message came.
Granddad had died from an allergy; life would never be the same.

I tried not to cry, like I promised him; I could not bear the pain.
He loved me so and I loved him.  I felt so alone.
How could I go through life and never hear his voice.
I must go on; we had talked of this; even now, he still is missed.
I didn't go home for many years; when I did…he wasn’t there.
Emptiness came over me, and an ocean full of tears.
Then, Grandma took me to his drawer… “He left these here for you.”

© July 9, 2011
Dane Smith-Johnsen 


Details | Rhyme | |

Life Compass

Sometimes I look up
and see Orion there,
his eyes calm and focused
in an eternal stare.
A guardian of stars
A keeper of the night,
he brings me back home
when I've lost my sight.


Details | Haiku | |

Haiku Collection: two

1.
Giant oak alive - 
If you could talk,what stories
Would you tell the world?
2. 
Ornamental sky~
Your melody of grandeur
Sings the earth awake.
3.
Music of the rain,
Your melody is soothing 
To my weary heart.
4. 
The moon overhead
And you standing in it's glow-
I am overwhelmed.
5.
Where bloom the roses,
Love can't be to far behind-
The two always meet.


Details | Free verse | |

The Bird that is Loved and Loathed

It burns and it stings.
It hurts.
More than drowning beneath 
the ice.
More than remaining in a 
kindled flame
She hits and I no longer cry.
Why mother, why? 

It burned and it stung.
The markings remained, 
returned, and were relived
Looking, loving, and little 
known loathing were the known 
ways of living.
Never was their pity for the 
child that cried
Never was their relief for the 
child that tried

You were that lovely bird that 
understood the complications of 
felicity 
Nothing looked the same in 
those dewy browns of yours.
My everbeating would cry tears 
of joy.
The others-they were yet to 
appear.
Caring Mother, o' so fair
 You were that beautiful bird 
filled with care.

The others came and were not 
alone. Their two suitors sat on 
the throne.
Rampage and rage why did you 
come?
I began to wither and wither 
slumping along. So very soon I-
the child of fines- became a 
human raceme. 
The droops of the Lily of the 
Valley became the slumping of 
my heart.
My lovely bird the enemy had 
taken you and the person you 
were is far from near.
For that divine nature left its 
intricate self and you became 
irretrievable my big bird.
All of your fairness died.
With that went my pride.
 
Mother, Mother what moved 
you so? 
Your intense spirt vanished only 
to supplement a monster. 
Mother, Monster and your tar 
filled lungs. 
How did I kill that liver that was 
so, so strong?
The lesson of pain was one you 
came to learn.
My darling bird why did you 
turn?
 
My lovely bird and your big 
brown eyes
I'll tell you once, but never 
twice.
Pain is only a flower for it 
blooms and dies
And a mistake can be killed as 
quickly as lice.
 You dear bird hurt me well. 
Though, haven't you heard?
Weakness is a souls greatest 
strength.
You brought me up, then you 
brought me down.
You haved helped, hurt, and 
hindered my blazing spirit.
A hero in my heart-I left you 
down in your deep black 
slumber. 
Escaping those terrible nights
To go for the town of delights. 


Details | I do not know? | |

NOTHING MORE

The love we shared had been wasted
If the hearts are always different
Until when should I last?
Frustrations felt in my heart 

If ever we are still together
Can never become one again
Though there are remains of our love
Just leave it to end up here

There are no hopes anymore
There are no dreams anymore
Leave me alone without you

There are no words that my love can say
Never will I go back to you
Let me keep all the memories we had


Written in the presence of a friend, Fhaieye that is later slain by an unknown gunman after 
few days in the vicinity of their university in Zamboanga City.
 


Details | Light Poetry | |

Leafraker response

Leafraker, was deep and insightful
Though through his woe, one can be spiteful
To drag his body from the depths
And succeed beyond that of the flesh
So, too he joins in mans defeat and the dawn of anew
Grasping hold of the light as darkness acts in que

The autumn leaves are a sign of a coming winter
But hark in the coming joy! For with earths fire is tinder
A conclusion, climax, end, and final adieu
Speaks of the history of a separate story starting like you
Birth!
From the great mother, her bosom springing 
A new species adjusted like Darwin’s singing!

The dead leaves shrivel and crumple underfoot!
But so to fire creates ash to pock grainy soot
As prelude does not one enjoy the coming of?
The brining about that comes from action and love?
The love of the here and now as Joseph Campbell spoke
Eternity exists with every now provoked

The fields of leaves abound ever acre in scores
but all creatures must attend to this for more
Whether hiding from beast or building an empire with decay
Others growing underneath battling the colds parley

A party exists for what gain? Only to happen again and again
Composer’s notes yield a pause only and refrain
The leafraker is a symbol of change my friend
A semblance of the spring of that’s is rapture like the wind

I say to you under starry sky tonight
Focus on what you can attain with every flicker of the light
But do not sadden when your book is at an end
Look to the new world that exists in your mind to begin
Spark! The light does reign in but wobble under a black hole
So too does the leafraker as new seasons take hold

Speak to me? For when it is spoken it came into being!

--10/18/08 in response to stimuli


Details | Light Poetry | |

' The Day, Was A Holy Day ... '

This Day, Was A Holy Day
As Crystal Drops Came Down
A Beautiful Display
And Soothing Sound

Like An Echo of Joyous Children
Or A Drum-Roll Softly Nearing
Or Like Angels Were Cheering … 
That’s What … It Was Like Hearing !

And It Poured Like A Pitcher
Cool, and Smooth and Clean
Slanting On My Window
Inspiring Me To Sing:

 - - - - - - -

“  Pitter-Patter, Pitter-Patter
Today … Nothing Is The Matter
Plop, Plop, Splatter, Splatter
Inside, We’re All Together

Washing Away Every Tear
Rinsing Away, Every Fear
Refreshing Every Year … 
… Raindrops, Touched Our Dears “

- - - - - - -

This Day, Water Came In Streams
But No Thunder or Lightning Screams
Just Innocent, Wistful, Wet Dreams
And Later, Rainbow Gleams

(And Waiting For Tonight’s Moonbeams) …

Today … Was A Holy Day
As Crystal Drops Came Down
A Beautiful Display
And Soothing Sound …


Details | Verse | |

Love it

I love it when you're kissing me
I love it when your hands touch my thighs
Passion slowly increasing
breathing deeper
Gaining momentum for the moment 
that draws nearer
Now you're whisperin in my ear
Temperature's rising
moaning, grinding
my body to the rhythm of each 
breath
Enjoying kisses with your tongue on 
my neck
While creating secrets between us 
that manifest
into beautiful stories of lust and 
fantasy
Unafraid to confess 
Rivers flow
The scent of the pheremones 
The beat that the song's on
Tuned in to your passion 
I’m feeling it’s time to make this happen
Finally releasing fear and stress
through pure emotion and love 
Freedom from hurt and distress
I love it when you’re kissing me
I love it when your hands touch my thighs...


Details | Lyric | |

Dusty Road

Sometimes I dream about old dusty roads
Driving through the dirt, with no where to go
I've passed many hitchhikers
Their showin skin and money
But none of that means anything to me
None of that means anything to me

I keep driving along that old dusty road
Searching for the reason, why I even left home
I keep driving through the dirt and the mud
Thinking of all the things that I have done

I shift into neutrul as I cruise down a hill
My mind slips for a bit
And a deer ran out from a feild
I slammed on the brakes
And dust flew up high
That's when I knew that everything was alright

I keep driving along that old dusty road
Searching for the reason, why I even left home
I keep driving through the dirt and the mud
Thinking of all the things that I should have done

My car has ran out of gas 
And this lonely road becomes clear
What would have been different if I stopped
To talk to the hitch hikers and the deer
Maybe if I picked them up, theyd help me push my car
Or maybe they would robbed me dry
And killed me with a crobar
Or maybe I'd just drive by and pretend they werent there
Cause they were never there
No they were never there

I'm pushing my car down an old dusty road
Wondering why I still haven't gone home
My shoes are covered in dirt and mud
Giving proof of something that I have done


Details | Ode | |

Pyramid-Maker

From a three-sided angle
Astrological purpose is unmangled
Triangle on top
Square on the bottom
Bright halo around God
Our tears fill His bottle
A Pyramid is a monument to death
A Tabernacle of wealth
Which comes into effect
When there's no longer breath
Is it mourning or celebration in stealth
Beyond Technology
Architectural prophecy
Geometrical philosophy
The place where Kings and Queens lay
Buried on a sun-disk
Dedicated to Day
The final form to decay
Hands form this shape
When they're positioned to pray.


Details | Senryu | |

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

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



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


Details | Light Poetry | |

' The Pied Piper Poem ... '

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

With Gaiety
He Played !
What Childhood
Dreams-Displayed ?

In Each
Cherry-Cheeked Head …
That Followed
Unafraid

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

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

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

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

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


Details | I do not know? | |

You and I



You and I.


You.

Your heart blazed,
with a warmth of spirit,

soothing,

alluring,

soaked in truth.



Your smile burned,
branding me permanently,

gentle,

tender,

enveloping my being.



Your love was complete,
from the depths of your soul,

unsaid,

yet fierce,

bathed in silent knowing.



Your dreams were poetic,
fluttering in the afternoon breeze,
infused with the distilled essence of rhyme.


I.

I squandered your generosity of spirit.

I vainly discarded your priceless poems.


Now I stand,

alone,

empty,

desolate,

wasting away,

rotting inside, day by day.




Details | Elegy | |

My Kashmir Burns (Part 2)

Another son is dead, until five he lived.
For his long life at Shah-Hamdan he had threads tied
“Shehij ninder yee nai. Gahas Kormakh Khudayas Hawale”, his mother cries.
No news can penetrate across the mountains. Satellites work here no more
My Kashmir burns. And no one knows.
An old woman with torn scarf sits besides fire. While feeding her neighbor’s child
She sighs. Is my son dead or alive? She silently cries.
In Madrasa I hear children reciting Quran. A girl’s come out dragging her feet.
I remember her from somewhere. I remember her seeing naked. 
Oh! God she is the one who was raped.

Nights have turned pitch black. My eyes are losing the habit of sight
Midnight soldier’s set another house ablaze. At least there is some sort of light.
Many letters have been written to God. Postcards posted of those raped girl’s 
But its curfew again. No post office deliver’s the message again.
Death comes from everywhere. Close your windows mother
For bullet respects no womb. It turned Gulistans into tombs.
From the plains the visitors come to visit their God’s
They are our only witnesses but hypocrites at heart.
They say paradise is kaasmir. While my Kashmir is ablaze
They testify against us. Is anybody witnessing this? No one at all
Be witness to at least this. Open up your eyes my Lord!

When paradise is painted with colors of hell, certainly divinity loses its grace
In the news the reporter is beaten. Bamboo sticks are hungry for human blood.
Let Kashmir go to hell. A new promise in their portfolio.
Threads have given up at Dastegeer’s place. Even they are horrified at our fate.
In Maisuma boys are dragged by police. They close their dreams, end their screams
In a police gypsy.
Men shape into monsters when they are given right to anarchy.
The gypsy drives them into the dark cantonments. They will remember this day
Interrogation officer comes. After celebrating his son’s birthday.
The winds from the cantonments bring their news
Burned tires around their necks. Burning stoves near their heads.
The knife tearing up their flesh.
And the boys cry, “We haven’t batted yet. Cricket. We know nothing”.

Death wants children to be headlines
Hunger has affected the heavens as well.
Graves are full. No more space left.
We need land of the plains. For our graves.
In the ac car the bureaucrat goes. The mother’s with search full eyes
Ask about their sons they lost. They drink their tears
And he sips champagne.


Details | Free verse | |

The Antique Shop

The small antique shop beckons to me as if calling my name I hurry to enter with great anticipation The chime above the door provides an eerie greeting The store is aglow with articles of times past I pass from aisle to aisle my eyes darting from relic to relic I see high top shoes with white laces I see brushes and combs with pearl handles I see pictures in boxes of families in fine clothes I see a doll in the corner eyes staring blankly ahead I see worn dresses on racks with lace collars and bows My journey through time continues as I move on in haste I see a stringless violin in a black scuffed up case I see silverware with fine bone handles I see pocket watches with long golden chains I see hundreds of tiny bottles that once held fine fragrances I see scratched phonograph records strewn hither and yon I see fine tools of the trade in hand crafted cases I see rows of fine china all hand painted with care I see a faded picture of a child with long golden hair Suddenly I pause as my mind starts to reflect Everything before me shelters a story of long ago They are not useless items that I view but the relics of lives past Each article once the personal possession of a living breathing soul With a new respect for the articles before me I move on Ghostly images of faces now accompany each piece that I see If I purchase just one it must be displayed with the utmost dignity For its original owner will have bestowed its care to me I leave the shop with my new treasure all neatly wrapped The chime above the door signals my departure The stale aroma of the shop is replaced by the cool evening air Life, as fragile as the tiny piece of crystal that I carry, goes on Copyright 2007 Charlie Gragg


Details | Imagism | |

A Moment's Wisp

I felt the Sun breathe it's life 
as you became 
revealed inside a dream of golden fire
touching in a rainbow hue of colors 
resting on a dying mist
living but 
a moment's wisp.


Details | Narrative | |

The Hidden Haven

What is held beneath the hidden haven is such a mystery.
Looking in and looking out never a dream and never a doubt.
Souls in need for mercy to plea a soul driven just to be set free!
The hidden haven remains such a mystery all throughout.
Obscuring what life is really all about and drenched in all of its diversity.
What is held beneath the hidden haven can never be known.
Many more tears are yet to come,
All hidden where we all begun,
A need to be loved with a place to belong with a chance to grow!
The hidden haven remains a dark mystery that’s all alone.
Concealing what life has really shown,
Omitting my every attempt to reach out and truly be done.
What is hidden beneath the hidden haven is between me with you.
A clear moment with your brightest light,
All given and laid before your eyes very own sight.
The force of strength will carry us through!
The hidden haven remains a mystery with the life we will choose.
Provoking the battle that is prepared to fight,
Crushing the life you always knew,
The hidden haven can never be known.
It is hidden!
For it is deep!
A soul that absorbs life alone,
A moment forbidden,
But held forever in my keeps!



