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Social Nostalgia Poems | Social Poems About Nostalgia

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

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Details | Free verse | |

Sometimes

Sometimes I am happy, sometimes I am sad.
Sometime I sing, sometimes I stammer

Sometimes I dance on the music of my soul, Sometimes I dance on the fingers of 
one single person
Sometimes I expect so much from others; sometime I myself can’t meet my own 
expectations.

Sometime I make fun of others and feel bad later, sometimes life makes fun of me 
and I smile
Sometime I win and sometimes I lose, sometimes I don’t even understand whether I 
won or lost.
 
Sometimes I laugh as if whole world is with me,
Sometimes I cry as if I am alone wandering in a strange land

Sometimes I give up so easily
Sometimes I work so hard that no one can stop me to achieve what I want

Sometimes I am dynamic person, who wants to change the world,
And sometimes I am a kid who expects anyone to embrace him tightly.

Sometimes I feel happy about the achievement of my enemy
Sometime I feel dejected with my own success.

Sometimes I help others and show them the right path
Sometimes I feel totally helpless and don’t know where to go

Sometimes I ask god to please give my past back
Sometimes I pray to show me the way forward


Life is composed of SOMETIMES and I just flow with that.
U admit or not but you are also sailing on the same boat.
So join me and enjoy it EVERYTIME as SOMETIMES life is very short!


Details | Rhyme | |

THEY DON'T BITE LIKE THEY USED TO

He sat there in his fav'rite chair, a blanket 'cross his lap 
And covering his snow white hair was his old fishing cap. 
I knew he could not talk to me since suffering the stroke, 
But still I sensed he could relate to ev'ry word I spoke. 
"I went and wet a line today ... down where you caught that cod. 
The biggest one you'd landed yet and though it was my rod 
I reckon he was yours all right ... but cod are far and few.  
They don't bite like they used to dad.  They don't bite like they used to." 
 
"The algae's building up again and stuffing up the creeks, 
Though at long last we had a fresh, the first in flam’in weeks. 
Pulled twenty stinking euros in, along with one old dew, 
But they had sores all over them, though still that's nothing new. 
The cotton farmers cry, "Absurd!  It can’t be from our spray." 
Perhaps the fish have just got aids from turning flam'in gay. 
Its getting pretty sad all right, but what can one bloke do.   
They don't bite like they used to dad.  They don't bite like they used to." 
 
"McDonalds seems to be the go and good old KFC 
And eating yellow-belly is a flam'in rarity.   
Your grandson won't go fishing as he says it's just for nerds 
And when I take the missus we just end up having words. 
I really miss our fishing trips, your company was swell 
And by the mist there in your eyes you miss them dad as well. 
I heard you sold your tinny mate, your outboard motor too.  
They don't bite like they used to dad.  They don't bite like they used to." 
 
They're introducing fingerlings and giving that a shot, 
But duckweed takes the oxygen which kills the flam'in lot. 
The droughts have had their toll as well and one thing that's for sure; 
I can't see in the future dad a remedy or cure. 
So mum's ducked down to Salty's mate and I would dare a punt 
She'll come back with a feed of fish before you say Rex Hunt. 
I guess we'll have to wash it down with some of your home brew. 
They don't bite like they used to dad.  They don't bite like they used to." 


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 | I do not know? | |

Tishmandu

Tishmandu
 
My eyes can see
That the sand is like sea
And it stretches to the end of my mind
On a ship set to sail
with four legs and a tail
Tishmandu I set out to find
 
Now the wind is of sand
and can lend a hand
in tearing the flesh from your bone
So your head you keep wrapped
your snaps keep snapped
and you never travel alone
 
The heat at midday
is to kill and waylay
if the body and soul are not one
So you pray to the east
and prepare for slim feast
begging passage under full sun
 
Caravan of the seed
born on camels that breed
in an endless march between wells
Over lost count of dunes
under God and full moons
blessing passage with incense and bells
 
At the end of the day
when gold turns to grey
and the stars brighten the skies
A device is brought forth 
to determine true north
and the path where Tishmandu lies
 
On the fortieth morn
pressing lips to the horn
a signal beckons us wake
Leaving water behind
on a course now refined
the final leagues we must take
 
Tishmandu is a place
where a white mans face
has never been seen or allowed
But the people have need
and my service agreed
in a land under sky without cloud
 
Like feathers of blue
in the distance I view
the flags on top of the walls
Though my limbs are worn
my very fabric is torn
I move towards Tishmandu halls
 
At last in the shade
a walled shelter is bade
I meet with the maker of rules
A service I bring
but to rules I must cling
or a tortures price must be paid
 
Twenty days and seven
in the passes of heaven
I treated the sick and the lame
With rules on my mind
the medicines I grind
The devil of Tish for to tame

As I washed the sick
and avoided blunt stick
the God of the desert did smile
For the people made well
in this fortified hell
where spirit is subject to trial
 
In the end I am paid
for the journey I made
and the healing and medicine new
On my camel back
salted meats in my pack
I Bid farewell to Tishmandu
 
RAMA, Ink


Details | Verse | |

Apollo

I never meant that much to you,
   Though from Olympus' heights you came;
Yet I gave you my mortal love,
   While you played your immortal game.

Although my heart I freely gave,
   I never meant that much to you;
You wooed me with your golden harp
   On fragrant grass 'neath skies of blue --

And when you scaled the heights once more,
   Did you think I would slowly die?
I never meant that much to you --
   So why do you now shake and sigh?

Oh, how the golden god has changed!
   Your sun-kissed hair has lost its hue;
And I have wed a mortal man --
   I never meant that much to you.


Details | Light Poetry | |

FLIRTY DANCING

valse,valet a,highland fling
viola,fiddle,music string;
minuet,pavane rondeau
tripping lightly to & fro.

flirty dancing,fancy free
quick-step and ladies excuse-me;
fox trot and last waltz slow,
holding close,as passions grow.


Details | Personification | |

HipHop Is dead

Hip-Hop is dead
I can’t feel the throb, the devotion, the dedication
I wear all black
Black stilettos, black cut dress, aimed real low
Seductive but simple, I know my place
Beside the King, my sweet deceased Revolutionist 
Rap’s number one supporter, holding the casket with a broken
           S I G H
Someone plays, a radio, across the way
Slick beats drip past the ears to slime the brain
Wet and easy manipulated clay
Media displays wealth and misogyny
50 million dollar chains  
Females addicted to being slapped around
Like China Dolls in half-made    Cl    o   thes
Pose, Shawty and let this crunk beat fill your hips
Purse your lips, Mami, and I’ll let you
Be my accessory
Remember when the revolution was a evolution of the mind
Freestyles match drums in intensity
When freestyles were uncontrolled like the wild brown skin he was in
I felt, loved, Hip-hop in my veins
Let him be the catalyst  for the beating of my heart
I was so in love with his swagger, his love of himself and his people
Hat tipped real       low      to hide the pain

Beat real tight to stop the taint
Of failure and to rise like the dust after a stampede
I’d take Hip-Hop to bed every night
Let him rise and fall like the heaving of my chest
It was so hot I could barely breathe for the intensity overcoming me
The pounding of intellect in my throat
Stroked me from head to toe
And Rocked my ghetto loving soul
And he said things I’ve waited my whole life to hear
play sweetly in my ear
Dreaming of dreams too big
To let fade away
He grew shallow, loving women with hollow heads and thick thighs
Low rides and forgetting what he left at home
Long nights and overtime left me alone
Released hundreds of  artists
Torn between money and the spoken word
His best friends tried to revive what was inside, too late the damage took over
50 Cent arrived with Lil’s, and Young’s and a mess of southern heat
I was there when the light left his eyes
After Dr.Dre’s Chronic
Hip-Hop was Dead 


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 | Verse | |

Ding Dong The Wicked Witch is Dead

Globally, miners jubilantly jump for joy
Smiles on the faces of every girl and boy
The grins of a newly opened Xmas toy
Thatcher’s dead.

Trade unionists bounce along the street
Music blaring and the tapping of feet
From nurses to Bobbies still on the beat
Thatcher’s dead.

Street parties announced in the nation
Satan who brought economic inflation
Is deceased, now’s the time for elation
Thatcher’s dead.

Its times like this I’m sad I’m an atheist
And can only shout and wave my fist
And then go to the pub and get pissed
Thatcher’s dead.


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 | Pastoral | |

Truest Love






      ******

    It's truest form
Is to love others'
        - As -
Thee Love Thy-self
      ------
   This is both a blessing
To God and a Blessing
      Worthy to be
Bestowed upon Others'
      ------
   But first seek the
       Kingdom
  Of God
Fore His very word
    Will Absolve Thee


          Poet Author
          Gary Fields


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 | I do not know? | |

I'm Sorry For Being So Cold

My words may feel so cold,
Yet this feeling of falling and 
Then trying to be so loving
Eventually misleads me to 
Feeling like she or myself 
Is gradually shoving my feelings 
Through an invisible door.

It's all so not worth 
Letting this sorrow corner me in,
My mind is wondering if I'm truly fine with
Having no one special in my own current life.

My reasons for trying to 
Move onwards from there
Were nothing but idealized dreams
Turning into unpleasant realities. 

Who knew that a few days 
After those euphoric moments
I would be realizing that 
The strings of my heart were pulled
By desires so unnecessary for healing 
My own inner strife.

My words may have been so cold,
But it's only because this sorrow I go through
Will always continue beyond tomorrow.

You don't deserve being 
My eternal object of depression,
Yet you are also even taking it 
All too simply to be the object
Of my true love and affection.