®Registered: 1997  Ann Rich


Details | Lyric | |

A Bite of Torah

In still serene
	He waits -
To hear a joyous melody
	Of words -
Where union waits
	Between white spaces -
As each draws in their breath.
To lift black letters off the page
	And into Now -
A delicious feast of Torah,
	Eating aleph’s and bet’s  -
	With a side of cheesecake.


                                                   
                                             [For Shavuot]


Details | Lyric | |

Lunar Love

Can this ever stop The world is blacked by the lunar love All the tides have gone undone The seas beckon us with their rage Will they ever calm The mist covers our sight The storm comes Her eyes are the color of dyed blue With her raven hair and crimson lips She sleeps quietly waiting for the innocence of me But I've already put her in vain And tossed her aside I've already condoned my belovéd The desire was so much I couldn't face it In the eyes Forgetting the shame is just a Another winless game Take me away from this Take me away from the Lunar Love The moonbeams light up my pale face I don't want to be seen Banished from this world I'll ever be Take me away from this Take me away from the Lunar Love I cry but the sun cant hear Do I exist? This eclipse took over Now I'm left to face it all Left in the dark where can we go Lunar love is what we'll be Lunar love is what we have Fly away from the scene The tides are blind from the madness Even to the mountains they'll kiss The storm is too much The desire was so much I couldn't face it In the eyes Forgetting the shame is just a Another winless game Take me away from this Take me away from the Lunar Love Lunar love is what we'll be Lunar love is what we have The moonbeams light up my pale face I don't want to be seen Banished from this world I'll ever be Take me away from this Take me away from the Lunar Love The ghosts are tangled in my dreams They play with what was meant to be forgotten But I know there must be a away To find the closure But so lost are we So lost I've been Save yourself from the downfall How close are we to the edge This is what the rage has done This is what the sin has done The desire was so much I couldn't face it In the eyes Forgetting the shame is just a Another winless game Take me away from this Take me away from the Lunar Love The moonbeams light up my pale face I don't want to be seen Banished from this world I'll ever be Take me away from this Take me away from the Lunar Love Lunar love is what we'll be Lunar love is what we have Forgetting the shame is just a Another winless game


Details | Lyric | |

Tears of a Runaway

Tears of a Runaway

Blinded by these tears;
Choking on my useless words;
Heart racing like a horse;
Lungs gasping for air.

I long for that happiness
That I once felt.
Instead, painful memories
Are coming back to hurt me.

Running away
Sounded like a good solution,
Even though I may trip and fall.
I'll just keep on running, 'til I can't run at all.

I trip and completely fall down,
But I don't get up this time.
I’m just lying on the ground, now,
Crying ‘til I can’t cry anymore…tears.

Blinded by these tears;
Choking on my useless words;
Heart racing like a horse;
Lungs gasping for air.

I don’t know what to do now.
I’m just paralyzed on the ground;
Except that I’m also shaking
From all the crying that I’m doing.

Running away
Wish I could say
That I would stay.
But, God, just please help me?

The coldness is wrapping around me
Like it’s a frozen blanket.
Trapped in this cold, cold world
And in my mind, memories swirled.

Blinded by these tears;
Choking on my useless words;
Heart racing like a horse;
Lungs gasping for air.
As I lie here,
I wonder
What it would be like
If my life was happier.

I can’t really say for sure
What would be going on.
But if my life was happier,
I wouldn’t be singing this song.

I once felt that warmth and comfort,
But now it’s gone.
And it’s been so long
That everything in my life now is wrong.

I’m blinded by these tears;
Still choking on my useless words;
My heart still racing like a horse;
My lungs still gasping for air.

These are the tears of a...runaway


Details | Free verse | |

somebody did me wrong

what is interesting
is that
i feel like 
all the others
that say...

"i know just how
you feel"...you know...
those recovered 
ones that are
o.k..now.

i want to tell them
that i am not o.k.
cannot they see i
can hardly 
open my eyes
but for the tears
that are streaming
down my face.???

oh, my darling
i see you everywhere
that you aren't;
but even more painfully
i see you
where you are.


Details | I do not know? | |

From Home

One blink, one breath

Where was time when it should pass? 

For I arrived at the end

Only to know the beginning

For the very first time.


Past, present; meeting, merging

Refusing to fade, unwilling to trade. 


Moment by moment, I sort the pieces

Messed, jumbled, fitting, yet insufficient. 

Taking a step back, gazing at the empty,

Have I the right pieces,

Or have I  the wrong plan?


A day gained, a day lost,

To waste not another I must.

So in dark, in deep, with You alone,

For now, I start from home. 


-AfterTim-
http://after-tim.blogspot.com


Details | Free verse | |

What Will I Be

What will I be?
When the flowers of spring shrivel in upon themselves,
Cradling their heads like the sick,
the elderly,
the lost.
Every line of faces I’d once known
withering away to pruning beings,
left in sun too long.
When each ocean has dried up,
leaving nothing but ancient salts,
somber and decayed to debris and dirt.
Every memory I’d once had,
falling from an empty skull
without lips, or ears, or eyes.
As flesh clings to hollow bones rotting beneath the weight of soil,
heavy on such a sunken chest,
carrying those heavy, lonely burdens.
When the smoldering stars extinguish in a flash of smoke and stardust,
and the remnants of every wish on comets
billows down from the sky to my hands.
What will I be?
When fatal disease courses through your worn veins,
and recollections slowly begin to cease
as you sway further and further into blurring lands.
Meanwhile my heart grows heavy with every last breath you take,
every last word you manage,
and every faint beat of your heart becomes
the march of death as it slows,
to lead you where I’ll never reach.
What will I be?
When every single touch,
and smell,
and sight,
and taste,
and sound
of everything I knew,
spills like sands from shattered glass,
never to be forged again to something I could hold.
What will I be?
When everything I know is gone.


Details | Haiku | |

Snow, Winter's Long Quilt

Snow, Winter’s long quilt,
Land’s white, night beauty treatment....
Future drink for spring.


Details | Blank verse | |

Clutter Clearing

Attack the clutter
In the attic pieces of life
And bits of me
So much clutter, sorting through
Old letters flutter
Unwanted, unread
Daring me to show I care
To reach through time
So dust-dimmed ink
Can speak again.
“Into the sack with you.
I have a job to do”

There’s all this papier maché
A flaming crown with snake entwined
I was the wicked queen
One Halloween
Daniel was a devil
Here are his horns
And a tail in a paper bag
Too good to throw
But this other stuff can go.
Made from the Financial Times
Significantly pink, a gun
So many things begun


I mutter “So long, adieu
This day of clearing clutter
Is so long overdue”
Now that could be a poem
And, right on cue
From a stack of boxes
A sheaf of paper slithers down
Littering the floor
I gather up the poems
Like a gleaner in the field
Picking out choice phrases
And, sitting among the boxes
I read them all
then put them back

Old photographs reproach me
Unsorted, stuffed in envelopes
Waiting for something
Or someone
Who never came
Adieu adieu
Wait, here’s a name
“To Mary
With love from Freddy.
I am in the back row
Second from left”

A group of smiling boys
Dressed as soldiers
Captured
By the camera’s shutter
A sixtieth of a second, in 1942
All dead now
adieu adieu
So much clutter
There’s so much time
Spent sorting through
And in the plan-chest
So many plans
Pause to reminisce
Remember this?
Posters made for Art School films
Drawings, prints and paintings
They call to me
But I am determined
I put them in the sack
Pieces of life and bits of me
So much clutter,
And when I’m through
I’ll have some space
To move
Adieu


Details | Haiku | |

A Visit

Sepulchral shadows
Like gargoyles laughing madly
Haunt the painted walls.


Details | Free verse | |

little pale lies


sometimes, i get a wave of sadness over me.

i love you, and i want to be with you,

but

you deserve someone

a little less neurotic

and

a little more normal.

someone who is honest when she whispers, “I’m so happy”

under the covers.

you make me happy.

but you shouldn’t have to change me like that.


Details | Free verse | |

Alone

The warm concrete kissed my cheek
when I had finally stopped falling

and I lay there, 
at peace in the sunshine,
bruises on my knees and
scrapes on my hands
bleeding oh so quietly

while I sang my uplifting songs of gratitude.

It's finally happened,
I met the ground,
The world quit spinning
all around
The clock just stopped
The pain just quit
I just embraced my moment
while my throat was slit

I sang and sang and lay and prayed,
My time has come, it's over now, bless my soul
forgive my sins
--scratch that--
I don't give a sh**

Just leave me be, here on the ground
Let me sing without a sound

Let me be at peace 
In my effortless glow
Let me have my minute
Of being alone.


Details | I do not know? | |

Pleasure Is

Pleasure is.
So sweet the seasons sounds,
That makes for those summer days.
Skies make for a back drop of hues of blue,
Sweet mowing grass now sheared as hay.

Upon my face the beads of perspiration,
As I wipe my fevered brow.
The days now long as I swing forth the scythe,
High above the sun beats down.

A shout breaks my concentration,
For it is Mary who is my love.
Under a large oak tree she shelters,
Truly a pure vision from above.

For with her a wicker basket,
Its contents now lay out before.
She beckons me come forward,
Asl my senses cry out for more.

In her tender arms my head gently lies,
Beneath a canopy of green.
 Dappled sun light highlights her flowing hair,
For the world id trade, for these moments gleaned.

©N . Windle. 2009	



Details | Free verse | |

Now I Am Free from My Step-parent

A life of beauty and happiness denied, of innocence 
smothered like a flame, I have always lived; but when 
I hear your lovely voice, my Lisa--

now I am free.

I was dead before I even entered into this world, a
place cruel and without feeling, cruel and without 
the love and understanding I finally know in the rich 
harmonies of your voice, my Lisa--

which sets me free.

Before I could even hope to bloom like a sensual
flower caught breathless and naked in the first, rainy
sunbeams of spring a great evil--the threatening, 
inner hostility of a dark figure overflowing with 
bigotry--transformed me into a joyless 

waste of ashes.

From that terrible moment on I fought all the ugly
and horrible assaults as his unwilling possession, a
gladiator in the arena of his constant abuse and 
myriad threats, subject to his occasional hostile 
looks from 

across the dinner table.

But when I hear your voice and imagine its tender-
ness and compassion as an unearned gift meant for 
me despite him and my child-like self-loathing: 

I feel the love and self-worth denied me, taken from
me simply because it was too easy to not rape from 
a child whose only fault was that he was born 

defenseless and
white.

O Lisa! Because of the music of your lovely voice--
now I am free! Free from my years as a gladiator in 
the arena of his constant abuse and attacks; 

free to bloom like a sensual flower caught breathless
and naked in the first, rainy sunbeams 

of Spring again!


Details | Lyric | |

Dream Liberty -- Butterfly Effect

Butterflies quietly fluttering In my soul Transforming my life Morphing into something so unreal So Different, silently beautiful So hidden and lost A fire dances on my pale iced face Lively prancing as each sheds more light The embers glow in your singed shadow Was this eternity meant to last forever? I couldn't believe that a simple flap of butterfly wings could cause such a storm, a storm in my mind The simplest things causing the greatest of pains Why cant I be one of them Forever and free I'll be with my dream of liberty Punishing the dead Can you never let anything go Is it all to hard to see That your bias takes you on a blinded delusion Where all they plunder is hate Terror is a virtue When becoming a king So cut off the strings of my life With your power And you will see the strength of the dream of Liberty I couldn't believe that a simple flap of butterfly wings could cause such a storm, a storm in my mind The simplest things causing the greatest of pains Why cant I be one of them Forever and free I'll be with my dream of liberty I couldn't believe that a simple flap of butterfly wings could cause such a storm, a storm in my mind The simplest things causing the greatest of pains Why cant I be one of them Forever and free I'll be with my dream of liberty


Details | Free verse | |

The Eternal Infernos of Pain

Front and Center!
Those Gates adorned with pearls in Heaven.
White angels soaring. 

If by chance, 
Ordered to enter;
Through St. Peter's Permission; 
I demand from you chancellor; 
A swift insanity plea, submission. 
For this troubled soul is plagued, 
By vast displays of wicked ways. 

None lost. 
Courtesy of meticulous examination. 
Love lost. 

Diligence pending Investigation. 
Key Evidence, perpetually documented 
In Sin's ominous catalog. 
Rebuke my Judge! 
For multitudes of shortcomings, 
He failed to ascertain. 

Moreover, present was He, 
When Satan drafted me. 
First round,
Pick three.
His Fantasy League...
"The Eternal Infernos of Pain" 

JS Lambert



Details | I do not know? | |

More than weather, can be frightful or Unseasonal Christmas

Used to be the weather was frightful
People covered themselves from head to toe
Now, despite the fact it’s Christmas season
I see more sand, than I see snow
The temperatures keep on elevating
To the moon, they just seem to rise
Oh, where is the Christmas of yesterday
The rosy cheeks, windows fogged with ice

It’s just too warm now for Christmas
Too hot to shop, too hot to run around
Santa’s working at the pole in a speedo
That’s nothing, we wanna see come to town

Frosty, it seems we’re not gonna see him
Heat miser, now, has gotten his day
Can’t ole Jack Frost do something about this
And chase the warm weather away
No need to chop wood set for burning
The heated air replaces that in the hearth
I hope it gets cold and very soon, too
Because Christmas puts warmth in everyone’s heart

It’s just too warm now for Christmas
Too hot to shop, too hot to run around
Santa’s working at the pole in a speedo
That’s nothing, we wanna see come to town

Oh, when Christmas day finally gets here
Right now, I’ll tell ya, all I wanna see
Are people with scarves and gloves on their hands
And snow bringing life to all barren trees
I want the temps to chill me right to the bone
That’s when I’ll know it’s Christmas time
Who wants to look up and see a sleigh
With a fat man in a speedo, flying around

It’s just too warm now for Christmas
Too hot to shop, too hot to run around
Santa’s working at the pole in a speedo
That’s nothing, we wanna see come to town


Details | Free verse | |

A mothers love

She left me in the empty darkness
So lost in the world I search for her,
An invisible force drags me to the forlorn eagle,
Both our chains bond together
And Eagle and I entwine our souls, 
Thus we embark on our desperate journey,
We ascend over peaked rising mountains,
And failing White clouds,
Searching for the unknown piece,
That has chained us to the ground,
Gazing through his eyes in the sky, we see her,
We watch her nurture the flowers on the land,
So provoked we christen to her in the weightless air,
Sensing my voice she lifts her porcelain head,
Familiar of her smile I sense a separation commence,
Zooming in on her face I feel the knots tighten,
Disillusioned By the sight of her eyes, 
There is nothing but despair,
And once again we ascend over peaked rising mountains,
And failing white Clouds,
Searching for that unknown piece,
That has chained us to the ground,
And fixated on the earth we spot her,
And once again we christen to her in the weightless air,
Discerning us in the Violet sky,
She Smiles and signals us to come,
The knots begin to loosen,
But as we progress closer I hear her call my name
Listening to her foreign voice I flee,
So distressed by this misconstrue event,
My hope begins to diminish with the clouds,
So we flee to the forgotten rock,
And sit on the rusted gray stone looking unto the sky
And watch history reveals itself through the stars,
And we travel back in time to obtain her,
We wish to feel her presence,
To touch her delicate soft skin,
And to have her hold us once more in her arms,
But as we search through time and space,
I cannot find one sole essence of her Existence


Details | Couplet | |

Haven

                                                   
Above me I hear the pounding shells,
The mechanical sound of war.
And like so many, just cannon fodder,
In my mind hard to ignore.

They say that times a healer,
My thoughts still far away.
To see the cradle of my youth,
And the haven of yesterday.

Under the canopy of subtle green,
Down a little leafy lane.
A wooden stile sit’s, a gateway,
My hope that some thing’s, stay the same.

Though the pathway to it now is worn,
By those who have gone before.
In it’s post carved forgotten loves,
Now on show for ever more.

From the time of it’s construction,
It has watched the world go by.
Sweet hearts filled, with loves emotions
A teardrop wiped, a final kiss, is this goodbye.

And through out the year it stands there,
As each season comes then goes.
A robin red breast say’s good morning,
As it shake’s off the winter snow.

© Nicholas Windle 2008


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Emotional Hole

I did not find myself to be so important
So I ask my friends do I seem distant?
When I ask the question I had received an answer, Yes
So I think that made it clear that I had been not the best
I am a friend of a friend that talks so many things
That friend talks to much it is insane and insanity it brings
I do care, about my friends they are all good people
They tend to stand on their high steeple 
Today I find myself not so aware
Disbanding my fear of regret and care
Walking many different paths I see that I have found holes
It is the path that people choose to use to fuel their rage with coals
Coals are partially burnt wood or fossils a piece of fuel
It is the source of burden and fire a rage of emotions that stands cruel
It can be warm and caring, but it also can be baring
I just start to feel so low, below the ground I keep on staring
I reach for my friends so many times I feel so ignorant at times
Just once I feel I should not rely on them when feeling I can not find 
I dig my hole deeper and I can not climb out
For some reason I am just full of doubt
I care about so many things and what I have is confusion
One person should be all I should think about to get out of that illusion
My battle in my heart and mind is not at all so pleasant
I feel so alone in an island that is shaped like a crescent
My emotions is like coinciding with a diameter of the semicircle
Not a full emotion that is complete like a circle
My feelings is circular full of incomplete thoughts, so much deeper
I feel it will wake up my evil half a evil soul that is a sleeper
What question should I ask myself? to believe that I am not so alone
As I feel like a person who is deteriorating to the bone
I ask my friends the same question once again
I figure I should do it, to know what kind of feelings I should end
So many thoughts that come out of my feeling
I feel like my friends take, an emotional trauma of stealing
They ask me questions and I answer theirs
But when I need mine answered I feel burning inside like a flare
Are they even friends when they do not take me serious in anyway
Just put me in my hole cause I feel nothing in their will be getting in my way
It's just so simple to answer someones problem
I answer friends with beauty of a rose, but when they answer mine I get the stem
I know the stem is very important in life, with out it how can a rose be a rose
With a hole to put the root and stem in how can it grow
The words we speak I guess is like all natural things we reap and sow


Details | Lyric | |

The Pawn Folly

Sand-like cliffs reaching up as towers
 thier sole purpose, but to measure hours,
 feels a though I'm stuck in a cage
 resulting in more visitations with rage;
 
There's not enough drink to fade it away
 and too much left to quit it, today.
 A good woman could help me put it down
 but, there doesn't seem to be any of them, around.
 
Gravity's pulling just as hard as she'd might
 and, the extra pull, has brought upon us, the night;
 and, just as noon can coerce the dew to fade
 night got real lucky, bartering for trade;
 
for day's sky and night's sky yearned for folly to be
 each dimension's signature for eternity;
 pawn folly was divided into both these domains
 giving birth to split issues, and more difficult planes.
 
But, on l keep trudging, as on l must go
 who'll win in the long-run, believe l'll never know,
 l've donned my best hat and, my only warm cloak
 but it's hard to realize that I'm the butt of the joke!


Details | Lyric | |

I'm Sleeping Outside

I've tried to tamper with such precious time
Looked forward and back with open eyes
I wonder about the day I'll die
Will there be rain or shine?
Maybe both, maybe none
As I speak another life has begun
Wish them luck as they carry on
Bewildered within these starry nights
I thought of time when I have lied
Oh such precious time
It flies
(im sleeping outside)
Signs and dreams lead me to believe
That somehow, some way
I'll be something great
Do I choose to be nieve?
They'll never know
Do I choose to be so weak?
It'll never show
(I'll be sleeping outside)
Love is such a clishey it seems
Something I could only see
Her eyes drew us in like summer heat 
Cupids arrows were made of clay
Oh yes I've longed for this day
I knew I wasnt lying anymore
(I always sleep outside
where the weather is nice
I can feel everything for what it's worth
dont give me signs or written lines
give me your solid words)


Details | Free verse | |

Wisdom as I walked by

How many goodbyes must one try to oblige by,
If I had never uttered such word; then I wouldn't exist,
Maybe if I hadn't tried to play such a big role, then maybe just maybe, 
I can live without greeting a salutation to a day


Details | I do not know? | |

HOME OF TYRANNY

Blood of martyrs dried in the plains
Died in the Valley Mountains
Fighting for independence

Injustices felt when migration arise
In the island of pearls
And in the land of promise

People were put in chaos
When their land grabbed out of laws
Immigrants view as dominant foes

Once an oasis of freedom
Is now a doom of ignorance?
When tyranny became lord of the land

People were driven out of their post
Were given just pinch of hope
To live life in woe forth

Oh the never ending story
Of the endless tyranny
Please leave this home happy!

This poem is dedicated to the people of Sulu and Mindanao
Kg. Bahagia, Sandakan, Sabah, Malaysia
5:35- 6:35 pm, November 13. 07, Tuesday


Details | Free verse | |

MY TRANQUILITY

I've been around the world
I've looked in every corner
I've walked night and day
But still I couldn't find

I ask everybody around
But nobody knew
I've been through impossible
But still I couldn't find

After such a hard task
I've succeed
I was able to find...
...my tranquility

I was living so happy
Without worries
I said, nobody will take my treasure
That I have discover away

A selfishness
That I do not know
Where he came from
Has taken it away

And now just my tears are pouring
I pretend that everything is fine
But in my heart is filling with anger
And the same time terrified

I am asking myself
How I am going to cope
Without my treasure
That has taken more than
A million year, for me to find


Details | Free verse | |

Love Spell

Lost in love, playing truth or dare
 Living in a spell bound worlds affair
 Hide or seek with-in a devils lair
 Slipping all around without a care
 
Leaving behind a million cares
 Paceing myself as the music blares
 Looking back through peoples stares
 Hey me and you in the mirror there
 
Us together make a pair
 Practicing for if your ever here
 Wanting only you to end up there
 Wishing wanting without a fear


Details | Lyric | |

Save Me From Desperation

It's been so long since I could Feel you, Hold You I'm wondering if it was Just an Illusion For love For me could Not be real Nobody could Love over The Borderline, not even I So if you ask you'll know why I silently began to cry I need you here, to hold me I'm so scared without You I just want to Sleep forever Never stray away far Save me From Desperation Never Say It wasn't meant to be I can't take this lie You Kill me With this So much I hurt so much inside these words burn as I cry This life is destroyed without you The joy that comes is the Joy of the Empty The despair I'm prone to maynever wilt I way You could have been there You could have saved me but no you left I was here to stay In the Dark When the razor called me back You could have been my light throughout the eternal black My Soul Has yearned for but where are you Please come back to me I desire just a one word of comfort just from you, only from you Tell me this is just a Lie Just a Hallucination from my Mind I'm suffering I'm Dying I Need you I'm begging just for one word please save me from Desperation I'm the Petal You're the Wind Without You I can never go Far You're not here I'm now stranded alone In the plagued island of my mind only if you were here only If you here You could have Saved Me From Desperation


Details | Ekphrasis (Ecphrasis) | |

American Gothic { Picture Poems}

After noticing a small white house
this painter decided that it would look
fancy if someone would live in it too
so using his sister Nan and his dentist 
Dr. Byron Mckeeby this colonial print 
is mimicking 19th century Americana
And to think that they were never even standing
in front of the house they had been painted separatley





Grant Wood 1930
Americian Gothic

The Art Institute Of Chicago


Entry For Brian Strand's Ekphrasis


Details | Limerick | |

Porky Pig, Elmer Fudd, Bugs Bunny, GPSs

I’m hunting wabbits , are you going too.
Da duh da duh da downtown is a clue.
Watch out for that, doc.
I’ll think I will walk.
Ti, ti, ti, turn quick, wha, wha, what  I do.  


written for
Sponsor Carolyn Devonshire 
Contest Name Techno-Limericks  


Details | Free verse | |

love 9

Caught on the unever grounds of submission
With a never ending option of segression
Talking about the differences of evil and good
Walking among man learning as I should

Memories of ancient Egypt and it's wood
Vibrent obcarities at the mention of your name
Violent observations and from with they came
Fighting over rotted ruins and pegs for a game

Carring over obsecurities of a famous dame
Locked into eternitiy left on what remains


Details | Haiku | |

silhouette

evening silhouettes
the softness of trees
a lingering sunset
farewell
lovely day


Details | Rhyme | |

That Man

I am that man
Who's lived this life since it began
I am that man and I find it's true
That I'm responsible for what I do.

I am said man
The sum of my choices to God's plan
That manifests both lows and highs
Revealing there both truth and lies.

It is I indeed
Rest assured that it is in fact me
Whose path might sometimes take
The more scenic route by mistake.

I am that one
With many battles both lost and won
And, I know that I will lose one more
That day I stand before death's door.

I am the one
Who has to face the things I've done.
I am the one who will one day stand
Before my Maker by holy demand.

So, I am he
With no one else to blame but me
I hope that when I make that stand
I'm not ashamed to be that man.

                             
                         Timothy I. Brumley


Details | Senryu | |

' Prettiest Picture ... ' 49th Senryu

‘ Prettiest Picture … ’      49th  Senryu


    Innocence Lovely
Pretty Picture,  Ever See
    Is My Grandbaby


  ( oooooohhh, Kisses, Kisses, Hugs, Hugs
       Oh How Fast, They Do Grow Up !  )

         A  Happy-MoonBee - (smile)


Details | I do not know? | |

I Stand, Alone



I stand, alone.

Scratching for my truths,
peeling away the veneer,

I stand, alone, before this
impregnable cliff so sheer.

Cocooned in my solitary shell,
wrenching a smile from a tear,

I stand, alone, a little odd,
and definitely quite queer.

I stand, alone.


Details | Narrative | |

To the Siren of the faraway seas

I once thought to have the world within my grasp, that all I needed I already had.
I once thought to be unable to feel more happier than I was while you were around.
Only way to make it better, was to change our worlds of ones and zeroes to contact of the flesh itself.

Even though I realized it, I choose to deny it. I was sorely mistaken about you and I, and this and that.
You smiled when you lied about your feelings.
"I cannot give to you more than this" you said with an evil smirk while observing me from afar.
The smirk, was it real or imaginated?
I do not know, and I fear I will never know, my mind play tricks on me once and again.
Misleading me to believe, like it allowed me to believe in your words.

Words... Amazing how powerful it can be, use it well and one can find pleasure, use it well, and one can find the demise of the soul.
leaving an empty husk behind, like you left me. An empty husk longing to be filled, once again, with the colors of joy.

Coming from the other side of the world, I felt your words and disdain like piercing cold knives straight to my heart, once warm, now cold, since you left.
And following your words you went away to never come back.
Along with you, went away also the joy and happiness I dared to thought to be eternal, a sweet lie I was telling myself...

Even today, after so long, I still think about you and I, your mesmerizing gaze that made me forget and float, your enchanting laughter and the warm and soft touch I told myself that you had.
Touch that I will never feel, laughter I will never hear, again, and eyes that I will never meet, again.
When you left, I was torn, between love and hatred. Now the hatred is gone and the love morphed to friendship, which I would like to share with you.

The Mauritius girl, will my words reach you?
I guess they will not, but I like to hope, to dream.
Hopes and dreams, the accessories of the weak...
A weak being, that I am, a being to be filled with fake bliss, five by day.
Three by the sunrise and  two when the diamonds imbue the skies.
As like that, the curtains shall rise and fall before my eyes, at each passing empty day.

And so I live on, even if that means to not have you anyway I can... The only way I can...
For now, I just wonder, if will I ever find it again while I live? The joy and wonder, I mean.
I ask this chair, I ask the other me on the looking glass and I ask my shadow.
I guess these are the only companionships I will ever have until I meet my final doom.
My shadow, my other broken me and this chair and my memories, of you and I...