My feelings from loving you 
Were absolutely true,
But I now see I was so wrong 
In believing in my own naïve thoughts.
So fleeting was the beautiful 
Rendering of my soul,
Except that no one knew then 
That it was only a game of pretend.

Wanting my first kiss returned, 
Yet again I guess first can mean the worst,
So I guess I'll find someone 
Who will become my second best.
After telling you I can't love you anymore, 
I now feel as if I can finally rest.

My words were only so cold,
Because something in the depths of my heart
Was calling out to be heard.

In the end though I have released myself
From the bittersweet feelings I gained from 
My voice and feelings that once were forsaken.
I'm sorry for being so cold.


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 | 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 | 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 | |

Flashbacks Of The 70's

It was Life During Wartime.
People finally became Superfly,
waking up from a Teenage Lobotomy,
having spent too many years Comfortably Numb.

We had to Try and Tear The Roof Off The Sucker,
Walk On The Wild Side,
send a strong message with a Whole Lotta Love,
proving how we still had a Lust For Life-
Let The Good Times Roll,
learning how to Fly Like An Eagle
through Dreams of Changes
before it was too late!

Yes, we were Rock Steady,
hooked on Radar Love,
driving past the Hotel California
in pimped-out Low Rider's.
Taking One Toke Over The Line
of some outdoor Sweet Leaf,
brains filled with Cocaine,
watching the Smoke On The Water
rise up in the pupils of our purple haze.

Imagine if you will,
Riders On The Storm pumping fists in the air,
moving along, never standing still.
My Papa Was A Rolling Stone,
pulled an Ace Of Spades from the deck
held in the quivering paws of a Black Dog-
a Gypsy stumbling through a Bohemian Rhapsody,
always Watching The Detectives
make Trouble for the Pusher Man.

Poor Jimi died in London
before there was Anarchy In The U.K.!
But we kept him alive by trippin' on daisies,
Takin' Care Of Business,
by calming the Bridge Over Troubled Water.
It wasn't about Us & Them anymore....

....no, we were all in this together,
fighting to Stir It Up,
Stayin' Alive
against The Robots and Evil Ways 
of too many War Pigs.

Flashbacks will show how nothing has changed!
Live by the sword, die by the sword-
when will we give peace a chance?



*Used 40 song titles of the 70's (only some of my favs!) to create this :D~


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 | |

fearful, fearless


i’m scared.
scared of odd little things:
glass doors,
windows,
leading to the outside world.
paranoia of unexpected guests,
curled under cupboards, and strangers stabbing on sidewalks.
i’m alone in my dark fantasies.

and yet, i’m unafraid.
i crave the reckless life, cheating, binging on drugs and sex and life.
the life where i’m the unknown girl that everyone knows.


Details | Lyric | |

Zoo - Just to Amuse You

One fine day, I planned a visit to zoo
Alone landed amidst the fauna left so few
Treaded merrily on greenery, singing my heart out
Whilst a lion’s scary roar made me shout

‘Ah! Another visitor’, said the lion annoyingly
‘Why should we entertain you?’ said he fumingly
‘What’s the point in wasting your energy and mine?
Making us do the funny acts, do they seem so divine?’

Hearing those words I dared
Reduced the distance, still scared
Said I, ‘Stop fuming King of Jungle, watch out for your age,
Hadn’t I come to visit you, wouldn’t you be bored in your cage?’

‘The answer dwells in your question, silly girl
You humans have no heart of pearls,
The so-called king of jungle imprisoned in cage
Heartthrob of millions I was, at my early age’

‘To meet my family, hope it doesn’t get too late
I need to eagerly meet ‘em all, my cubs, my mate
I still feel them, they are waiting for me
Oh girl! Be kind enough to set me free.’


I couldn’t have done that with all my might
Turned my way, delighted by a peacock’s sight
The multihued beauty was sheltered in a metallic cage
Awe! Gloomy this beauty looked, in distress and rage

‘What is wrong? Do you want to fly?’
It turned around and looked straight at the sky
‘Show me those vibrant feathers, the fan-like crest
Guests would adore seeing you dance at your best’

‘I dance just for my love, my love for rain,
Cool breeze no more likes crossing my lane
Why do I open my feathers without my mate’s presence?
Just to amuse you, I shall do; confined in this fence’

Dumbstruck, I decided to turn my way
Walked ahead in quest of animals happy and gay
There it was! A crazy monkey, flirting and making its choice
Mimicking others and playing around, hear its evil noise

Bouncing, bouncing and dancing, dancing
It ruled as if dungeon’s dominant king
Wow! You look so happy; what’s the reason?
‘Girl! No more fun for you, ‘coz free I’ll be from this prison’.

Two giant men came forward and opened the door
Good Lord! It’ll be free, unkind humans is just animal’s lore!
Monkey screeched, ‘Meet me soon in the nearby forest
Where I meet my pals, play, eat, have fun and rest’

 Happy to see the monkey’s joy, I walked ahead
Across the bushes, saw a van, a huge van in red
Giant men carried animals and dumped in the van
Shocked I was to see the sight and reckoned their plan

Why was my monkey friend inside, for what purpose?
It was clear as I read the van’s name, ‘The Great Royal Circus!’


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 | |

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 | Light Poetry | |

Face of Foul

July 30th 2010

Face of Foul

Clever thy is or thy once was?
On a clear day, I did indeed pray.
So then, the clouds flew over me.
After many adjustments came doves.
Then feathers tumbled as they fray.
Thus, a backstroke of a quill is a key.

Far far away in a land farthest from thou:
I cover fields of flesh mind body and soul.
And not one sole an error in face of foul.
I have sown them all together as a whole.

Let you be known: I have put my foot down upon your Mighty Head!
Let ye also be known that I do sleep in a Queen, not King sized bed.

®Registered: Ann Rich 2010


Details | Ballad | |

Give Me a Shot

As soon as I walk in, 
you walk right up to me;
And I know what I want, 
but you ask me what I need.
I know you're just doin' your job, 
and I'm just doin' mine,
but I cannot help but wonder if you're open, come closin' time.

There aren't many people, 
with whom, I get along;
And there are even fewer, 
for whom, I'll write a song,
but you like to hear me sing, 
and I like to watch you pour.
I wonder if there's something that we both would like much more.

Hey, bartender.  Would you wait on me?
I guess I'll just have to wait and see. 		
But I don't care if it's last call or not - 
Hey, bartender.  Would you give me a shot?

Let's make a toast:  To making the most of most.
Let us not look to see.  What will be, will be.

So, when you close out my tab,
and I ask for one more thing;
And say, "Could you call me - a cab?" 
'Stead of "Call me in the morning."
'Cause I don't wanna go too far, 
but I don't wanna go without; 
So, if I am where you are, 
please, bartender, don't close me out.


Details | Free verse | |

This Union Means Jack

Twitching limply atop an Ulster lamppost
Like a hung man, legs kicking in spasm at the last seconds of life
Its bigoted purpose now spent and now abandoned to the elements
No longer recognisable as the flag of union, a rag, a disgrace

Its fate summarises the fall of a culture that once honoured it
A proud nation of proud men, of starched collars and stiff upper lip
Colonially pink maps on schoolroom walls bore testament to empire
An empire won and lost when the map turned from pink to red
 
Up and at ’em lads! For King and country! Hold the banner high!  
Ypres and the Somme, regiments of the brave under one colour
The twitching curtains of multi-culture now fearful of the emblem
The emblem of abhorrence uncased by those not qualified to fly it

Patriotism, a narrow path parting pride from prejudice
Defined by a flag, one duplicitous fluttering cloth, a split personality
Now the badge of hooligan, xenophobe and pop diva
Courage now gone, bleached by sun, washed by rain…atop an Ulster lamp post


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 | Rhyme | |

Embracing the Obsolete

Time running, flowing
away
where are the treasures
of yesterday
so many things gone, vanished
obsolete
the horse and buggy
the rumble seat
but more than that
as time goes by
the young don’t even seem to try
to embrace the things that we hold dear
like morals and values
it’s all to clear
the things we embraced in our youth
time took it’s toll
and no longer plays a roll
but with help and patience
kind and true
we might just see this generation
through.


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 | 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 | 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 | 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 | 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 | 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 | Acrostic | |

Unexpected Peers (An acrostic ode to Poetry Soup and it's members)

Unexpected Peers (An acrostic ode to Poetry Soup and it's members)	
(9.7.10)

Passion
Overwhelmed
Elementary
Thoughts.
Roaming
Youth
Saw
Out,
Under
Pen.

Prolific
Obsession
Engrossed
Time.
Rhythm
Yielded
Structure;
Observation
Unleashed
Power.

Pride
Offered
Extroversion.
Trajectory
Rose,
Yet
Self-doubt
Occurred.
Undercurrent
Pulled.

Pushed
On;
Expanded
Tools;
Read.
Yesterday
Stopped
Overstaying-
Usurping
Present.

Posted
Online.
Enjoy
The
Rhymes
You 
Share
Openly,
Unexpected
Peers.


            I haven't been on this site long, but many of you have already made me feel
welcome, and, moreover, like I belong.  I'm finding myself as inspired as I have ever been
to keep writing, and to keep growing as a writer, thanks to your support, your contests,
and your own original posts.  This is, truly, a special community.  
            Thanks for allowing me to become a part of it.


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 | Haiku | |

colors of freedom

colors of freedom
remind us what wars have cost --
we must not forget


Details | Dodoitsu | |

Early 1950s in Jacksonville Fl

Wafting on the morning breeze,
During manufacturing
Our whole town enjoyed the scent.
Maxwell House Coffee.

Freshness permeating air.
Aroma percolating.
Infusing memories of…
Grandma’s coffee pot.