Details | Free verse | |

Kiss the Rain

Time off from the chaotic rhythm of the office
Exhausted from a long day’s work
Never mind, for tomorrow is a chance to peep
In the blue haze of early morning

Another day, another chance
Of a wishful thinking of the seventh heaven
That a Godsend may soon fall to earth in drops
To break the silence of the morning

I need the rain to accompany me
And lull me into a deep therapeutic easiness
Unbosoming the thoughts of turning back time
Between playful stomping and dancing on water puddles

The cloud drifted on to reveal a blinding cloudburst
The first sign of a light drizzle gave hope
Therefore, I looked upward to the gossamer layers of clouds
As railing rains trickle down my face
I opened my parched lips and closed my eyes to kiss the rain


23 February 2013


Details | Pantoum | |

The Twisted Kudzu Vine

Remembering America when clothesline displayed wash
The yesteryear clotheslines of our country have mostly gone
Gone with the same way of old fashioned outdated panache
Panache as when women dressed decent_men tipped hats agone

The yesteryear  clotheslines of our country have mostly gone
Disappeared from view like Johnny Cash's song "I Walk The Line"
Panache as when women dressed decent_men tipped hats agone
Morals, good principles have been twisted like Kudzu Vine

Disappeared from view like Johnny Cash's song "I Walk The Line"
Gone with the same way of old fashioned outdated panache
Morals, good principles have been twisted like Kudzu Vine
Remembering America when clothesline displayed wash


Details | Limerick | |

courage

The music coarses through my veins
As i run down the street
i don't need to look back 
to hear the pounding of the feet

My mind races as i sprint
my lungs struggling to continue
but i hear death come closer
not knowing what to do

i see the glint of metal
as he races after me
not fighting for his honor
it is just blood he wants to see

is this how a hero dies, i ask myself boldly
is this what happens when you refuse to back down
my heart starts to fail, my feet start to slow
with barely enough energy, to turn myself around

All i ever did
was stand up to that school bully
and it may have been the last thing i do
i now understand quite fully

if only i had stepped down
let him spit and walk away
instead, i had to open my mouth
and so the consequences i must now pay

i muster up the courage
puff out my chest and turn 
but instead of feeling steel
i feel a steady burn

for in my frantic flight
i must have stepped down wrong
for after everything I'd done
i knew that it was sprung

i fall down to the pavement
fearing the very end
that school bully who chose to chase me
would soon learn to comprehend

that i stood up for myself
and would not back down now
i fought back the tears
and stood without a sound

i waited and waited and waited
for the bully to fly around the block
i sat back down and teared up,
as i yanked away the sock

the pain that radiated shot
through my leg and through my bones
anyone one could tell 
from the screeching of my tone

i hobbled to the bus stop
picking out the broken glass
the blood hit the ground
and the ground hit my ass

i sat there in my tears
pondering a lie to tell
one that told nothing of my flight
and one that i could sell

i came home late that night
with relief my mother slept
i hobbled to my bed
and passed out as i wept. 



Details | Carpe Diem | |

No Regrets

i want i need To break free I'm finally ready. to talk to tell but it's too late, isn't it?
I failed Look at the bright side. now I don't have to suffer the feelings of rejection so stubbornly shy so insecure. such low self-esteem i need to break free out of my shell but no use there its too late there's no hope for me look at me it all adds up to my self-esteem time to grow up be a big girl and let out of my shell and live life fully no regrets


Details | Elegy | |

THE INCARNATE

 On a day never unseen
 when our souls are called to rest
 And our bodies returned to dust
 From whence they came
 Whether burdened with age
 Or unable to cross life's next stage
 If in bed we Lia in wait
 Or by force others do take

 On a day not unforeseen
 When the key to our creation
 Unlocks the door to mans destruction
 And all hope in life, LOST...!
As men have always been half
 in love with death

 Cyclically life and death move
 For death brings us sorrow
 But a day would come we will all follow
 And when again life is gone
 In new bodies we shall be born

 In whom evil dominates
 A lower being regenerates
 In whom good prevails
 A pure soul avails


Details | Light Poetry | |

a time will come


 When a family member is dying
 The whole family is plunged into despair. 
 It is heartbreaking to see a once active relative
 In a hospital bed in pain lying there

 It is hard to imagine that this is the same individual 
 Who was previously so active and full of life?
 It may feel  strange and uncomfortable to spend time
 With a loved one knowing their time has arrived

 Most of us feel helpless in the hospital 
 Seeing them there fighting to survive
 There may be an opportunity to share a moment 
 That you treasure for the rest of your life

 And on the day the heavenly father calls
 For them to return home to him
 The faith and hope that shines so bright
 Has all of a suddenly becomes dim

 But we must always have trust in the almighty
 For he is the creator of everything
 And we know he has a plan for all of us
 Regardless to what religion you believe in

 We will reflect on the lives of the departed
 The legacy that they has left behind
 And we know that their soul is around us
 So we keep looking out for that sign

 We will make mistakes because no one is perfect 
 And we can never please everyone
 But we have to think of what memory leave
 When we are dead and gone

 That day will come to all of us
 Children, young and old
 No one knows the time god will say
 Its time to leave this world

 And our deeds will be the key 
 To open or close heaven’s door
 If we crave Possessions and wealth
 It will mean nothing to us anymore

 We can never rewind our lives
 So we have to be careful of the role we play
 And imprints we leave in people lives
 Is what they will remember on that day?

 My very good friend father just past away
 And I feel her sorrow and pain
 But I know she love her father dearly
 And in her heart he will always remain

 And he is walking thru the gates of heaven
 Free of all sorrow and pain
 Where one day his family 
 Will see and greet him again

 We wish we can keep love ones save
 Shield and protected in our hearts
 Knowing they will always be there
 No matter what weather is on the charts

 But it all is just wishful thinking
 A fantasy we all have in our mind
 And that day will come to everyone
 For no one can stop the time

 If any thing ever happens to the woman 
 I love with all my heart and soul
 Will hold her in my arms forever
 And together we will leave this world


Details | Clerihew | |

World's Greatest

Muhammad Ali
Floats like a butterfly and stings like a bee
Receiving end of his lumber
You'll know you've gone under







Tribute To
Cassius Clay
Also Entry For Brian Strands 
Sports Mad Contest


Details | Classicism | |

Memories

As I wander through my mind, back to years now long gone by.
I stumble over many memories, some now faded and worn by father time.
Others clear, even brilliant, bring a tear, or a smile to the corner of my eye.

At times I was cowboy Roy, as my pony raced the wind.
Some game of cowboy, or some pirate or maybe I was fighter pilot Dan.
There was bubble gum, old Junker bicycles, but I always wanted a Schwinn.

Long lonely walks along the lakeshore, a fishing pole at ready in my hand.
Flowers, frogs, tadpoles and maybe a story from grandpa, occupied my day.
Dirt so hot, it burnt our bare feet, hot summers that never seemed to end. 

There were always chores that called, but not always done just right.
And school, but also games, baseball, kick the can, now do come into my mind.
That first kiss, that spun my head around.and made my heart so light.

Chums and best friends, having now gone their separate ways. 
Stubbed toes, skinned shins, horses and how we played the game. 
Ah childhood, those were "the good old days".

My first car, a FORD of course and this was a model "A"
Parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles now resting in their graves,
Who taught those treasured values that guided and help me find my way.

Hard work, responsibility my young shoulders forced to bear.
There was sports and girls, challenges that I could never get quite right
The years of war with stars hung in windows, for boys who were serving there.

That redheaded girl that grabbed me by the heart and agreed to be my wife.
There were hard times, but good times, as we traveled through the years.
Four grown children, with children of their own, now living their own dreams of life

The time of my life is passing, like water that flows on its journey to the sea.
And though youth has escaped me now, these memories still burn just as brightly.
Somehow I know that my life’s journey, was the adventure that a child had dreamt about with glee.


Details | Sonnet | |

If by Chance we Meet

What if by chance we meet, embrace once more,
And to that place we go where no one sees
Or even knows, we quietly close the door
And shut away the winter’s cooling breeze.

The scent of hyacinths still fills the hall
And welcomes us with memories of where
We both said our goodbyes and we’ll recall
Unspoken words left hanging in the air

But if we meet, my heart will surely sing
For what we were and what we might have been
When to this empty room, my love, you’ll bring
Bouquets of flowers fresh and newly green

If in this chance encounter, you are true,
We may find love returns, from where it flew







Details | Free verse | |

i could use you

i could use your snort-like laugh on really odd days
even capture thoughts of myself when I’m imperfect. . . and not
i might venture to mimic my own energy for the love you give away
might even try to write a longer line. . . than the one above. . . nope. . . pretty much your 
smile
wild-mile-wide
keeps all things in a picture you never seem to be in
i could use your dust on those rose-color glasses that you take off the shelf
just to see rust disappear
souls and steel don’t mind much for that kind of erosion
you suck, in your choices sometimes. . . we all do
“even-steven”
i could perhaps borrow your tickled distraction of the world
for those times when weight exceeds my plea to. . . wait
the walkers and rushers here. . . do so with heads down
i could use you more around 
me
i could use 
you


Details | Free verse | |

Innocence Lost

Can innocence lost
Be ever returned
Or a heart, tainted and broken
Be cleansed, made whole once more?

Can a tree, longing for summer's warmth
Summon its leaves from cold autumn grounds
To return to naked branches
That it may feel joyful and alive again?

Can a child, disillusioned
Relive broken dream
Changing fate
To find naivety return?

Can joy be had in innocence lost
Or beauty be discovered, resting in sadness?
When birth of spring and warmth of summer pass by
Till all that remains is the still and quiet of winter
Will warmth be rekindled?


Details | Haiku | |

About a life

Womb, lost paradise
Strong wind, insecurity
Death


Details | Haiku | |

Autumn Blows A Kiss

Autumn blows a kiss
 mists dance amongst painted leaves
 Winter soon arrives
 

(c) Copyright by Christine A Kysely
(November 9, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin USA)


Details | Sonnet | |

One Seed

I planted a seed and it grew and grew.
It grew so high touching a cloudy sky.
With one main branch it sprouted high.
I cut it down telling myself I’m through.
 
But that main branch stayed so true.
I started watering daily at noon nigh.
And I would always wave good bye.
I can’t even tell you the birds it drew.
 
That branch was awesome.
Every day a new leaf to see.
Always a flowering blossom.
New blooms would always be.
 
It is amazing at what one seed can do.
Even those seeds lying inside of you.
 
 
© Copyright: Ann Rich   2006


Details | Rhyme | |

My dream wedding day

Looking at the first blush of the morning,
I know its the perfect day for a wedding.
The big fat white wedding, the dream,
To which every little girl clings.
 
I tell myself as I watch the clouds turn white,
That this is the happiest day of a woman's life,
And that nothing should come in between,
The perfect bride and her groom.
 
I remember those young moments when I used to dream,
Of how our wedding would seem.
It was just like I had imagined,
A pretty day like today.
 
Slipping into my white dress and stilettos,
I think of the way you had proposed.
The way I had always wished for,
A dazzling ring in sparkling champagne.
 
I switch to happier thoughts from our past,
Holding hands, watching stars, laying on the grass.
We were high school sweethearts,
The perfect couple was what they called us.
 
We spent our days sneaking in a few kisses,
We used to pretend to be Mister and Mistress.
We were in love,
The crazy, eternal and rare kind.
 
Memories are shoved as mother comes into the room,
Holding a few red roses in full bloom.
Her eyes are teary and her voice is shaky,
As she whispers that she is proud of me.
 
Tears spill but I smile as I slide into the car,
Remembering the times you'd sing to me with your guitar.
The times you'd reach over and,
Tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear.
 
I laugh silently as I remember on the way to the chapel,
You saying once you were the beast and I, the belle.
You  always bring little candles and gifts,
And laugh as I make my birthday wish.
 
I wonder if you'd be laughing today,
As you cut the wedding cake with the sugar bouquet.
If you'd remember our old ceremonies,
In the event of your new one.
 
I walk through the gates smiling at our old friends,
And take your brother's hand as his arm extends.
He takes me in but lets me go,
As we reach the door to the flowery hall.
 
I peek through the crack to see you there,
At the altar smiling, running a hand through your hair.
I slip in and move to the side,
As the wedding march starts to play.
 
In came the blushing bride, walking gracefully down the aisle,
At her friends and family, she nods and smiles.
As I hold my breath and wipe my eyes,
Our high school love story plays in my head. 
 
I remember the day we promised we'd never part,
Because I would always be the one in your heart.
But your bride and you exchange your vows,
And I find myself repeating them inside.
 
The priest asks you to kiss your bride,
And I quickly slip outside.
Because no matter how alright I say I am,
Letting you go was the hardest thing I had ever done.
 
 
- Miliya Parveen


Details | Limerick | |

My First Love

Got my first car when I was sixteen The coolest blue car I had ever seen A hot rod fuel injected My foot to floor connected I’m surprised I lived to seventeen I loved my Datsun 280 z A birthday gift from my parents to me Drove it for eight long years When I sold it, I cried tears To this day, I still miss my baby *My first car was a 1976 Datsun 280z By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders for the My First Car Contest (Carol Brown) second place


Details | Free verse | |

Horizon

Lost and unforgiven
and yet…
not forgotten.

String me along 
to the upcoming of dawn
a place of pleasure
and words still unsung.

Dry up the river…
There is no longer reason 
for you to cry.

Crave me…
as I’ve craved you 
in the mist of the dawn
on this broken road

Where nothing is wrong
Where nothing is gone

Walk with me
in to the dawn
of the yesterdays…
that are now
and forever will be
Today’s.


Details | Free verse | |

Culture

Saturated streets of crumbled ancient inheritance, 
Forgotten history condemned by our corroded eye,
Dresses that no longer dance, words that float without significance, 
Colors that no longer have a meaning, Culture? What Culture? You can not cherish what 
does not exist. And you can miss something you never had.


Details | I do not know? | |

i carry you

CHAPTER 1
Broken glass, shattered dreams, aching hearts- bleeding the memories of yesterday
Fading hope, faded conviction; where do I go to bury you and put the dream of us 
away?
To preserve it forever I’ll put it to rest in c chamber of my soul, I will carry you in my 
heart
This way, my love, you’re forever mine, breathing you even though we are worlds 
apart


CHAPTER 2
Our song, romancing the moon and the summer breeze
The words I’ll be seeing you put my mind at ease
Oh God! Yet, I have burned it all, the bridges crossing to you my dear
I have tainted our love and demolished your heart of gold I fear
Ironically, it all came crashing down on your day of love Sir Valentine
Picture of destruction, sex, drugs and fake friendships intertwine
I will never insult you by trying to say I’m sorry, for it won’t do
There’s nothing I can even dream of that will ever make it up to you
That’s is why I’ll rather suffocate in my pain, take the punishment and protect you 
from me
You think you want this, but I destroy everything I touch, trust me part of my life 
you don’t want to be

HELL
My deepest desire is to go back and find you, but I don’t know where I let go
I don’t know what possessed me, how did you later become my foe
I’ve lost my mind more that I’ve realized, condemning us to hell
Sickening memories, pathetic choices and a heartbreaking story to tell
Pieces if of me, all I have left is my blackened heart and tears
If I forgive myself, will you leave my dreams – these are my fears
I year ago, to the night, I was almost conquered by the bear
The nightmare didn’t end there, I still carry you – life isn’t fair

AUTUMN
The days are turning colder, the warmth of the sun is fading away
An ironic metaphor of how we use to be, oh God how I wish it’ll be okay
I miss you, but I will always be looking for something more
More ambition, confidence, initiative – always being something that I’m punishing 
you for
God knows I want to be with you, but I will destroy
You loyal, passionate and unconditional love give boy


Details | Rhyme | |

Violin Tears

Weaving its magical way into my very being
Comes a sweetness found only in its listening
Deep within my feeble mortal frame’s keeping 
I do love listening to a mournful violin weeping
A strange melancholy is woven by bow and string
Its soft melody enables my fragile heart to sing 
Seduced by sadness, I hear those sweet notes play 
Yet the hearing of the tune brightens my every day
A beautiful haunting sound of tragedy and tears
Caressing my emotions, while soothing all my fears
Gentle tears fall on my face as I recall any past regret
I smile to myself as I have learnt not to worry or fret
What is done is now gone, it is consigned to history 
What is to come is the making of a precious memory

Patrick Brennan © 2010


Details | Lyric | |

Smeared Mirror

Looking dead at me 
in this smeared mirror...
a lost man tormented; 
face red, brittle and teared

less excuses 
longer I stare
stress abuses 
my conscience with a glare

a guilty reflection alerts me,
"this prison is my fear"
longing for an escape 
and answers to why I’m still here

who have I become? 
what have I done right?
crossroads appear suddenly 
as fog fills the mirror tonight

darkness owning the room,
prefers I suffer slow
so I proceed with speed 
because it’s the only way I know

tasteless stories
flood my life’s hard bound chapters 
while this smeared mirror reflects tears
dripping from a face 
which was once filled with laughter. 


Details | Rhyme | |

Everytime I See Him...

Everytime I see him, my heart aches and breaks.
Everytime I see him, my knees and hands shake.
Living with the pain,
I am in vain.
Thinking that I'm hated,
It's not appreciated.

Everytime I see him,my world turns.
Everytime I see him,my stomach churns.
Everytime I see him,the world goes around and around.
Everytime I see him,it's like my heart's falling to the ground.

Just hearing his voice, all rough yet smooth,
Just waiting for that one perfect move.
At the same time, his scent is sweet & bitter.
It makes my body feel as if it's gonna shiver.

Everytime I see him, a flood of memories come into my head.
Everytime I see him, it's like the burning in my heart is being fed.
This pain hurts so much that it's so unbearable.
To me, this situation is not understandable.
Can't he understand that I love him so?
Well, I guess not...


Details | Rhyme | |

The Mirror

Sunshine shoots through the windows and fills the house with grace,
Ricochets around the room and finds my weathered face.

Standing at a mirror I see refracted light
On wrinkles, lines and eyes of mine reflected to my sight.

The youth that once looked back at me
Has gone – I know not where – in vain I search the glass, and find: No … it isn’t there.

Instead I see the wrinkles – they are stress of many years
Produced in times of doubt and my unfounded fears.

My eyes see lines and furrows as they track across my face
Hard times are buried there as my eyes complete the trace.

At the corners of my eyes I see: a pair of old “crows feet”
They’re etched there forever from those times my life was sweet.

A lifetime full of memories comes bouncing off the glass
A memory consumes me - as I feel still more time pass.

In the Winter of a lifetime, my memories come to play
Oh, thank God I have them – pray they never go away.

I turn from my glass mirror – that used to be my friend
As thoughts of those reflections I try to comprehend.

My face - it is my diary of experience I’ve had
And then I tell myself: “You know … those lines …
      they really aren’t so bad.”


Details | Light Poetry | |

My Love, -name-

Your skin glows like warm, silky milk chocolate,
   blossoms better than a rose in the purest hope of spring.
My yearning heart rises to your comforting voice
   and leaps like a kitten at the whisper of your name, -name-.

The evening ascends in on a great Blue Jay wing.
I am calmed by your presence that I carry into 
    the twilight of moonbeams and us holding each other hand-in-hand.

I am filled with hope that I may dry your tears of
    sadness, happiness, and joy that are mixed together. 
As my mind wanders to my bank of memories, I remember
    the times you were wild with passion.

In the hushed, I listen for the last chirp of the spring.
My heated heart leaps to my chest.

I wait in the crystal moonlight for you to show me your
    secret place you say has beauty beyond imagination, 
        so that we may jump as one, heart to heart, in search of the
            glorious times and the spiritual tree of love.



*Dedicated to the one with whom I fell inlove with...may you be blessed each day


Details | Villanelle | |

In wonder's winters' wistful wrings

In wonder's winters' wistful wrings 

 
In wonder's winters' wistful wrings,
Windmills wait for their windstorm's day;
Worldly wreath and wrath of kings 
Writhe in wrong and wrought old rings,
While stars of happy green, in woe they pray.

In wonder's winters' wistful wrings, 
My love is rowing, and angels white it brings.
A whiff white of dreams and air beings,
While whirlwind whets the winter's whip gray. 
But who is there, where my heart sings? 
The seasons gathered to meet The Milky Way…
 
In wonder's winters' wistful wrings, 
Whispers of love enlighten the things:
Sweet serenity of green in the light's way; 
From Father Chrisman, the blessed rainbow sings  
The same new written poem with white wings…
All we became a tree in no time's amber, I pray.

In wonder's winters' wistful wrings,
With our seasons, with happy angels we play.


Details | Rhyme | |

UNANSWERED PRAYERS

Beneath these eyes yet above my lips,
Along the waves of saline perceptions,
I sit and welcome this disguised gift
That adores the curse of untimely deceptions;
There’s a corpse in me that awaits its turn,
For why should my soul be left alone?
And where a quiet world is still my concern,
I assume tonight will gratify my stone—
I’ve asked only once before I’ve spoken,
Lead a confused crowd of words through me—
But where a heart consists of empty tokens,
My letters to the Lord within subdued poetry
Didn’t travel my teary hopes—
Where last breaths are a memoir I must steal,
Poetry becomes the song for a saddened tale,
But if my unconsciousness is the one to heal,
I’m better off living this life in lyrical jails—
Better stay away from this insane mind of mine,
For my howling spirit follows unleashed paths,
Those that regret the taste of bitterness in wine,
While I sit within foggy memories, letting words relax—
Where a son asked for another day in her life,
The Lord and the world just accrued his tears,
Building molested heaps before soggy eyes,
While the cane of self destruction strengthened my fear;
Breathing through the nose is a corpse still alive,
Though I can see her heart awaiting a farewell,
Where medicines are just a formality on which to survive,
Though I know of the painful truth in this spell;
And today I look at previous albums yet can’t tell,
If this is a nightmare or the bitter reality I’ve seen,
For a heart won’t accept those voices that have yelled,
Though numb eyes were present at this morbid scene—
Insanity is now the prime companionship I seek,
For there’s a life less a motive to live in this weather,
And where I’m forced to kindle a truth so weak,
I sit with poetry before my speech,
For the Lord hears me only beyond unanswered prayers 
 


Details | Rhyme | |

Penchant of a Pensive Poetess

Relieve me of this cruel
Subterranean passion
Or douse dispiriting reason
Cast out the angst
Heart distressed
Regain your soothing rhythm

Return to me
Resilience
Revoke this grim oppression
Please recall
Lost resolve
Compel its requisition

Don’t consign me to
Nor evoke malign surrender
Be wise, heart of mine
For luring wind songs
Are the primary cause
Of many a heart’s demise

Camille Rose Castillo 2012



Details | Dramatic monologue | |

NO MORE TEARS

The world is a perplexing place
So much beauty and so much evil all tied into one
I started having fun when I was way too young 
I’ve walked down both sides of the tracks
The adrenaline rush was like smoking crack  
Being naive and carefree I thought I was living the ideal life
By the time I was fifteen I had experienced it all
Sometimes I managed to pull myself up
However temptation was too great, despite knowing the toll
I felt like I had lost my soul
I didn’t realize I was just being used and abused
I used to think I was being cool, but now I realize I was surrounded by a bunch of dumb
ass fools
People I thought were my friends all did me wrong in the end
I put my trust into the wrong hands and then one day reality struck
I found myself stuck
I learned the hard way
I literally found myself fighting for my life and ended up being taught the strength
The strength I had within myself all of these days
I refuse to live in fear
That’s when I decided to change my ways
I was forced to grow up way to young
My life had been like one disastrous play
I took back control in every plausible way
I could no longer kick and scream
For I was done living in this catastrophic dream
It was my fight to fight and it was all up to me
There are no magic pills, no quick fixes
Only I could choose to remain a victim
I get upset if anyone takes pity, even though a few years were extremely gritty
I found my inner strength on my own, even when the stress makes me feel like I am about to
drown
Like a erasing the scarlet letter I shall no longer where that frown
I chose to let myself be free
Knowing I am the only one who holds the key
The key to unlock and release myself from the pain
Now everyday is like a surprise
I see the world through a fresh pair of eyes
I take advantage of that as much as I can
I try to look for the beauty and pureness everywhere I turn
I would not let myself be tainted from the past
Life passes by so fast
Forget the scary things I have done, for in a moment you can be gone
Take that leap of faith and wear a smile upon your face


Details | Free verse | |

Santa Monica, CA

Children of the iron curtain 

Stripped of God from birth, 

Crawling on a toothless wall - 

Question marks on compass. 

Chicks growing colored wings, 

Door unlocked - unable to believe 

Sunrise doesn't come with bars 

For those who can still fly... 

No man's land - unable to catch roots, 

Holograph of gardens back home 

Tended by parents with disrupted movements, 

Tears muffled on the California coast... 

Children of the iron curtain... 

Each sunset gathers them on beaches 

Champion chess players of their fate 

Stop and salute me as I drive along 

alone...



 check the definition of "The Iron Curtain"


Details | Free verse | |

Little Red

Full Moon Brimming 
On A Hungry Wolf
Fire still burning 
Words are not enough

Red Riding Hood,
You stopped me where i stood.
The basket you held, looked so good,
I enticed...And you fell... 

In the woods... safe and sound
We could not believe what we had found
Me in denim... and you it lace

We understood, each other so very well
Full moon brimming over with light
Gazing into the eyes of the other

The twin to me, I did see, in You.
Be careful with my heart, my love.

My running shoes are unlaced for now,
So lean back and enjoy the ride.
Embrace all the laughter, our lives allow.

rlm


Details | Quintain (English) | |

Our Song Unsung

"There is something coming over me"
Love in everything_its amazing
Must be spring has pronounced decree
Great romance aflame blazing 
All the birds, crickets in song praising
Memories surfing corners of my mind
The spring of my life when we were young
The young love that we have left behind
Young love amazing, all reason to wind flung
Oh! For that spring again, our song unsung

Contest: English Quintain A Spring Day
Sponsor: Francine Roberts
February 02, 2012


Details | Lyric | |

The Escapist's Plea

When you can longer run away from yourself
When you thought there were no more tears to cry
When you just want to die
Living like this consumed by the façade of a million lies
So many years, so many days
Waking up to people who no longer care you're there
You ask how can this be, one short organic vitality
Wasted with living; the slowest way to die

The shadows of shame weigh you down 
Until you drown, filled with only their hate
All you can turns grey, and all you ever loved fades
The agony is all you know, thank you pain
A self-sadist Is all you have become, j
ust how they showed you, craving so much more
Just to hide up all of the misery
But under cloth it still bleeds

This is the Escapist's Plea
For the one who fall to their knees in misery
Trying to stay sane but fall under September's rain
Dying from the invisible disease, only you can see
Stigmatized by their sadistic need
Only if I could just fly away
...Fly Away


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Encompassed in Memory

Cool mountain streams reflect the cobalt blues and greys of sky 		   
Restful twilight with stars scattered as if on a canvas 		   
Fire cloaks the curve of the earth and golden fish swim nearby 		   
Weeping willows in the field sway to an urgent sadness 		   
The gushing wind that stirs etches the land, channels through boundless time 		   
The carved thrust of a mountain range, maybe the Andes 		   
Will challenge the forever yielding sky, vast as the horizon 		   
Where rain batters the window and mists as far as we can see 		   
It is a warm evening in a pub in Ireland 		   
As the songs hover around us, I know this is what it is like to be free


Details | Light Poetry | |

' The Wolf's Howl ... '

Have You Ever Heard
A Lone Wolf’s Howl
… Sends Chills, Up My Spine
In Memory, (Even Now)

… Not Out Of Fear …
That’s Not What I Hear
It’s A Longing
A Calling

A Soul-Star Rising
And Vocalizing
A Notice … A Need
A Heed of The Breed

He’s Lifting His Head
Out Of The Dark
Not Like A Bark
But, Rite of Passage-Mark

Thru the Air, ‘Hahooooo’ Zooms
In Moonlight, and in Tune
A Long, Mellow Note
The Wolf Sung-Spoke

Wolf, is Howling To Say …
Same Things, We Pray …

Have You Ever Heard 
A Lone Wolf Howl
Sends Chills, Up My Spine 
(Even Now) ! …


Details | Rhyme | |

Remember

Remember the halcyon days gone by,
When we were kids, you and I.
Long hot summers and days in the park,
Playing on swings until it got dark.