June 3, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnen


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 | Verse | |

Composed Coffee Cup in Hand

Tall terrace housebow-fronted windows
Opulescent green lined walls silk paper
18th century  French  marquetry  pattern
Glowing dressing  table  walnut  veneer
Smoked salmon kisses heart on sleeve 
That  color  does   become   her  kitchen
A  glimpse  of   yellowing  autumn  trees
Stately  home  ancient  lake  full  of   fish 
Pot of coffee  polished mahogany  table.
Beautifully raised gaze. .Private moment . 
enormously enjoyed  each others  comp
Ushered out....gates slid quietly together
delicate cabriole legs. oyster satin fabric
Loin of pork  ,   leg of lamb ,   frozen cake.


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 | Free verse | |

a moment in time

							

it’s a cold dark
perhaps rainy night
in detroit, michigan
in the early 1930’s
a young man
hails a taxi 
to get to his job on the docks

he looks at the driver
and says
you know,
after we are both married
and have kids
and after the war

thirty years from now
your youngest daughter
will marry my oldest son


and we two will become
fast friends
…………
not likely,
since one was black and
one was white
and they probably
wouldn’t be able to
ride in the same car
in the  ‘30’s
in detroit

but eighty years later
I still like to picture it


Details | Pantoum | |

Penny Plight

No more shall I afford again for love to wish
Or find the copper price of break buried in mud
No more its sound in the blind man's enamel dish
No more the bracelet toxic fountain turned to blood 

Or find the copper price of break buried in mud
The red penny used, forgotten, disdained, denied
No more the bracelet toxic fountain turned to blood
No more worth for economic drain villified

The red penny used, forgotten, disdained, denied
It freed my lips from juju and lollipops stain
No more worth for economic drain villified
The world is changing fast nothing good shall remain

It freed my lips from juju and lollipops stain
Nor shall I for a penny's wish find love and joy
The world is changing fast nothing good shall remain
As the penny goes so goes the girl and the boy.


Details | Rhyme | |

Geek Mountain

It started quite some time ago
His name was Pitfall Harry
I learned of bits and algorithms
On a 2600 Atari

And then there came Nintendo
It began my end I think
For I had to rescue Princess Zelda
As a courageous lad named Link

I peered at that screen for hours
Each puzzle, each riddle, each stage
And Gannon was no match for me
My frenzied button rage

The torch then passed to Genesis
And with it Altered Beast
Addicted to those graphics
My life outside had ceased

Compulsion soon would fade
I slowly began to bore
Then Sony created the gamers dream
To brilliant to ignore

Dazzled bye amazing play
lost for a year or two
Acting as an exercise scarecrow
And girl repellant too

So now I have no gaming system
But it seems that my PC
Is the summit of Geek Mountain
And that's where you'll find me.
-------------------------------------------
That last line written years ago
Such games are no longer fun
For Im filled with glee and happy to be
Reaquainted with the sun


Details | Lyric | |

A Running Chestnut- Acoustic Phonology

Toyous melody of childhood memories 	                                                          Board in tune becomes a high wire trapeze   						        Two cans and a string acoustic phonology 						               Each part paper comb sings the bucket drum 				                        With whizzing blade of grass in hands with breath hum  			              The paper roll trumpet blows ensemble strums         					    Running along the day grows as children play  				                   Rolling hillside a box becomes a sleigh  							     Tutor love pea shooter from across the way  				                      After a rain paper boat follows the drain    							           Bows arrows cornstalk fiddle finish reframe               					       Hoop and guider dolls cat and mouse homemade plain


Details | I do not know? | |

the backstage of a smiling face.

   Behind my smiling, gleaming face,	
   Lie depressions unspoken,
   Completely untold and unveiled.


   Behind the felicit mask,
   Stream tears of blood unstoppable.
   The result of pains, unbearable pains.
   And the leftover vague illustrations,
   Of the runaway happiness
   Which too…
   Are only spondant memories.


   Don’t judge a face 
   By the huge smile it stocks
   Because behind the curtains
   Swirl the fogs of grief…
   …Of unemerged, untold unhappiness
   This is the backstage of a smiling face,
   So looking “jolly” face.

                                                          
                                                      
                                                  FATIMA KHAN    


Details | Cinquain | |

Fireworks

Fireworks
Colorful Explosions
Erupting For All To View
Sparklers


Details | Ballad | |

Night's a groovy lady

Orange lights shine from street lamps, 
orange lights shine on what is paved,
Something about the tail end of our conversation 
left me feeling slightly vague. 

This car has 
Translucent windows, 
like a submarine out at sea, 
the current swallows red headlights
while exhaling shiny, tipped waves 

Looking through the rearview mirror, 
The night was staring back at me. 
She’s a delicate, psychedelic lady
Ripe with her purity. 

Reading the white lights of the city, 
I place a book mark for a rainy day. 
gliding towards the illuminated tunnel 

(traffic sounds)

Plunge! 
Into Bustling traffic, 
and faster paced people,     
I never considered cigarettes, 
until I washed up,
 onto this flickering scene.  

Sirens sound, 
Traffic skates, 
strangers smile and frown. 

I-
got myself a traveling circus, 
of people I call friends. 

Funny how little flares of imagination 
send us shooting to the stars-

(party sounds)


Clash!
like banging of pots and pans
The ruckus in the room, 
has me bouncing off the walls

Police Officers, 
neon green tuxedos-  
Penny Lane.  
we are all just here tonight, dancing, 
along this colorful, crazy row-boat of life.  

Yes,
we are all just here tonight dancing- 
like sunlight touching diamonds, 
we are dancing   

It’s 
Funny how little flares of imagination, 
send us all stringing along.


Details | Rhyme | |

Fine Line

What is your drug of choice,if one is had.Booze,weed or LSD,cocaine,speed or PCP!There are many that we do but this crap is not good for you.
Nothing to gain for scars I bare but drink and crap my underwear!
Snort a line,what can I do,keep snorting until my face turns blue!
Pop a lid and watch me fly and watch the wall melt while I fry!
Puff a blunt,I feel just fine until I lose all track of time!
One teaspoon of dust inside my wine and I go swimming with the swine!
Oxycoten is not for me when I have got the need for speed!
Now I bounce back off the wall because I hear a special call!
That call is called reality,it screams this will be the end of me!
What choice is there when life is hard and I am dealing my last card!
Get off my ass and out of bed and if I fail I end up dead!


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 | 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 | 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 | 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 | Free verse | |

scum

What is bad stock?
Plasticine people smiling within Formica walls
Where hippy drains a fathers fool
As Ma Baker dominates the town 
By day before taking her draws 
Down...
Shes a ho.. He's a whimp
Out dancing with Lucy 
Sky high
So return with a bump to earth kids
And scrimp
And scrape
The crap from the local rag
A coal fire infused
With amusing fags 
Thirteen coppers and a few irate 
Snobs
Armed guns
Be loyal littuns and
Shut your gobs
We... Were bad stock from the filthy side of koi

Five little girls
Not one boy

(As twas)


Details | Rhyme | |

Subjected to Frost

Subjected to Frost at an early age
I and friends have since chosen our way
Thus many have traveled on the trodden path
I as Epimetheus see their folly at last
Knowing their hearts- how they long to go back

We few who still walk stringently down a narrow way
Have no desire to dwell back to that day
The path of life chosen this few now walk
Leads to the dream we long have stalked

Sequestered dreams by hoards at wayward doors
Glitzing a promise to a path more worn
Tis easy on the eyes, the heart, and the feet
Making each voluptuous gate seemingly straight-sweet

But I keep to this narrow grassy path- chosen by me
For to waver or detour would be dream’s death to me


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 | I do not know? | |

Pink Plastic Princess

There she sat, head tilted back in elegance
Pushed 
By her father in her 
Pink plastic chariot
Barely two years old

With golden multicultural skin
A crown of silken shiny curls
Framed her gorgeous face of regency 
Style, heirs and grace

And she knew

She was fabulous 
As she was whooshed past my
Car window
Off through the grey sordid concerete
As a bright cheery spot
Pushed by her proud, proud father
Gracefully
Picking her tiny 
Button nose ....


Details | Lyric | |

Sorhleod

It was the myriad relapse The shadows perched, time slipped, the temptation resided to my mind I'm sure I have most the soul I never once had Lost; once you go into the dark eternal black there's no hope of dreaming of atoning back Small child I cling to you trying to savor the innocence When I could believe in everything again I tried All along to search for the truth But " the truth" is something that the truth eradicated I want to be ignorant again Can't face reality again Cease the pain that the pills can't heal Evaporate the blood that negates the strife Let me believe in everything again Break the fear Remove the pins of reality And I still wonder why And I still wonder why "forgive" makes me cry I can't make it stopThe razor beckons my name The scars and all their Shame... Find a way to pierce my serpent heart Through the iron membrane it's bleeding, I know When I have no cigarettes to burn When I have no more knowledge to Learn When I have no more xanax To cause concern I've dried out My heart is loosing it's touch There's no way out The abuse and abyss has sealed me Cease the pain that the pills can't heal Evaporate the blood that negates the strife Let me believe in everything again Break the fearRemove the pins of reality And I still wonder why And I still wonder why "forgive"makes me cry I've dried out My heart is loosing it's touch There's no way out The abuse and abyss has sealed me I've dried out tMy heart is loosing it's touch There's no way out The abuse and abyss has sealed me


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 | Blank verse | |

MY TURN

That morning! Seemed to arise late
And I was to get up earlier that day;
No time to feel that salubrious ambiance,
And no minute to yawn or relax!
Coz, hundreds and fifties were waiting before my turn!
Yes, it was for the priceless fluid-
Flows like a silver surge on a hosepipe.
Women frenzied with their containers
And men appalling near them!
And I with a nostalgic deliberation-
Pondered why it was made insufficient?
After a series of thoughts-flashed the certainty:
Everything’s because of us and only because of us!
I then muted myself and moved ahead for my turn, unwilling to lose my chance for it.