Remember the bands that played on the stand,
The ice cream man, oh; wasn't life grand.
Get a cone or a wafer, a bubble gum chew,
An orange lolly, drink ginger beer too.

Walk down the lanes, no fear of attack,
Mum didn't worry about when you got back.
You'd come in the back all covered in grime,
Get washed quick, for it is teatime.

life was unhurried, except to us kids,
Each moment was racing, like we were on skids.
Hopscotch was played by both girls and boys,
Carved bits of wood to us were our toys.

Games we played then were varied and many,
Never cost money, we didn't have any.
Played tag after tea, round the streets we would run,
It cost not a penny but we had plenty of fun.

My grandsons laugh and think I am 'funny',
They don't know fun unless it's with money.
They play on their games alone in their room,
Don't turn on the light, they live in the gloom.

They 'play' with their friends miles away,
I don't understand the internet way.
It's OK for mail and for information,
But what good is a life if it's in isolation.

Get out in the sun, the rain or the snow,
Get outside and play with friends that you know.
Feel the sun on your face, the wind in your hair,
Live each day to the full without any care.

Oh for the halcyon days of my youth,
I do miss them so,
And that's the plain truth!

© Dave Timperley 2012



Details | Bio | |

City One

her artful glare, 
snare drum 
entwined, 
fell sideways upon 
the low lit veneer, 
inertia and woe 
sunk deeper unto 
the vacuous valets 
of halcyon days, 
entrapped 
by the pavement…


Details | Senryu | |

Empty Shoes

I see empty shoes

stories waiting to be heard

lonely hearts and minds



(April 6, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin USA)

(c) Copyright 2011 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

'HEALING'

The beauty I see in things 
makes me so sad....
For when I find something beautiful,
It may never be quite that way again.

A summer day
an autumn breeze
a color in a sunset....
your warm hand held in mine.

Why do i still hear your name....
in my head....
Faint,
tired....
so tired.....
almost dead.

My soul still whispers to God for you 
without me even thinking....
So thoughtless,
hopeless,
longing,
sadly dreaming. 

Unbearable.......
That sweet old dream of being in your arms 
my frame stood secure in yours
You were thin and warm and sturdy.....
soft coat of yours so cozy.................
Your face emanating ‘happy’....

Too soon, you began to fade away......
In tears I closed my eyes 
and held on tight.....
Oh, I couldn’t bear to watch you disappear again
But I felt it, all right.....

Your memory....
I’ll stuff in the dark of my mind 
in an ebony box
And keep it so tightly shut....
Tied with a long, dripping ribbon of blood

And thus my healing has begun.....
But I’ll still be on the run.........

No love deserves to live so long...
then die alone, so painfully.
Never again will this soul feel so trapped---
so helpless----
and so...........free......................


sorrylittlesharky.com


Details | Verse | |

Le Vacance Pretentieuse: Baggage Claim

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

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

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


Details | Rhyme | |

Never Trust the One You Lust

Another middle-schooler poem I made! ^.^
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Never trust the one you lust
For I have done so
I saw the figure in the rain
As dark as the crow
For death himself had stood there
With all his cunning glee,
But then I look inside the reflection 
Only seeing me!
I die a thousand times 
Yet the clock still chimes 
Am I ever to flee?
Heh—now I clearly see the end:
Sanities’ my only friend


Details | Quatrain | |

May Day Basket


A tisket, tasket, a pretty May basket Made to hang on a very special door Filled with flowers from the field For a neighbor that we all adore A tradition when I was just a girl Fun way to bring a bit of cheer The glories of the 1st of May A childhood memory so dear...
Barbara Gorelick 4/21/12


Details | I do not know? | |

MEMORY LANE

"DoWn ThE MeMOrY LAne.......tHEre's "DuSTy KnEEs"...."BrUIsed ELboWS"....& "SwEat".
DoWn THE MeMORY LaNE.......There's "HAPPinESS".
UNAWARE OF THE WORLDLY WAYS .....WHEN THE SOUL WAS SO PURE.
DOWN THE MEMORY LANE WHERE HATE CEASES TO EXIST ONLY LOVE PREVAILED.
DAD WAS THE KING MOM WAS THE QUEEN....UNDER THEIR KINGDOM
I HELD MYSELF AS A LITLE PRINCE.
WHEN THE WORLD BEYOND THE FENCE OF MY HOUSE WAS HARD TO IMAGIINE...
 BIRDS WERE MY BEST FRIENDS AND TOGETHER WE USED TO SING.....
WHEN IN NIGHT COUNTING STARS WAS ONLY HOBBY...
BORED
 WITH IT I USED TO RUN,HOPP AND JUMP THROUGHOUT THE LOBBY.
WHEN LUXURIOUS COUCH WERE NOT THE PLACE FOR ME TO SLEEP..
MY MOTHER'S LAP WAS THE BEST I NEED.
WHEN SITTING ON MY FATHER'S SHOULDER WAS HIGHEST I COULD REACH.
WHEN ALL THE MOUNTAINS FALL SHORT BENEATH.
WHEN MONEY HOLDS NO VALUE....DREAMS WERE EVERYTHING.
WHEN FIGHTING OVER AN EXTRA SCOOP OF ICECREAM OR A PIECE OF CHOCLATE WAS BIGGEST CHAOS I HAVE SEEN.
GOSH THESE MEMORIES FADED AWAY WITH TIME..
MY WORLD HAS CHANGED COMPLETELEY IN JUST FEW YEAR'S TIME.
I STILL MISS THOSE DAYS.....I MISS BEING PRINCE OF MY FATHER'S LITTLE KINGDOM.
DOWN WITH MY DUSTY KNEES,BRUISED ELBOWS  & SWEAT IN THIS WORLDLY RUSH.
DARING TO WIN AN IDENTITY OVER MILLION'S IN THIS GHOSTLY HUSH.

"DoWn ThE MeMOrY LAne.......tHEre's "DuSTy KnEEs"...."BrUIsed ELboWS"....& "SwEat".
DoWn THE MeMORY LaNE.......There's "HAPPinESS".






Details | Free verse | |

When

When is he going to understand 
that life is harder than what our eyes can see.
Its work, its pain, its suffering,
Its love, its time, its energy.
When..

When will he know the struggles life brings
When..

When will he feel the love that I feel
the pain that I feel
the anger I feel
When..

When will he learn the responsibility of life.
Its not always easy to provide.
There are times when its much easier to give up.
When..

When will he have children all his own
and learn to take care of them just as I did.
When will he hold me and say
I love you, thank you for all that you've done.
When..

When will he know that it was all done for love.

When my heart beats no more and my body lies still
Will you still love me?
Will you still see me?
Will you wonder why
When you were little why I held your hand so you wouldn't cry.
Why I would kiss you and then smile.

Life is too short to ponder what, when, where and why.
So I leave you this message
So when you are older and wiser
You'll read whats in it
and maybe then you'll understand
just why I did it.


Details | Rhyme | |

Life

I was the sunshine that cradled your day 
that tried to push the clouds away 
I was the sand that ran between your toes 
when you were four years old 
that soon became the rain you danced in 
from seven to eleven 
And I watched you grow in the glow 
of a moon that beamed 
when you turned thirteen 
How unfair you thought I'd become 
when you turned twenty-one 
because you lost a few dreams 
But I stayed awake when you were out late 
I was the stars 'till you turned twenty-eight 
And when you found your love 
"the one" 
I was glimmer in the eye, the blue sky, the sun 
Then you turned thirty-one 
I became cloud, thunder and shower 
there weren't enough minutes to put in your hour 
You forgot how to dance in the rain 
'till you turned forty all you did was complain 
Then you took off your shoes 
and went back to the sand 
I was now the warmth of your child's hand 
At forty-three 
you spent more time with me 
You began 
to understand 
And when you stood fifty years old 
you stayed warm to me even though 
at times I was cold 
How close we grew 
when you turned sixty-two 
The breeze was I 
that hung your grandchild's kite in the sky 
And I'm sorry I made you sad 
when I took "the one" away 
But I was proud 
when you pushed aside that cloud 
and cradled 'me' in the sun 
for the remainder of our day


Details | Free verse | |

Tongue

Words trembling

At the sticky tilt
Wanting to leap off.


Will you

Help me

Tease

It out

To roll the R's -- To swirl the tongue
To purse the lips -- To spill the beans

No truth potion, no torture
Could make me confess
The sound of night's indigo voice
And what it whispered.


In your soul mirror
I saw

All that you possessed--
The songs of a thousand kingfishers
Shimmering intangible colours
And my lute that you took away
Pledging infinity in return.


I see its point
When it holds back

Pink eyeless screaming worm
Blindly trashing
Rolling back
Imprisoning itself

A muggy cave of beginnings. Here, I
Stick out my neck, unstick those words.

Put your tongue
Where it belongs

You know where--


Deeper.

Probe for me

Among the distilled
molecules of my

Fragmented self.


Stifle my cries
O prying mouth. Seek
The lyrical secret.

Crush my words
Winged monsters

I want to speak
With my wounds.


Details | Sonnet | |

Matted Layers

I came from behind and my God at what I saw.
I was astonished and in disbelief seen by you.
I counted exact minutes with the seconds too.
But I stood there intact with no lines to draw.
 
There are many versions of Grace Verse’s law.
So I read through them one by one until blue.
So I picked up the torch it was all I could do.
I was a flame burning stoked in complete awe.
 
I gave glory to the Sun and Moon,
I exalted a few Stars along my way.
I even rode in on a cloud at noon,
It was a bright beautiful blessed day.
 
But there were matted layers of deception,
I guess you can only imagine my reception.
 
 
© Copyright: Ann Rich   2006


Details | Free verse | |

Everythings changing

you once made me happy
now you only make me cry
You usta listen
now you only scream
why are you doing this to me
We once were a dream
now were a nightmare
why cant I wake up
you use to look at me like I mattered
now you just look the other way
you usta make me feel beautiful
now you make me feel undesirable
why do I feel so ugly
you once turned me on 
but nows the attractions fading
I usta love the sex
but now I cant wait for it to be over
what happened to us
I once thought you loved me
but now im not so sure
why did you make me so insecure
I use to feel safe with you
now im scared to death
why did you lie, you said you'd never hurt me
I once thought you were good for me
but now I know thats not true
why did you change,
what happened to make your personality rearrange
when you would hug me I use to melt
but now it just feels hollow
when you would kiss me I use to feel it
But now I dont feel a thing
why is this happening
Everythings changing and were falling out of love
and I feel is pain and regret
do you feel anything
I wish I never got attached
cause then Ide just be numb
and I wish underneith, 
that I didnt still feel that your the one
everythings changing,
and damage has been done


Details | Haiku | |

Life-Haiku

Twists and turns are life
Happy or sad, you decide
It shall stay that way


Details | Free verse | |

Nocturnal farewells of ships(for the Black sea)

I left like the last tourist in late September
and threw a back-pack of memories over
my shoulders cherished in a fist size jewelry box
given to me by a dear friend.
But left my heart buried under
a lonely beach umbrella abandoned
by other tourists like me who left only
a trace of ashes from a pack of cigarets.
An image of you got caught in my eye like
a grain of sand caught in an oyster.
That's how a pearl is born.
An image of ships searching for suitable sands to anchor.
And your late afternoon waves like
white empty hammocks missed their siesta fading
into the horizon like drifters without a map.
With a blink of an eye I tried to crush you
but you formed harder and harder under
my eyelids.
Embedded in my mind mother of pearl.
Then Winter melted from Spring's worm touch
and turned into cherry blossoms
plucked by winds.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Sacred Path's

Follow me to the metaphysical plains where spirits graze, 
we'll get lost in the darkest parts of the forest for days, 
following any direction that nature sways, 
ocular perceptions in a Kaleidoscopic maze, 
ascending infinitely in a spiritual phase, 
psychedelically extracting thoughts the mind never portrays, 
nostalgia quickly decays, 
there was never a place for us among society anyways.


Details | Sonnet | |

Four Winds of Heaven

My wind to the East you are my least.
My wind to the West you are the test.
Each and every day you are your best.
Each and every day you battle a beast.
 
My wind to the South you are a feast.
My wind to the North you are a crest.
Each and every day you never do rest.
Each and every day a new life leased.
 
The Sun makes your air.
The Moon is your guide.
Stars are always up there.
All of you are my pride.
 
Each of you I will easily leaven.
You are my four winds of heaven.
 
 
© Copyright: Ann Rich   2006


Details | Narrative | |

' Knock - Knock Jokes ... ( Quirky, Yes )

Aahhhh, The Quirky/Idiosyncrasies of MoonBee


Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
     Icky …
Icky Who ?
… Never Mind, I’ll Come Back Later …


Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
    Juan …
Juan Who ?
I Don’t Know, What Do You Have In Mind ?


Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
    Hula …
Hula Who ?
Yes, When I Was Young …


Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
   Toodle …
Toodle Who ?
  … Ok


Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
   Bye-Bye …
Bye-Bye Who ?
Look Lucy, We Found Ricky !


Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
      Nu …
Nu Who ?
Well, If You Know Who, Why You Ask ?


Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
     Woo …
Woo Who ?
… Ok, Who’s In Trouble ?


(The Obvious-Obvious, One)

Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
     Who …
Who Who ?
Late Night, Huh ?


Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
    Yu …
Not Me !
Yeah … Yu !


Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
    Yu ! …
You Who ?!
… Hi …


Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
     Yu !
Naaaaa, Naaaaa Interested !


Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
    Boo …
Boo Who ?
Wait, I’m Not A Bill Collector !


                               Knock, Knock …
                      Who… who oo ‘s  There ?
                                  Sue …
                           Su suu sue, Who ?
            (but then Door Opens, With A Crash
               Double-Barrel, Points Out, Blasts
     The Knocker Runs Fast, as Voice Shouts Out Rash
“ … Sue That ! and Don’t Come Back Talking ‘bout Whiplash”
          And The Man Sits Back Down, To Finish His Glass

                                 - - - - - - - - - - - -

              Oh, Darn, I’m Out Of Egg-Nog and Jack D
               Now, How Can I Make My Moonlight-Tea
             Well, It’s Back To The Market, For MoonBee
                                       He He He ! …

                            Have A Great Day, Y’all …

                                         MoonBee


Details | Blank verse | |

Days Of My Childhood

Days of my childhood
Always wonderfully good.

Days of imagination
Filled with aspiration.

Days of my dreaming
Of world travelling.

Days of  reading,
More of me I was becoming.

Days of my writings
Expression of thoughts and feelings.

Days of envisioning
Of future workings.

Days of my childhood,
Done everything I could.

Days of wishing
To freely be living.

Days of my youth
Found my inner truth.


Details | Free verse | |

Bonny Isles

A sparkling jewel
Of nature
It brings peace
To my soul
Fills the 
Empty hole
Slows down
My heartbeat
Stops the retreat
And rebuilds
Refills
My heart
With wonder
With hope
With silence.
Pained
As I am
By my past
The re-casting
Of my being
The removal
Of my all-seeing
Alter-ego
Is a certainty
When on the boat
To Lerwick
With waves
Licking
The sides
And the rhythm
Of the slow
Humming
Engine
Slowing my rhythm
Sending
Me to sleep.
Gets me
Dreaming of
The glistening sea
This wondrous
Place
This hidden
Space
Where few
Do tread
And the calm
Descends
From
The first step
From the lack
Of Chain Stores
The Out-of-date
News
The stormy weather
Views
The Cream Buns
The Long lasting
Sun
A slow
Drifting
Pace
The hundred
Private beaches
The performing stars
At night
A delight
To my heart

I dream of another place


Details | Couplet | |

London Time

A step in time I took one day
On specters mist who led the way
Down cobblestones and garden paths
Armless statues guarding baths
Armored beasts reflect the sun
Gallant knights are all for one
Hedge puzzles line the gardens fair
Hide and Seek for those that dare
Ladies clad in whale bone stays
Surreys pulled by chestnut bays
Sticky buns and honeyed mead
Cards and races slate the greed
Then on he led to shanty town
Down rows of tenements falling down
Sewage stench accosts the street
Where doxies in the alleys meet
Walking peddlers hawk their wares
And homeless children, no one cares
Disease spreads rampant through the town
Renaissance Art, the churches frown 
Then through the mist he leads again
Back to my time; my heart to pen.


Details | Rhyme | |

Two Doppelgangers

Doppelganger Part I 

Doppelganger?
Yes, I know of two.
The first one was a stranger.
Someone I never knew.
She often acquainted bars.
My friends often saw “Me” there.
I could swear upon the stars.
It wasn't me; they’d just stare.
This went on for quite awhile.
I was about twenty-five, then.
I’d deny it; they’d just smile.
Disbelief met my chagrin.
Then, one day I saw her.
There, in the traffic ahead.
Long straight hair and a car like mine.
My foot hit the gas like lead.
I stopped at the light.
(I didn’t want a fine.)
She sped off into the distance.
Lost doppelganger instance.


Doppelganger Part II 

I was about fifty-two.
My husband said, “Here's a picture of you.”
In a small town newspaper from another state! 
It wasn't me; I wasn't there; I swear.
Was this an eerie act of fate?
All I could do was look and gawk.
She looked like me, at any rate.
Yes, she had a different name.
I eyed the photo like a hawk.
Would my life ever be the same?
I always wished I had a twin.
Is she my twin; will I cope?
Listed in the phone-book was her name.
A conversation was my hope.
We talked; she was only fifty.
It turned out to be a small world in the end.
My sister-in-law's daughter's best friend,
Was my living doppelganger!
Mystery solved…twice!

I wonder.
Do I have more doppelgangers?
Somewhere.

© July 13, 2011
Dane Smith-Johnsen

Based on true events in my life.

Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest:  Doppelgangers!!! 	
Sponsored by: Matt Caliri


Details | I do not know? | |

Made in Sheffield

Made in Sheffield by Steven Cooke

Its Early Morning, a mist descends into the valley.
Not a Mist, from some love poem, but a fog forged in graft.
No sun shines here, for there is no welcome.
For here lies the Crucible of the World,
No bird song, only furnace dust,
And a dead river.
For this is Sheffield Steel.

The grime covered buses arrive for Morning shift,
Windows grey with smoke,
For breakfast, Woodbines and Senior Service,
A dripping crust and a flask of tea or two.

One by one, they descend,
 A goliath of manhood,
Raw Power, Natures finest creation
An elephant gun would not bring these men down.
 
A pot of tea, another fag, then into the mill
Into the Heat, Dante’s Inferno,
Armed only with Leather Aprons and tongs,

First job, a tank Barrel,
They work as a team, 
A sacred bond, forged in years of graft
Pure Strength twisting, the writhing white hot ingot,
In a rhythm, nay a dance, with a twenty ton hammer.
The Grace of Men in harmony with Machine, 
A right of Passage, their inheritance.

But this is also a dance with the devil,
One crack and shards of death rain upon them,
No escape, Just a Bed in Tinsley Cemetery,
Plenty of company there.

Dinner time approaches, the apprentice brings dinner
Half a loaf of bread, dug out, and filled with chips,
Plenty of Salt and Vinegar.
Then a link of black pudding
Washed down with four bottles of Stones Bitter,
And a couple of woodbines.
No Health and Safety here.
 
But Time moves on, 
The steel workers and Miners, all gone
Broken By Maggie.
Thrown on the scrap heap of yesterday.
Sculptors of their craft,
Never to work again.

Now the Rivers run clean.
And the birds sing,
And the sun, shines on the valley
But not on the Steel workers,
For they have faded away
Replaced by the souls of Progress,
Shopping Malls and stadiums.

For Sheffield is now a City of Sport.
And Tourism reins King.
But spare a thought, for these Men.
 Our Fathers, who lived there way,
With courage and honour.

Steel was there Church,
Built on the Foundations of Pride
Their graft, a noble Calling
And sacrifice, there honour in death.

These Men who celebrated Friendship,
 A pint, a smoke, and a gamble.
For this was their Home, their Sheffield,
It was Their Craft, Their sweat,
That, forged the world,
And it forged me,

And now, a part of my World is lost forever.
 So let the history books be kind,
And lets us remember fondly, these Men,
Made in Sheffield.



Details | Rhyme | |

Teddy

I got my Teddy on my first Christmas Day,
And ever since then in by my side he would stay,
He would travel with me whilst out in my pram,
And accompany me on both train and on tram,
Off to the shops, or to visit my Nan,
And so our adventure together began.

Together we’ve seen the castles in Wales,
And crossed the sea under square rigger’s sails,
Danced at a céilidh in a Glaswegian Hall,
Passed through the Schwartzwald and seen Berlin’s wall,
Siberian lakes and Moscow’s Red Square,
And wherever I went you’d find Teddy there.

As I grew older my Ted was still there,
And although he no longer would go everywhere,
At the end of the day, when I’d rest my head,
My bear would be waiting for me in my bed,
And together we’d cuddle throughout the long night,
Until we’d be woken by soft morning light.

Now courting a boy with a stuffed toy in toe,
Can become quite the embarrassment, so,
Of Teddy’s existence I chose not to tell,
Until I got to know my boyfriend well,
But when I eventually did choose to share,
I discovered my love had his own Teddy Bear!

Now that twenty eight years have gone by,
His fur has worn through and he’s losing an eye,
But you’ll never believe the things that we’ve seen,
Or all the wonderful places we’ve been,
No other toy on Earth can compare,
With my tatty and tired old bear!


Details | Narrative | |

The Hobo

Time's moments takes it's toll
 adding gravitational pull
 
To a body, so weighed down
 His chin can touch the ground
 
With pain visible on his face
 He lives sans his wit, and grace
 
A life of selfishness, his crime
 now sentenced, to a duel with time
 
And time's blatent tenacity
 plus it's control over eternity
 
Reminds the man how much it's cost
 for him to realize what he's lost
 
So he wears time's final wrath
 As he walks life's thorny path
 
All alone without a friend
 He walks the path to journey's end


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Modern Day Othellos

The stories folks can whisper into the ears of fellows,
when they are happy and mellow thinking of their
hearts' desire, if only to conspire and create animosity
with their loves,

Gossippers will put on their boxing gloves, spinning tales
of smut and gore, in order to create chaos galore,
until their minds are filled with arsenic and hatred
for the objects of their desire,

Modern Day Othellos are constantly surrounded by
evil gossip mongers who conspire to create mischief
and mayhem, relentless until they have ruined sacred
relationships and given innocent damsels a bad name.


Details | Didactic | |

~By Light Of Darkness~

~BY LIGHT OF DARKNESS~

SOMEWHERE 'LONG LINE OF MY YOUTH,CAME AN CHANGING OF GUARD...
AN SUDDEN SHIFT OF HEART,STOLE MY ENJOYMENT OF EXISTENCE
FROM LIES OF COVETED CONTENTMENT,I WAS ROBBED OF MY STRENGTH
OF AN NET SPREAD BROAD AS HORIZON,MY WINGS WERE LASHED AT MY SIDES

FORGIVEN ARE MY ADVERSARIES,BUT FORGETTING IS INFEASIBLE...
TH' BITTERNESS I'VE EXCHANGED,FOR POSSESSION OF PRICELESS WISDOM
MY BELITTLED BONES ONCE BROKEN,HAVE HEALED TWICE TH' STRONGER
AFTER MANY YEARS OF UN'WARENESS,I NOW QUESTION NOT MY PURPOSE

OFTEN I'M ACCUSED AS SINISTER,AS EYES OF BEHOLDERS I TEST...
OF THIS I OFFER DEUX RIDDLE...IS TH' IMAGE IN AN MIRROR BUT OPPOSING?
ARE TWO SIDES TO EVERY COIN NOT,BUT BOTH SHARE EQUAL WORTH?
THERE IS NOT ONE THAT I HATE,BUT AN TALLY OF INTENT I DO ABHOR

'LESS MY SPIRIT PROVE IT SABOTAGE,I DENY NONE LONGING FONDNESS...
'TIS SOMETHING I CAME TO REALIZE,THAT THROUGH DARKNESS IS AN PATH
'PON TREADING WITH DEATH AT HEEL,WE SHINE BRIGHTER NEXT WANDER...
...TO STUMBLE OUR LESS TH' MORE,IN AN FUTURE JAUNT'S NEXT PASS
                                                                     
                                                                    ~AZAZA~'09


Details | Blank verse | |

Soulless Wanderer

Scared to walk on the flagstones that your love would lay in my journey
My journey to freedom
My journey to diffidence  
My journey to destiny.
I returned back flake of your sole that was with me as a keepsake
AND started ambling legs on the promenade of my journey.

I didn't want to bail out from our story
I just wanted to elide your presence in my sole
You never brought any elegy to our imperishable bond but
It was me who rusted ours amicable relation and decided our segregation.

Walking away from your home and stepping on YOUR FOOTSTEPS
I felt your breath and relived every moment with you again but 
When I turned back I just saw a dilapilated house and a barren dusty road

NOW as I am roaming lugubriously I don't have you with me
Your absence has quenched my thirst for search of destiny 
And I have realized that my journey didn't began after leaving you but it ENDED.

Its not that I have forgotton you and my brain has erased photographic memories of you in my kaput life
I still remember you while sitting on the porch and watching the stars alone
I still remember you when I want someone to hold my hand and walk with me
AND I still remember the last meeting of our eyes.

Whenever these feeling start taking control of me I console my heart by saying

How could I have asked her to come when even I don't know where I am going.
I am just a Soulless Wanderer` 


Details | I do not know? | |

Distant African Nights

Those Distant African Nights...


1.


The shadows swayed in your candlelit room,

a cool breeze teasing your bare back,


streaks of lightning forked in the Johannesburg night,

as my hands stroked your hair,

kissing your soft mouth,

holding you,

ever so tight.



2.


You whispered that you loved me,

and I kept silent,


the rain fell, 
shadows danced,
thunder rolled,

the breeze teased your naked back,

you whispered that you loved me,
as my lips found yours,

the rain washed over our tender nights,


lightning and candlelight,

etching poems on your burnished skin,


yet,

a fear gnawed at me,

deep within.



3.


We parted ways,
and you could never forgive me, you said,


now, after numberless thunderstorms,

the rain that falls,


echo the countless tears that I have shed.



4.


You are long gone,

far away,

happy, I pray,


yet the memories persist,

those precious moments shall never, 
ever,

like the Jo'burg rains,
trickle away,

and I wish you well,
for loving me as you did,

for it was I who was not worthy,


then,


and it is I who is not worthy,


now...



5.


You were always true,


it was I who always,

always,

refused to,


to give myself,


completely to you.