Details | Free verse | |

The Guardian of the Morning Light

The Guardian of the Morning Light,
Creeps out of his little space warm and soft.
No one will waste that precious morning light.
Our little fur ball will see to that.
Oh ye of little sleep… 
Give up the covers or ye will weep.
The door becomes his drums, 
To announce the morning rays of the sun.
He wakes the dogs up to whine and pace, 
Eventually they will lick our face.
The window curtains will begin to part till they…
Shower our faces and eyes with light… not soft.
Then the bed begins to shake…
As everyone begins the climb to our face.
But the secret weapons are about to come in.
The kitty has awoken the little children.
Cold feet assail us as they climb in place.
The dreams of a cuddle are now replaced…
But tomorrow will be another day
If I could only find a place to keep him at bay.
ZZZ’s are the treasure of days gone by…
But the future is richer with all these guys.

Now, if only, the Guardian of Light will be polite
And give us one more minute of sleepy respite…


Details | Sonnet | |

Another World

Where do we go when we go away?
And why is it that we have to leave?
What happened to Adam and to Eve?
Where is the greatest scale to weigh?
 
Where do we go when we want to stay?
What about this great big world weave?
What about you what do you believe?
So what dues do we have left to pay?
 
Why me?
Why you?
I can see?
You do to!
 
I think we’ve all been twirled,
All the way into another world!
 
 
© Copyright: Ann Rich   2006


Details | Didactic | |

A Secretarial Promise

The whistling wire held the scene, 
headlong in wisdom and ulterior motives, 
glistening midst the mid morning dew. 
A pariah was needed, a messianic fraud, 
a masochistic minister 
draped solemnly in monastic garbs, 
eloquent in verse and fluent in scripture. 
The candidates were few in number, 
but fastidious in hope, 
eagerly chaining themselves to the 
Byzantine pillars of top down tenacity, 
passively quoting the quintessential paradigms, 
a multitude of woe. 

The secretarial promise was soon fulfilled, 
placidly preserved. 
The malamide drenched doyens of crystalline faith 
drew blood from the stone, 
usurping the misogynistic hierarchy 
of erstwhile fatherhood, 
trampled underfoot. 
“Leave time as it is… without redemption or hope.” 

The carnival of carnality 
led an abattoir in bloom, 
methodically maligning 
the mythic gesture of choral pragmatism, 
an existential orifice pervading ingrate lust. 
Adjacently exposed, the ballpoint corridors 
of evangelical awareness lay silently intact. 
Tracing the tactless tracts of 
faecal vocalism and liberalistic aesthetics, 
slithering amidst loquacious prose. 
Seething under the rhythmic theocracy of solicited denial, 
ironically implied. 
“Ink stains, smudged with disillusionment, 
partitioned the periphery of each and every lucid statement. 
Fleetingly reserved and intrinsically denounced. 
Drowning amongst the quill tipped cartilage 
of unanimous appraisal.”


Details | Senryu | |

So Predictable

so predictable:
political maneuvers
by the left and right


Details | Free verse | |

nothing ever will

touched your name
tapped a keypad
and frog-like-lilly-leaps
found me
fly-like with
accuracy
after so strong a bound


Details | Free verse | |

Remove Your Mask

It covers your soul as darkness draping over the sunlight,
Your Spirit seeks the world with penetrating eyes,
An undisputable wave, a persuaded glance, 
A vanity inside abiding, and nonetheless
 Fragmented consumed exhibits –
 Pieces as shattered glass,
Dusted with suffering in twinkling’s time,
Whirling with frenzy, becoming a cavort
With mere thoughts of an empty heart-
Seeking out an eternity of dual hearts
Winged hand-in-hand evoking beauty,
A joyful dawn, a gem of love,
And mystery given by hours of a gentle work;
 Your guarded soul knowing each mask which
Stands wishing and seeking the selfsame,
Poses evolving and amassing little understanding,
Statutes unfair do never-rest,
 Simply leads to bareness far and wide;
Prisoner kept inside your encased wearied mask,
Do not accede to life’s ragged hand slaying your treasure,
Disrobe the mask you wear and sanctioned, 
Mark your love and tranquility for a time to come,
Allow your soul to breathe unleashed;
Why wear that mask you display?


Details | Rhyme | |

Oblivious

I look around me
no one in this world see the way I see.
I live my life without worries
I live carefree
Oblivious to the world
I live in a fantasy
where no one can touch me.
All around me is moving
I stand still and dream.
Dream of a life that is unreal
or so it may seem.
Society is so unforgiving
some might say for this reason
life is not worth living.
Who cares what society believes of me
I am free to live my fantasy.
Life is so much better
when you don't realize 
how unfair this world can be.
Mothers just trying to provide and dying on the streets.
What kind of world do we live in today
This world is evil
and must change somehow someway.
So until that day
I can live my fantasy
and believe that this world is better 
than what my eyes see.


Details | Light Poetry | |

' Vacation Play ... '

Calypso, Bèlè, Limbo,  Reggae
And a Pool Boy, Called Lonny Ray
Margarita and Coolers, by The Bay
All With Umbrellas at Seaside Café’

Like Caribbean Pirates, Taking A Chance
Shaking Our Lala, Wining-Dance
Vacation Adventure, Love-Romance
Worth Every Penny of Check-Advance

Barbados, Tobago, Jamaica, Fun
Songs, Soca, Sand, Surf and Sun
Float To The Bar, in Another Run
Frozen Daiquiri, Screwdrivers, Coke and Rum

Xylophone, Steel Guitar, Cymbals, Steel Drums
Almost, Made Us, Want To Be Beach Bums
When Asked, Were We Happy, We Did Come ? …
… Yeah Mon,   Yeah Mon,   Yeah Mon,   Yeah Mon !


Details | I do not know? | |

The Hurt That I Often Feel

Yesterday, I thought I seen the back of your head,
I felt my mind shook as I started to dread,
That you were there,
But then I realized,
It wasn't you.
As I left the airport,
I got into a truck, that was just like yours,
Then all my emotional sores started hurting again.

And later on, after seeing,
That the friend I wanted to have all to myself in high school,
Already had someone to be best friends with,
I held back my tears,
And fear that maybe I'll never recover
From these emotional issues that seem to go on forever.

And I feel like I can't keep myself together...
Especially when I see two siblings who love one another,
Wishing my siblings were close to my age,
Then I wouldn't have ever felt like I was in a lonely cage,
Envying those who get to have a younger sibling jump into their arms,
Whenever I see them at school...

She always felt like a little sister for me,
I want to protect her,
But nowadays, I don't like the way she is some times,
And I feel confused, and lonelier when I see that she
Likes her other friends more than me.
Yet again, more envy, 
And I feel guilty realizing it's wrong for me to be jealous
In friendship...

I'll make sure our friendship never ends,
But I know that my loneliness will never disappear,
And I will never be able to reappear,
In school with her again, it hurts,
Especially when I don't have someone to share the suffering
Of high school work and gym.
I still feel hurt and sad, everything in elementary,
That made me glad will be pushed away,

And I'll probably feel alone everyday...
Just like the old days, when I cried at night...
And my alarm clock was my nightlight...
Now I need Him, to keep me safe,
And be my light,
Because the hurt that I often feel
Is an inner fight for life!


Details | Light Poetry | |

ADDICTED TO YOU by Collice Rodrigues

I wish to breathe my last breath in your arms

You’re the one to kill me with your charms

Everybody coaxed me to avoid you but no

You’re that someone who I just can’t let go

 

This world is cruel it has always made me cry

You take me to heaven and teach me to fly

You taught me how to deal with my pain

Without you barren would my life remain

 

You take me to a different world as I hallucinate

And all the pleasures of life you begin to recreate

I’m losing my senses someone tell me who am I

I know I need you but I don’t know why

 

Your absence makes me restless it’s you I need

I am an addict and you are marijuana my weed

I got addicted to you that I intentionally chose

Now that I’m addicted I don’t mind an overdose

 

-Collice Rodrigues

11/11/2010


Details | Free verse | |

Resting place of Mary Jane

Mary Jane was barely sixteen
When they locked her away
For talking very strangely
They readily declared that
she had lost her mind
This so called safe keeping place
Turned into her secret grave
Ninety seven years ago
This sad tale played out
Yet this sixteen year old child
still sadly roams in this place
This dark dreaded asylum
still hears her wailing voice
In the silence of the night
You might still catch her sight
Moving from room to room
Lost in an asylum of
Quantum and space


 Nalanti Goosen©2012 
 All rights reserved


Details | Rispetto | |

Month Long Party

All events planned in the special month of May
I look forward to your parties that you’ll do
Many being illuminated today
Every day a party is just for you

Welcome to your grandiose bash that you’ll have
You will dance for so long you will hurt your calves
That festivity you will be so admired
Proudly you will certainly find yourself sired

Russell Sivey

Entrant into Linda-Marie The Sweetheart of P.S.'s ""MAY MAGIC"" contest

4/15/2012


Details | Imagism | |

@#**!MANIAC@#***!!!

I came face to face with a basket case
and yet stayed in place despite wanting to step back a pace.
His eyes glowed with a blue as cold as ice
and i did not move for fear of the price.
I stood my ground not making a sound
 as he did the same not looking around only staring me down.
So i spoke,comming to a choke
and as silence was broke his lips mocked mine as to joke.
No more i stated as i assesed and contemplaited,
nor did he as he patiently waited.
Deciding this was a test,one to be graded,
i set to do my best or leave more jaded.

      (so i spoke yet again to my odd but familiar friend)
 I don't know what your problem might be
as you stand there and stare.
 Trying to look so frightening,
i hope you're aware that i am not scared.
      (His lips yet again repeated the god awful sin)

He mocked sankronizingly every word i had said.
I shouted,don't patronize me and don't try to get in my head!
Yet once again,he mouthed what i had sang.
I sprang with a blow that landed in a bang.
I began to weep at what i discovered through my tears,
for the blood of my knuckles covered a broken mirror.


Details | Free verse | |

I'LL SMILE 4 U

Stroll through the Illest Empire
So much heat feeling like we’re living in the fire
But we’re living under fire
Tell me how many shots must it take before my loved ones are crying at my own wake
Its time for a break from sad eyes I’ve seen grown men cry
It hurts to tell a loved one good-bye
It’s the same reason why they died
Hearts just too full of pride
Mothers praying their young’n wont be a victim of a homicide
Too many drive-bys blood shed for a block you really can’t call mine
Wishing we could turn back time
High off of nickels’ and dimes
Making moves to boost your grind looking for hope
But the hustle got us in a head choke
Don’t blame me for acting crazy cause this how the streets made me and you
To watch our back and throw bows and cuss
Cause you got to be tough when times are rough
I know your asking when will enough be enough
And truth is I don’t know but this is how it goes down
But if I make it out will you smile for me now

So many families struggling with poverty
I don’t judge cause that use to be me
Watching mom come home late
Barley any food on our plate
So young and life we already hate
Praying God bring us something great
My clothes were cheap imitates and kids called you on them for being fake
Knowing mom bust her ass to provide
But all your knock offs you begin to hide
Ashamed of what you own
I know how you feel I been there too
I see mothers walking there kids to school
And the walk is far when you cant afford a car
Mom hoping one day you’ll be a star
I know about being next to poor
Your local neighborhood liquor market is your grocery store
Wishing you didn’t have to go through that living off of food stamps
Cube the neighborhood is a trap but we’ll all be free
So smile for you and me

Even 2pac said smile for me
This isn’t how its always going to be unless you let it be
In our different way we’re all a G
Cause we’re trying to make it straight legit
Whatever your hustle never quit but don’t lose yourself in it
Cause you still got a long ways to go
Still got a long time to grow
Use what you know to get by or you wont survive
Remember to always keep your dreams alive
Whatever it is just do it and never try
The limit is the sky so keep your heads held high
And when you come to a hard road just always know nothing can keep you down
You’ll be able to come back around
So give yourself a chance
And I’ll smile for you now

JUNE ‘06
B.K.M.jr


Details | Ode | |

as quiet as he ever was

tightrope typography; 
the arbitrary doyens of 
fallacious complexion… 
perpetually soaked 
in gin perked rum… 
inelegantly smeared 
across glass bled eyes… 
purely out of interest… 

the bluish flaccid
moonlit regatta;
whistled and sold…
whistled and cleansed…
privy to atonal acronyms 
and consummated progress…
as quiet as he ever was…
purely out of interest… 
 


Details | Lyric | |

More Doors

I must sit down and turn around
 be mindful as I sit,
 
the reason you can't see my face
 is it's covered with your spit!
 
This gravy-train is quite insane
 I chew my food real good;
 
I have a way of saying things
 but I'm so, misunderstood!
 
It's alright, I'll be polite
 and say what's on my mind;
 
if negatives breed negatives
 I'll be the other kind.
 
With borrowed soap, I can't lose hope
 and air my cares outside;
 
if the time's not right and at this height,
 it'll be impossible to hide!
 
Tweedle-dee, and tweedle-dum
 no worries in the rain;
 
all my good and bad times
 end up going down the drain.
 
Seems to me my final plea
 won't say as much as yours;
 
my journey's almost over
 while you've still a lot more doors !


Details | Free verse | |

The gentleman

The world turns 
under the kick-me-off shoes 
of a man in summer-rolled, khaki pants 
and turned up sleeves 
that allow gentle 
hands to settle 
in pockets with no money 
Hands that pass through disheveled hair 
to rest below a well worn smile 
on the only shadow of his day. . . 

. . .his chin


Details | Free verse | |

Strange No more

Strange No more

Life is great when the world 
remain strange 
no more

Journey is great when the destination
remain strange 
no more

love is great when the trust 
remains strange 
no more

Bond is great when relations
remain strange 
no More

Smiles is great when hearts
remain strange 
No more

reality is great when the truth 
remain strange 
no more

words are great when the meaning 
remain strange 
no more.


 20-06-2011 


Inspired by a New Friend....


Details | Enclosed Rhyme | |

Ages of Time

Who should ever know, ages of time forgotten last?
They should grab hold, for new is never first.
Gentle good memories fade, bad ones burst.
Ones life gathers things, flown from past.


We shelter time sold, wishing ahead so quick.
Instead should cherish, moments that quake.
Passing time more swiftly, a large mistake,
Days of week, foregone to weekends flick.

Each week, churns onward, toward months end.
No more justification, new does begin.
Each time we rush, our faces lose another grin.
Transfixing years that expedite, fleeting send.


Ages of time forgotten, who should ever know?
First, grab each day, for what it brings so new.
Burst free from bad, so they will fade too.
Gather from past, what is rich with glow.


Written for

Sponsor Barbara Gorelick 
Contest Name Once Upon A "Time 


Details | Couplet | |

It's The Beauty Inside That Counts

Beautiful people
Under God's steeple

Just reach out
Stomp Holler Shout

Let one know
They're Loved So

Inspirations Aspirations
Show Em Representation

Tell Em their doing a great job
Never call them a big fat slob

Lend them your ear
Help wipe their tears

Illuminate their thoughts
Help them with their sought

Open new doors
Let less fortunate sleep on maple floors

Spare a dime
For you commuted no crime

Break bread if you must
For in God we trust

So beautiful people shine on
Come join all in this Heavenly bond







Details | Personification | |

Mother Star

I am aimed and directed for a shooting star.
In the midst of a collision I am traveling far.
 
Nothing can stop me for I am on a lifelong mission.
I’m timing the clocks and gaining some recognition.
 
I am in and out of reality stumbling onto a delusion.
Sometimes I want to run free and go into seclusion.
 
The wind tries to hinder me so I shew it to go away.
I stand on the Moon and make the Sun arise a new day.
 
I am looking down at a world that is misunderstood.
If I could have I would have and then again I should.
 
But that is neither here nor there so I will fair.
I have accumulated a bit and have much to share.
 
However, there is a cornerstone one can get stuck.
One must find the mother Star and hope for lady luck.
 
Once you find it you will be well on your way,
You’ll rise with the Sun and be brighter each day.
 
 
 
© Copyright: Ann Rich   2006


Details | Epic | |

Living Her Life

She sees the pains,
Which her native folk have gained.
She changed from a little girl
To someone who has always had the potential
To change her own little personal inner world.
As a child she never went through
What some other children of her people
Had went through themselves.

She used to never knew how the roots
Of all her people’s issues
Were and are so controversial.
Blessed was she, as a very young child,
For not knowing fully all the reasons why.

Blessed that she is and will always be
Full of feeling, and always quietly wondering “Why?”, 
Now she is filled with new knowledge and a developing sense of wisdom 
Within her own individual mind.
She is now what she had always
Envisioned and imagined before, since her elementary days.
She is (“I am...”) not entirely that same little girl anymore.
She is now one of the many of that particular kind.

Within her imagination is a longed 
Wanting of finally revealing 
The truths she has discovered and
How her people must change for the better.
Throughout her whole life, which she’s lived through so far,
She maintains a heart filled with feelings, 
A mind filled with knowledge
And a slight emotional immaturity as representation
That her inner child self is still alive on the inside.

Her inner and past child self (who was different from all the rest,
But was also similar to them when at their best).
Never truly knew how far she’d come in life.
(As of right now and forever into the future)
How she has grown and maintained herself
Is how she had made that (her) inner voice in her head and 
Had also long ago already acknowledged her true self.

She still stands in her own believing faith and faith in herself
And her lack of prejudice is what makes her naive thinking
Make her own days in her life far brighter than what others say
As they discourage her from doing 
Or trying to pursue something grand and part of a divine plan.
Even after times and tribulations involving doubting tremble.

Blessed she is for being so whole in her own presumed thoughts,
Blessed she is for logical thinking based on emotion and feelings.
Blessed she will always be, for Christ himself said to a woman
(who was suffering from something for more than 12 years), 
“Your faith is what made you whole.”
Now she thinks...
“Grateful and blessed I am, to the point of tears of joy and sorrow of how I used to doubt.
I now forever know what my life will be like beyond tomorrow.”


Details | Haiku | |

Martial Dances

We live in strange times, my brother 
men make money 
with war dances 
and occupation... 
Do you not see the bombardments 
and the pillaging? 
Under the boot 
you are worn out, 
these days 
the sweat of your brow 
no longer serves you! 
Tanks come from distant lands 
passing down your streets 
demanding to know 
why you were born! 
And you can say nothing. 
Soon, if this continues, 
it will be the course of progress 
to be denied learning. 
One speaks of the rights of man 
here and there. 
Do not believe those rumors! 
You see that nothing is in place now! 
We live in strange times my brother, 
arms dealing, 
construction 
governing the land. 
Is it so difficult to understand? 
They sell the merchandise of war! 
Come listen to my counsel. 
Don't marry, it is unsupportable 
to suffer the massacre of your children. 
The success of your affairs depends 
on producing fictitious enemies 
to menace... 
In this manner 
they take over small countries 
one after the other 
under the pretext of saving them. 
While you fight amongst yourselves 
others consume your underground resources. 
What should I tell you; 
do these times plant sorrow 
in your hearts? 
Be a little understanding! 
Increase the number of fratricidal wars, 
divide your people further 
to make the lives of the invaders easier. 
Do not forget that to destroy love 
requires only this: 
Live in a society without love 
and don't educate anyone... 
Live in the clarity of obscurity, 
depend only on yourself! 
The sun rises and sets on time... 
the throats of cocks are cut 
that sing before the hour! 
We live in strange times my brother, 
men make money with war dances 
and occupation... 
Do you not see the bombardments 
and the pillaging? 