Details | Rhyme | |

A World Finished

Snakes flying all over in the air 
And all creatures living without care
Wild animals swimming in the water 
Grouped or ungrouped does not matter
Strange to see all this happening 
No worry and none frightening 
The scorpions chose to suck the blood 
A sort of senseless, baffling method   
But then a cloud full of earthworms landed on earth
Wherever possible the creatures giving birth  
And the walking prawns on the land 
Don’t care for being with the sand 
Bothered only to get into the cloud 
And eating the worms, feeling proud 
Bats flying in random
No one feeling boredom 
Snakes and bats colliding with each other in air 
All that happens, for they don’t scare    
So much populated and dense the world turned out to be 
Some people living like animals by hanging on the tree  
That nothing seems to be in control 
Living without responsibility and role 
All living things, blatant by the heart 
They all concerned only to play their part
Never felt that they are hurting others 
Pulling hair and snatching feathers
As nobody feeling the pain 
Nothing to lose and gain 
Some people dying on the spot 
Never bothered and care about  
But many more of them giving birth wherever they like 
And the population without shame is always on the rise  
Nothing bothered the people 
No matter if they are not capable
Dragons, crocodiles, beasts all around 
In the waters and on the land they are found 
And no chance to construct a house and live in 
They all concerned only about eating and drinking in  
If anything comes their way they will do it 
But not education they prefer for the solution 
As there is no importance given to education 
One should realize that if there is no education 
Then for all the problems there will be no solution 

 


Details | I do not know? | |

The Sieve of Time



The Sieve of Time



Cast ashore,
along the banks of time,

whirling through the passing years,
clinging to my futile scribbles set in rhyme,


Cast ashore,
thrust into an unrehearsed pantomime,

clenching slivers of joy as weariness descends,
lulled into a peaceful slumber exhilaratingly sublime.


Cast ashore,
hazily adrift, a dandelion seed on the wings of time,

trapped in the sieve of spiralling memories,
caught between pristine bliss, and reeking slime.


Cast ashore,
flung aside for no discernible crime,

my human heart thuds with elusive hope,
though battered, bruised, and covered in grime,

I stagger ashore, 

alone,

embracing each moment of detached, oblivious time.



Details | Free verse | |

The White Fire Of Moonlight -And You

                                                                   
                                                                  *~*
                                                                    

                                       The silvery moon glided gracefully down-
                                             changing the night into a soft, golden pallor-
                                        its reflection softly glowing on the Earth below
         
                                   Peacefully- it crept into my window in a pale sea of dreams
                                      as I blissfully fell asleep in the cradle of Mother Nature

                                           In the nook of my soul my dream washed ashore…
                                           As the radiant moonlite looked up from the floor 
                                                                           And...
                                                               I peacefully dreampt of you

 
                                                                    *~*


Details | I do not know? | |

Without You



Without you,

worn down, weary,
staggering into tomorrow,
dissolving my todays, grim, dreary,

I crawl, slipping out of my skin,
flinging laughter, joy, contentment,
into the gaping abyss of life's dustbin.

Without you


Details | Free verse | |

Goodbye

Comforting words
Smooth, quiet tones
Reassurance 
complete confidence 

Long nights spent reasoning
In total understanding
Twin thoughts 
twin minds
twin miseries
and twin fates

Now it’s so quiet
Too quiet
Complete and utter silence....
Oh my God, 
What happened to the good old days
When we both made sense?!

Lost in blurry dreams of childhood
Colorful, wonderful, windy days
Subconscious cradled memories 
of the times when we 
were eachother’s only friends

Only you, 
	the sky
		the earth
			and me...


				No betrayal

			No lies
		No fire

	No hate

No regrets.

I think I can understand 
why you won’t face me
But your sudden silence
is so confusing

Did you ever know me well enough
to know my affection for ultimate honesty?
If you wanted me to go away
why didn’t you just say something? 

Only this emptiness is left
Inconsolable grief...
For what never again can be 

No warning
No parting words
No ceremony

You went and had the funeral 
for our friendship
but did not invite me

From the start
I thought these ways would always be
But in the end,
All I wanted, my friend 
was to say 
goodbye.

I can’t trust anyone
anymore
anyway

All alone again
shame on me


Details | Rhyme | |

Times Change

I was a boy.
When I was a boy
I loved every toy
smiled and laughed all day
I did nothing but sleep and play
I loved my friends and my family
Did everything so crazily
I was a cheerful fellow
and had cool friends who liked to play the piano

And then I grew up
And times changed

I am a teenager.
Being older is not so much fun
Life is like a race and I have to run
Study all day
No time for sleep or play
Stress replaced apathy
I don't want to do anything badly
Friends have changed
Preferences all rearranged
But, I push on forward
And moving toward
A better future and better days

I will grow older
And times will have changed.

I will be an adult.
I will be smart, rich, and happy
With a loving wife and beautiful kids, kissing them all gladly 
I will thank my parents for pushing me along
And fixing me when I did wrong.

Time changes
And what happens depends my choices
I'm going to make the best
out of my life now
So later I can rest.

©


Details | Rhyme | |

Just a Dream

When yesterday seemed but a dream
A figment of thoughts wished to be seen
A life that which could never be
A moment of truth to never set free
Held in the place of etheral light
To never be witnessed in true sight
Only to live in an old memory
For dreams are not real
No matter how much you wish they could be...


Details | Personification | |

War Stories

May Day, acid and the National Guard
You tell it so well, you tell it so hard
The dream, the trip and peace rallies you stress
We've heard them before selling war stories for less

Rinding in cars and running in the street
Locked behind bars, afraid of defeat
The dream , the trip and peace rallies you stress
We'ver heard them before selling war stories for less

You've fallen, get up and get out of here
Why risk being buried by the past many years
It's time for a change in you 'Little Boy,'
Pack up your bags, throw out your old toys

Why chance looking back when you're so far ahead
Go hang-up your hang-ups, awaken the dead
For the dream, the trip, and peace rallies you stress
All gone today and, people can care less

The Dream, the Trip and Peace Rallies you stress
Could have helped saved the world but 
our youth failed the test.


Details | Blank verse | |

The gentle hum of traffic....

Murmer...sing...ring...ting!
The smell of freshly baked bread.
Moan...groan...hummm...trickle
Mum humming...child's giggle
Tear...whiz...whip..steak sizzling!
Brush...drip.drip..clang...rattle.
Creeaak..tappp..BANG!
A bottle popping..fizzing.. opening..
Thump..cough...waves crashing..
Water boiling...steam rising...
Bird singing....cricket chirping.
Traffic whirring...chopping..hammering.
Soft conversation. Band playing...
Kettle whistling...
Cars humming in the background...
Chirping, croaking , crowing..
Occaasional distant tapping..
Knife chopping gently on board.
Clinking of teaspoons and bone china.
Twang! Interlacing sounds woven.
Pitter-patter...rain drops,
Car approaching,dog whistle and bark!
Scratching..ascending...descending.
Strong smell of coffee wafting
Cool breeze gently blowing..
Train tooting!


Details | Ballade | |

TIME CAN FREEZE YOUTH INDEFINITELY

This vain wish to live longer, somewhere,
makes me struggle with my vulnerability
of having been born with the fear of dying...
and before that is accomplished: let me live!


I've been told, " It's not possible that time can freeze youth indefinitely,"
but that intricate illusion was too persistent and real;
this boy always believed it would have never faded...
now being sorrowful and old, I realize how untrue and contrived it was!  


Be convivial and consume your time wisely,
don't hold the conviction that over-the-hill is the end;
you've gathered all the knowledge to survive another year,
and on your calendar mark every birthday and celebrate...
I will do the same believing that I'd continue walking in eternity
as when youth froze time to contradict an undeserved fate
without connoting wrong, but being congrous and fair...
oh, youth  your concession has compensated me for that loss!
  

I should be miserable as anybody else...lamenting and lashing,
but what good it would do if not harm me and shorten these days?
I enjoy every moment that life gives me...being hopeful for more to come;
others cuss, slander and end life demolishing all they had built in their past!
I denote my achievements as milestones that everyone will remember,
and certainly I'll be sought after for the secrets my words will unfold;   
and their purpose and extent are very conceivable to the scholar and reader...
not deploring the naive idea that time can freeze youth indefinitely.


Details | Senryu | |

One Must Touch The Earth

 
one could ride a horse
what use then would be your feet
one must touch the earth
 
(c) Christine A Kysely All Rights Reserved
 (November 10th, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin USA)


Details | Haiku | |

Big Brother

Domestic spying
striking similarities
1984


Details | I do not know? | |

Your Whisper

You whispered in my ear,
a breathy secret, hushed.

“I love you”, you murmured.

I said nothing,
lost, in your arms,
I found a home. At last.

“I love you”, you said,
I said nothing,
lost in my thoughts,
I found peace. At last.

“I love you”, you said,
words failed me then.

They still do.


Details | Lyric | |

Lamentation

Another song from the set made in middle school
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My life craves the soul And I’m all alone You stay—then off you go And I can’t hold on You will never know me For what I am [oh no] Can we forget? Can this just end? If we don’t believe How can we mend? Your face haunts my memory And I can’t move on Cuz here without you I feel…so numb Left out in the cold For you will never love me Was I too much [to mend]? But how can you see? How can you know [what I meant to you]? Could this be the end of the road Left to sleep alone? -Ooooooooh- Can we forget? Can this just end? If we don’t believe— Can I forget? Will my life end? If you don’t exist Why do I pretend?


Details | Free verse | |

Our Divine Haven

This town was the place we used to call our haven 
You don’t remember which road we’ve driven on 
The stars were shining against your cherished soul 
You’re a part of my belongings 
You’re ascending above the ground 
The peace is still like hidden treasure – it’s bound to be found

I believe in you…I put my faith in you
After the miracles you’ve performed 
You don’t agree with what you truly are 
The sky is grieving 
You jump from puddle to puddle
You’re struggling to meet your destiny  
Even if your body is saturated in sweat
You must keep your head above the sea

Follow me and I’ll lead you to divine haven 
Forgive the past that embraces you with remorse and think upon our jubilant future
It’s tempting to just give up and turn around 
I could tell you've been stressing out 
But rest your head on my shoulders and let loose your strain on me  

Each melody is an exquisite sound that bounces into our ears
Commotion and strife will cease and your heart will be free
We’ll flee  together…despite the unwholesome weather 
The voyage has just begun…hold my hand and we’ll rise like the sun
Trust me…we will be strengthened and well-equipped before we take that road of victory  

Follow me and I’ll lead you to divine haven 
Forgive the past that embraces you with remorse and think upon our jubilant future
It’s tempting to just give up and turn around 
You’d rather be drifting away and never be seen again 
I wanna change your mind and erase your frown
Take your mind off of the distressful past
Let loose your strain on me  

Hey! I know you’re stronger than you realize
You’re not a failure – don’t be disheartened  
Don’t worry…you and I will earn our future prize 
This mess will clear up in a moment
Just stay by my side and never depart 
From the light… I promise that we’ll endure till the end
Just stay nearby and our hope won’t tear apart
We are willing to do anything to attain our wishes and delight  
Let’s take action and snatch our glory before our time is up 

Follow me and I’ll lead you to divine haven 
Forgive the past that embraces you with remorse and think upon our jubilant future
It’s tempting to just give up and turn around 
You've been trying to keep a steady pace 
But rest your head on my shoulders and let loose your strain on me

Let loose your stress on me…
Don’t be under pressure
Let me handle your anxiety…
Reach towards our divine haven
Do you need a helping hand? 

I wish you a carefree 
Future


Details | I do not know? | |

'the twitch'

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


Details | Free verse | |

where the heart is strong

When I was young, I had no desire to grow roots.
Home happened where ever I kicked off my boots.
Now that I have traveled many lands,
I wish only to go back home.
To feel it, to see it, to hold it in my hands.
I wish no longer to roam.
Youth tends to be arrogant and blind.
Not knowing what I had, for home was mine.
Now it is the place for which I yearn.
The place from which I came, and wish to return.
The passing of time can have a strange effect on the heart.
After many wasted years, one wants to be back where we start.
Funny how being away for so long can change a soul.
Just as equally strange how coming home can make one whole.
This is where I will always belong,
For this is where my soul is at ease and my heart beats strong.









Sarah Comstock
5/20/00


Details | Free verse | |

Paramour

His brown eyes
She still feels them looking at her
His smile
She still see them smiling at her

She still remember their first time together
She still recall his touch
and she fell in love

The world was perfect
the colors were alive and vibrant
She was in love

He was a beautiful stranger
A stranger that caught her untamed heart
She was so in love

She remember how he cared about her
She remember the sound of his heartbeat
or was it just a make believe?

She thought he was her hero
didn't he try to rescue her?
and she gladly ran to him.

She thought his arms are her castle
as her head rest on his chest
there is no sky she couldn't fly

but she never knew..
She wish she had
the shadow of someone she thought he'll never be..

She thought he was her Knight..
but she didn't see..
the same knight whose sword is meant to bring death to her heart..

to him, she was nothing but a Paramour..


Details | ABC | |

The punishment of the Paradise

I saw my dream fly away like a bird that escaped my body.

It is dificult to touch something that can fly like a bird because dreams are born to 
live free in the mind, as the birds to the skies.

You can see the dreams, but from the moment that you try to touch them they 
disappear...just as the water disappears in the desert if you go close.

Don't try to taste the apple of paradise.
See it but don't touch it.

Because the dreams keep all the secrets and the magic of our lost paradise.


Copyright Constantinos Grigoriadis © All rights reserved


Details | Haiku | |

Reflection

Somber, forgotten:

Young taunting winds encircle

Lone-standing cactus.


Details | Free verse | |

The Memory Tree

There were times, long ago,

when the young, preteen me

would intertwine herself

with the age-limp branches

of one of the two odd trees out.

But now, five years later,

the new me has reshaped her story,

gazing back on the memory

of a childhood lost forever.

 

The rough, tangled bark,

painted with decade-old blood

and knifepoint carvings

and skin interlaced in its valleys

where her knees had once tread.

I remember it and her tearless eyes;

where has the fearlessness gone?

 

There was once birdsong there,

mingling with my ignorant laughter.

The occasional scream there sounded, too,

when a prepubescent girl saw eight legs

and two beady eyes:

just as scared of her

as she was of it.

 

Most of these things are gone now,

replaced by year-dried leaves

and tripping roots.

But I have left my mark there,

my own memory at its roots:

a pool of purple tinged wax

and a skunkline of ash

halfway up its trunk;

a mirror to the pain

I felt that day.

Now, when I return,

the smoke is still present,

clinging to the ha