By Uzeyir Lokman CAYCI 
Paris - 17.03.2003 
Traduit par by Yakup YURT en français 
French free verse translated into English free verse 
by Joneve McCormick - 2003


Details | Free verse | |

a few minutes

and everyday
tells me
that everyday
is trying to break through
every day that’s about to be tomorrow
has its sorrow
caught up in the crowds
people were meant to meet
greet 
each other with each others’ day
only takes two to stop and see it that way
only takes a few minutes to make sense of hours
only a few days to weekly month up a year
the sun shows up and down
gives us all another round
to finally say what we heart
all the energy spent
wasted only if the lips don’t part


Details | Free verse | |

Killer Girls and Flesh Eating Zombies

My head feels like it has a lava lamp inside
The skull has a long crack going across the front

I think it’s time to rotate the winter Mucha
Slide up the spring beauty with her berries and birds

Tis the season for old fashioned double features
Killer girls and flesh eating zombies rule this year

Sucking the crystal geyser for all it is worth
The pole humping, lap dancing nemesis at play

Think I’ll drop some winter pounds and grow a new tan
Feed my birdies and then the melodies will come

Make my life sound thrilling with my ukulele
While I pour down those Beefeater gin and tonics

I’ll collect pie birds and light incense each day
While praying for a zoftig desperate housewife 

Change my religion back to innocent pagan
Shed all this Christian guilt like a well worn condom

I’ll hang Wiccan twig men in the lush green forest
And read about the Peloponnesian war years

Polish my ceramic frogs for the porch display
Then ship my old video tapes to my momma

Install some buckhorns on the hog for back relief
And turn fifty with a big four twenty bong hit

I’ll drop in just to ask question and make one think
Then listen to baseball while hammering fine nails

Grow some fat tomatoes in hanging flower pots
Number my candles with secret hieroglyphics

Yes, my head will crack open like a rotten egg
Then the healing will begin, and the world will turn


Details | Prose Poetry | |

SMALL TOWN MEMORIES

Swimming in an outdoor pool, 
drinking from  a fountain,cool;

Swings and slides in childish fun ,
summer picnics in the sun;

A Sunday Brassband trumpet call,
in open spaces enjoyed by all;

Bowls and putting on the green,
in the Vale Park 'the 'place to be seen;

Leisurely strolls and chat,
forties style,now so very 'old hat'.


Details | Narrative | |

Another Saturday night with her friends

Where the floor meets the wall,
She stands in her usual spot,
Craving a cigarette,
Observing, processing, psycho-analyzing,
Another Saturday night with her friends.

Their forced civilized exchange of small talk, 
Boasting, intellectual competitions and back handed compliments
Vainly covers the tension of secret love triangles,
Unspoken resentments, jealousies, and
Bruised egos until the alcohol takes effect and
 people start going to the bathroom in groups.

That is when someone puts on jazz album,
And suggests a game which
brings out the "realness" in everyone:
They tell stories, make confessions,
Share moments of tenderness before
Declaring war
Shattering several expensive wine glasses and 
Dissolving into fits of hysterical laughter or sobbing
Until
a fight is taken outside 
a couple is having sex in the basement, 
 and someone is vomiting  in the kitchen waste basket.

Except her,
Lightly buzzed by some cheap white box wine,
She will  comfort and offer sage advice to
the  histrionic  and  the clueless
which they will soon forget or dismiss.
Refill the pretzel and chip bowels,
Break up a fight between two romantic rivals,
Pour countless whiskey shots and shake 20 mean Vodka martinis, 
Nurse the drunk and clean up the mess in the kitchen.

Years from now, these alleged group of friends will
Rewrite this night filled with fun and merriment 
Where the drinks, drugs and conversation flowed,
and the fire never died,

While she will accurately recall every detail and wonder
Why she allowed this group of sparkling, beautiful, broken  people 
To cast her as their resident 
Gopher
Maid
Bartender
Unpaid therapist
 Keeper of secrets
Enabler…
 
What was her incentive or her reward?
Beyond their peripheral acceptance.


Details | Blank verse | |

Absence

A tune echoes from a room.
Makes me think of them and I.
Absence, my aggrieve.

A tune plays from a room.
Makes me think of him and I.
Absence, my yearning is against.

A tune heard from a room.
Makes me think of me.
Absence of my happiness.


Details | Haiku | |

REUNION [Haiku 4]

Twenty years on, school.
faces same, attitudes and egos change
dissapointed why?


Details | Free verse | |

jump rope

there’s a curve 
at the end of every sidewalk 
did you know every block’s 
measured by the lazy way a rope
skips and ponytails itself down its own street?
my, how my rope bends
alongside that straight line
six inches above what you call a ‘curb’ under my knees
falling and rising under my feet


Details | Fibonacci | |

Whistle While You Work

when
when
I first 
stared at this
woman rocking
I wanted to start whistling






James Abbot McNeill Whistler
Whistler's Mother  { 1871 }  Wikipedia



Also Brians Strand's Entry 
Sequence Fibonacci Imagist Contest


Details | Light Poetry | |

' The Poets' Day, At The Beach ... '

The  Men, Rolled In … Like Ocean Waves
The Women, Splashed and Sprayed and Splayed
And Laughed and Cried In Salty, Foam-Crests
In Liquid-Blue, Up To Our Breasts …
On Bright, Shine Afternoons …
Or In Fog, Floating In From Coasts, Subdued

And The Men Rolled In … Like Ocean Waves
Playing and Surging, Roaring Out Praise
Buoyed High, Bobbing Up and Down
So Quick, So Strong, The Men Swam …
And Women, Wet in Swimsuits
Carried Away Corals and Seashells, As Loot

Putting Them To Our Ears, Everyday
To Hear What Echoes of Sea, Had To Say
And On Soft, Crystal Sand, Pearls, We Did Lay
As The Men, Rolled In … Like Ocean Waves …


Details | I do not know? | |

Smiles

The smiles have long since passed
I know the worlds so vast
My life before me goes
And withers like a rose
I never know the truth
From all their lies uncouth
For all that I could see
Came crashing down on me
The foolishness of youth
Has led me off of truth
And now all that I find
Is ever most unkind
I know the worlds so vast
The smiles have long since passed


Details | I do not know? | |

Underneath the Stars

Underneath the stars we forget who we are
We lie so deep in the rich grass that consumes us
Our bodies becoming one with nature's carpet
Watching the stars above 
We are overcome with love

Distances between us
I on one patch of grass
You, distantly at another
Watching it in our separate places
It's how we stay close to each other 

A full moon rises the water in our bodies
A tear couldn't possibly fall
In this moment I am one with nature
Yet forever I am one with you 


Details | Ballad | |

NO OTHER THOUGHT FOR ESCAPE

An infamous thief
lived a restless life,
looking out for those
vigilant, shrewd cops;
his crafty hands pulling out
those tools out of the box,
to feed that ego so imprudent:
would he never be caught...
when his instincts coudn't predict?

Escorted to the court-room, 
in hand-cuffs and chains,
he faces the harshest judge
of the In-God-We-Trust-Country...
a female judge who's fair but firm,
and yet so unsympathetically angry;
and she like a fearless preacher warns,
" Whoever thinks has a right
to steal, rob, kill or disturb the peace...
must be punished accordingly to the crime! "

All he wanted was an easy flow of money,
dirty money without a trace of sweat;
and he acted like the richest man of the county...
flashing it around and feeling great!
Did he ever foresee an end to that bliss,
how could he not be harmed by his own mischief?

In the coldest cell, he sits on the sheetless bed...
frowning upon an unsuccessful scheme:
if he were able to bend each bar with those hands,
unlock each door and sprint to freedom...
it would be the end of his loneliness and boredom;
but when reality sets in, he returns to being sad!    

Years and many more years without a voice...
he will spend writing letters to his family,
missing out on holidays and birthdays...
repenting of his greedy and wicked ways
and allowing no other thought for escape;
pain, isolation and tolerance within those walls...
will teach the hardest lesson for his sake:
to make good choices and overcome his misery!!
    

    
  


Details | Free verse | |

You Must Set Yourself On Fire

A thousand midnights tread,
Highwire circus acts
Traversing the lavender Horizon-crease;

I memorize such sudden perforations,
Keep them under my swollen tongue
Only to purge them gracelessly
Back into your fist.
Replace my stumbling almost-words
With vastness:
A self-induced universe freckled by
Cauterized cigarette burn stars
And half empty beer cans.

I fill my lungs with feral smog,
You fill your head with smoke;
My nose trickles blood freely.

And if it was not for such ongoing facades--
Psuedointelect, rabid romances,
My world on unstable axis--
We might have,
By now,
Enshrined our Hearts in plaster molds,
Traded our eyes for seaglass pebbles.

The cherry blossoms have yet to bloom under
This hemisphere of the city:
Bare branches claw against dusk
and, in masochistic frost,

You burn your fingerprints into
My back.



"You Must Set Yourself on Fire"
Jenna-Nichole Conrad
Wordsmith


Details | Rhyme | |

Beyond The Looking Glass

Though I clearly see
Paralleling traits
Corresponding facets
Astonishingly quaint

This complex, albeit moving
Prominent connection
Holds a minute blemish
Worthy of reflection

Contrast, yes there’s one
A distinction can be drawn
For you’re rarely right
While I’m never wrong!

Allow me, if you will
Just one final venture
Aside the playful banter
This afterthought, don’t censure

 Of different roles, diverse tasks
On dispersed, divided paths
Thoughts are firmly fused
Beneath our layered masks

Yes, beyond the looking glass
Lies mystic, certain likeness 
Disengaged, detached
Yet baring sharp resemblance

A vision all-consuming
So strikingly familiar
Is seemingly my own
Essence fiercely mirrored

Copyright © 2012 Camille Rose Castillo


Details | Verse | |

Buttered Toast And Trains

His dreams of buttered toast and trains became
  Beleaguered by town-planners and architectural sharks
Who erected on his green and pleasant visions
  The blight of sunless tower blocks and concrete parks.
Once bicycles and potting sheds held blissful sway
  In country lanes and gardens swarmed with bloom,
Replaced by streams of motorised invaders,
  In place of lawns - hot tubs and decking loom.

His chronicles of defiance ring like warning bells from
  Small quaint churches in his rhyming pages,
Across the village greens and through the cobbled streets
  Down the passages of post colonial ages.
The words of such gentility and slowly dying culture,
  Sandwiches of cucumber and egg and cress for tea,
Earl Grey poured from china pots, sugar lumps in silver bowls,
  Croquet hoops and endless sun and sweet austerity.

That world, though semi-fabled, seems ever more unreal,
  And images he drew upon are all that now remains,
To teach us of a man who lived and then outlived his time
  With his marvelled dreams of buttered toast and trains.


Details | Blank verse | |

Get Told

I've had to grow up
and down and back again,
but its nice hearing
the new that everyone knows.
You can never be too old,
especially when you still get told.


Details | Didactic | |

World peace ?

 Has there ever been world peace?
 This question lies faintly on my mind
 Would there ever be world peace?
 Different question of the same kind

 Since an angel has been thrown down from heaven
 Earth will never know no tranquility
 The prophets tried but they could not make peace even
 Peace will come unless Cain and Abel will shake hands in comformity
 
 The fifty stars will never agree with some moon and stars
 The sane sex will want to procreate
 A person wants to die and he turns other people into carcass
 A group of people will want to destroy what they cannot create

 Maybe that is why water turns to bomb
 Breeze turns to bulldozer
 And earth starts to swallow till it turns to a tomb
 We don't know the one to come later 
 
 Some leaders will want to break Nyadema's record
 Some will obtain the money there children can never earn
 The hungry and jobless masses will then rise in discord
 If the fail they will wait for death to take away the vaillian

 Religion  is a good agent of  peace
 Two religions should bring double peace and not war
 We should not treat peace like a piece of cheese
 We all should make sure that peace exists were ever we tour.


Details | I do not know? | |

I Love You All

I love how you were my first friend
Right after I came into this world.
I love how you and I had fun
Until the end of our little childhood.

I love how you were another I’ve met,
Everything was good in those summers.
I love how you were like a brother,
Had often traveled to your home and we played.

I love how you were my second friend,
Someone who and I imagined together and communicated.
I love how you would allow me to come over,
And to even let me eat there for dinner.

I love how you were some other pal,
We enjoyed the company of each other.
I love how you and I were so young,
It was almost as if I were your role model.

I love how you were my third friend,
Truly was something wonderful we had.
I love how our bond once was,
Though no longer am I at all sad.

I love how you were all those cousins of mine
Were all young alongside me.
I love how you all made me feel happy,
Back in those days of my child identity.

I love how you were my fourth friend
Right after I reached out to yourself.
I love how I knew you at first seemed as lonely,
No matter how far apart, we have those memories.

I love how you were both born, my siblings.
Prayed for your births: to me that’s how it had to be.
I love how you turned to me for comfort and sleep,
Will always be there to care for you.

I love how you were my fifth friend,
Claimed to free me from what I’ve fought for so long.
I love how you gave me what I’ve sought,
Such fleeting evenings: our moments captivated me.

I love how you were all new people to talk to,
Every conversation helped me become who I am today.
I love how that no matter how I feel, I’m not alone,
Forever grateful for having others to talk to.

I love how you were all my other good buddies,
No life should be without friendly acquaintances.
I love how some of you are close to being my best friends,
You’re worth spending times with.

I love how you, my parents and grandparents,
Were there on my birthday: the sky was clear, sunshine.
I love how you, my family and friends,
Are all people I know and have raised me.

I love how there’s a number of people
I’ve known within my lifetime.
I love how there are those
Who still see me as I was and always will be.

I love how these people
Influenced parts of my personality.
I love how that no matter how I feel,
All those years were real.

I love how you all were there, but I feel alone now.
Every day’s not the same as it used to be.
I love how you’re also always around,
But now I’m strong enough to perceive even change...


Details | Ballad | |

WATERBURY'S PAST GLORY

Old Brass City
with massive gothic chuches,
abandoned rail-roads
and run-down factories...
we still glimpse into that bygone glory
which made your name so famous!

O Waterbury, no Christmas 
can be compared to yours,
when Main Street glitters under the fluffy snow
and everyone hummers a carol!
O Waterbury, those starry nights
are too surreal and make lovers fantasize!

Old Brass City,in ninenteen-forty-two
lads and gals were sent to war to fight the Cruel,
and mothers cried as their sons and daughters
left this once-happy-town of friendly and kind folks!
And despite all the sorrow and pain yet to be,
they proudly marched off to defeat the enemy!

O Waterbury, your monuments inspire hope,
and remind all of your past glory and leadership;
and the brave soldiers who sacrificed all...
became those heroes we've engraved into the soul!
Some returned, many died to seal their fate,
and their courage and valour put an end to all hate!


Details | Blank verse | |

Still My Friend

You’re still my friend,
No matter how long it’s been.
You’ll always be a friend,
One who matters to the very end.

You were my friend,
For I remember you from back then.
You are my friend,
Now that you’re here again.

You’re a friend of mine,
One who makes things fine.
You are a friend I’ll always remember,
No matter where and when.


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Shadow and Light

(Written in response to the poem “Black and White.”)


Over age 40? Here’s some truth from the new generation.


Don’t get me wrong,
I love those old shows.
Classics for long 
All that and more. 
But if I may speak a while.
Sir, sit down and please don’t be sore, 
And don’t view me as a child.


The shows of old are lovely and dear.
So simple and sweet 
Parents needn’t be ware
Of the bad things and screams 
They never harmed any babes, those old TVs.
But something’s not right
The black and the white lied you see.


The loving families of “Father Knows Best”
The eyes of “Lassie,” brilliant and true
They are no different from the mess
On our high definition color surround
The only difference, the only thing
Is that you never got to see
What went on behind the scenes.


Violence and hate survived in black.
Lies and deceit thrived in white.
Let me tell you why you really want the old shows back.
The simplicity and the friendly smiles 
Were all painted on with a poor painter’s brush.
The breakfasts, the perfection, the people’s damn reactions!
All you want back to feel safe when you have the truth crushed. 


The world is no different now from then.
The only difference is
Now we can zoom in. 
Into the faces to see the lines
The living color reveals
The lies all of the “great actors’” eyes. 
The fake and the phony 
Is what you truly love, you asses.
You’ve known all along that the world never changed
Only plucked from your nose those rose-colored-glasses.


Let me tell you something, if I may.
The black and the white that you love so
Is the reason the under 40s are screwed up today.
The God they trusted as they slept in their separate beds
Is the one so many of us defy when your lies about Him were seen in color.


But now we know there are bad guys who DO win fights
And so we’ve learned to hold one another
At night when we know promises CAN be broken
The wind will CUSS from somewhere cold
And some NEVER will NEED vows
For the one they hold to know they love them.
Even though we NEVER fully knew wrong from right.
At least now we’re not hiding beneath the Black
And that White. 


Details | Haiku | |

Super Bowl Blues

Packers--green, gold, white
Steelers--black, gold, white--colors 
just as close as scores

game ends--exhausted
bloated, eyes strained, throat hurt--sleep;
morning--traffic jam

sportscasters recap--
winners, losers, interviews;
at work now--bowl blues


Details | Rhyme | |

Hindsight

Yes I want to be creative, I really want to make my mark,
I need to leave my indent like the bite of a great white shark.
I'm sick not being noticed, fed up with going unseen,
just one more of all of those who never, ever have been.

There must be more to my being here, the reason I breathe and think,
it can't all be down to waiting for the next time we have a drink.
No this life should not be wasted, you only get one shot,
and you should use oh so carefully, the ammunition that you've got.

I know that when I was young I had a natural bent,
for creating things artistically, but that would not pay the rent.
So I did what I did not want to do and joined the rats at play,
and jumped on to their treadmill for eight hours every day.

And now so many years have passed, and my treading carries on,
but I've never found my Shangri La and soon I will be gone.
Without having felt the joy of making the life for which I yearned,
too late to take advantage of a lesson cruelly learned.

So be brave and strong you youngsters if you're nurturing a skill,
don't let the pressure to pay the rent drive you on to that mill,
open up your mind, and open wide your eyes,
develop those talents, and reach for the skies,
soar like an eagle, and find your own way,
and don't eat the crumbs from the trap they call pay.


Details | Haiku | |

They Have Taken Their First Steps in My Heart

The pain first took hold of my wrists
In the heart within my heart
My sweet children
Took their first steps.
Rain drips on the windows
There is that which comes
From far away
With hands in handcuffs
I do not know the day or year of humanity...

Stars shine
Thanks to drops falling from trees
The moon springs tight a trap on my pessimism
For a night...

The pain first took hold of my wrists
In the heart within my heart
My sweet children
Took their first steps.

Copyright © Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI
Bor, 18.08.1974
Traduit par by Yakup YURT en français
French free verse translated into English free verse 
by Joneve McCormick, 10.08.2005 


Details | Ballad | |

Crazy Mick

Crazy Mick the Irishman, with trademark bike and overcoat,
Wheeling his way back into town, classed as a tarnished silly goat,
His hair was long and curly; spoke words barely understood,
His manner gave impression, he's up to no flamin’ good.

Shopkeepers grew an extra eye, toward their advertised outside,
Watching Mick out on the street, as up and down he'd ride,
This man was on outcast; different to the folks they know,
A little dirty, is a vagrant, and he acts a little slow.

Mick’s first stop the butchers shop, bargained for a ‘snag’ or two,
The butcher he felt pity, threw in an extra few,
This pleased Mick no end, as he left the butchers door, 
His feast was quick and final, ate the meat been given raw.

The pub through past experience, had little time for Mick,
For beer became his nemesis, urged forward his fighting trick,
Too many times Mick’s antics, had forced him to the street,
With bloodied nose, blackened eye, always getting beat.

Compromising was the bottle sale, take half a dozen and then go,
Sit over by the railway line, and then drink them nice and slow,
Young kids without feelings, teased Mick in his toxic state,
Laughing as he chased them, for he'd stagger and gyrate.

When Mick disappeared, our town wondered where he went,
Had he found a home! Had he died! Where has his time been spent!
It seems in potato season, when the pickers were required,
Mick was slogging in the paddocks, where potato tops had died.

The 'swampy' people honoured Mick, for he had no fear of sweat,
He'd bend his back the furthest, earn't the spud farmer’s respect,
They seen a different person, than the townie’s man un-trusted,
Hard working in the hot sun, not the drunk so often busted.

Mick perished one cold winter, alone inside a pickers shack,
Long after picking season ended, so what had brought him back,
He must have known his life was ebbing, left for where he felt no shame,
Spud farmers heads bowed 'round his grave, but not one townie came.


Details | Free verse | |

A WANDERING SOUL IN EXILE

My youth was too brief
and whenever you felt distraught, 
I clutched my belief:
to give faith a defined worth;
free, but not truly liberated
as a wandering soul in exile:
reminding itself of how it inwardly bled
amid thoughts that knew no minimal dire...


Freedom has the dearest prize:
I either acclaim it with excitement,
or I lose it to that folly that destroys life;
nothing about incomprehension is an efficacious attempt,
which enriches a rebellious mind full of enmity,
but can I realize its enormity?  


A disconsolate person is a wandering soul in exile,
lacking insight and enthusiasm:   a self-evident liar  
who's never warned of terrible consequences, 
dispelling honor and truth, feeding on worthless pride: 
to disassemble what was built with enormous sacrifices;
always distrustful, arrogant and unappreciative of uprightness,
pleasing in discord and disunity to satisfy an ego 
without self-esteem to continually spread sorrow...


How can anyone fasten with cords a rightful spirit,
to enslave it and enforce a punitive silence?
A morning star is most beautiful before sunrise,
mortals are most admired when they inspire, captivate 
and show endearment in their true and endless emotions:
to evoke their past liberties that time has left intact...  
  


Details | Free verse | |

Home Sweet Home

Home Sweet Home
My childhood home
Is cherished 

Memories filled with
Silver and gold
And sometimes pure cold.

No one told me
It would go with me
Where ever I go 

When I roam from
Town to town
I carry it with me

I open the door
Each night when
I go to sleep
And dream.

I can’t shake
What I learned
And what I didn’t 
Learn inside 
My honeycomb

I can’t stop
Moaning 
About that
Home.


Details | I do not know? | |

Windows and Boxes

Then and now,
my favorite thing to do
has always been
looking through windows,
looking in boxes.

I can still recall
that day.
Ten years old,
my first Pokémon.

My friends were my Pokémon,
my emotions were calculated through damage multipliers.
It was the life.

Now, my old friends gather
dust
under my bed,
yet do not age.
But I have aged so much.

Stuck with humans present, I cry for those digital friends,
whom I could love without judgment,
whose overall reliability was a tangible number
in that Game Boy window,
where the only drama I felt
came in pixilated, perfectly perpendicular text boxes.

Humans are so flawed,
but not those Pocket Monsters,
whose margins of error were always measured
in a perfectly percentaged probability.


I know amazing people
who volunteer, serve, love.
they are deluded, imperfect.

I had a creature with low power, basic moves, and that always lost.
but It
was
perfection.


Details | Light Poetry | |

JorgeSouthKorea

This is the man that I am

No need for a detective because I have few mysteries

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

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

I hope you enjoy what you see

A South Korean English teacher by night

An avid writer by day

A helpless romantic somewhere in between

The smile and joy from my students is priceless

Seeing someone enjoy my writings is pretty rewarding as well

I feel that everything in my life is finally going well

From my writings you may find that hard to tell

Sorry I don’t write more fantasies or fables

To convey happy emotions and attract more followers

You are getting my life through my eyes

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

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

My adventures and journeys have been vast

Come with me on this ride

Together we can both be pleasantly surprised

With what I will write

This is the the man that I am



Find more of my writings and poems at jorgesouthkorea.com


Details | I do not know? | |

Forever Friends

Such friends we are,
Such friends we were.
When we were apart,
We cried, regretting
Nothing but our mistakes.
Reunited and pre-forgiven,
Friends you, me, and anybody else
Shall forever be.


Details | Ode | |

NIGHT TERRORS

THE BOOGEYMAN WILL GET YOU-LOOK OUT!!
They have said that to me ever since I was a wee boy
Lurking under the sheets,in the closet,behind one's back
Especially at night when we are susceptible to  the vivid
imaginations of our peers' taunting ravings of Unmentionable
crawlers of the dark and fright
I would not sleep with the closet door half open to fill these
frightened pupils of what may hide behind
It would scare me out of my adolescent mind,to know that something
SINISTER would come from the shadows and SCARE me to death from behind
Every little boy or girl would be so sensitive to the Boogeymen stories that their 
elders or friends would tell them,how green and deathly evil their eyes can be 
when they look back at you.Is it purely imagination or something of a twisted and 
macabre sense of humor that our brothers and sisters would like to throw back 
at us..for kicks and thrills,Halloween night terrors of unimaginable thrills
When I was younger,the Man with a Forever Grin,would like to ridicule and 
terrorize me with his Devil-may-bite smile and assistant ghosties who would play 
along for the HELL of it.
I may be a grown man now,my friend,but whenever I pop a HALLOWEEN dvd in 
my player,the mind cannot help but recollect the pictures of Night Terrors that 
forever go bump in the night where I live..
I hope the same can be said of those same Vile screamers that terrorize us in 
the first place..give them a taste of their own WICKED medicine


Details | Free verse | |

Time Misplaced

Swarthy sky slowly murders daylight,
A night when angels fly in two's,
wishes taste ten days old,
mist stays belly down, a beaten cur,
dripping its fear on dog-rose thorns.

A mausoleum of lumberjack’s debris
lies waiting to issue last rites.
An adventure for autumns final leaves,
before winters ermine gown smothers
sharp lines into soft melody.

On the boundary;
Buck-teethed fence peels summers painted innocence.
A missionary streetlight persists,
trying to enlighten heathen dark.

Throw-a-way confetti embellishes walkway,
red, white, blue psychedelic papier-mâché. 
Remnants of vows passed by part-time Christians,
gargoyles give best wishes with sarcasm smiling.

Across the asphalt gulf;
Penguin houses, huddled against artic wind,
supporting each other, damning this Devil’s night
in vacuous noises that escape their vigil.
Past mellowed inn sign whose colours
are as sallow as customers,
the willow tree stands,
becalmed in cobble loaf stones.
Fresh-carved heart, isolated like failed love.

(A thief, long ago memories slip into today;
Of common women scrubbing life from door-steps,
of coal-dust-painted men fresh from the mines.)

All mirages,
alive only in nostalgic moments and
epitaphs of friends misplaced.


Details | I do not know? | |

What Is Broken (Still Has Beauty)

What is broken,
Still shines great beauty...
Whoever or whatever that reaches the inside of me,
Is a treasure worthy enough for me to forever hold...

When night comes,
My feelings and thoughts truly unfold...
During the darkest of my hours,
I unleash my expressive powers...

While the dawn hast come,
My energized mind numbs
For only a moment,
I will wait...

The sun rises
As the deepest gates of my imagination
Flood open and bring on the waves of emotion.
Winds of hope blow away my tears...

And the inner sea, in me,
Begins to shine colours,
From the bluest of all these days,
To the grayest of my depressed ways...

These gray waters...
Change into a glow of hopeful silver...
And at long last, I let go of the past,
As this sea is painted gold by the eternal sun...

I am saddened and gladdened, here and there...
Yet, whatever is broken...
Still shines great beauty...


Details | I do not know? | |

Rocks Lament

All pale and staring at the stage…
Do you see that scar – I was there in 64…
Do you hear that sound is as good now as it was then…
Do you see the kids…
We were so young back then…
Sweet smells around the sage sends my mind back stage to a place so far away…

I wonder if the message is the same?
I wonder if the dope still has the same effect?
I wonder if that mirror is wrong?

All too few the times – all too predictable the rhymes…
Black turned grey and rock turned oldies…


Details | Blank verse | |

The Hospital Trilogy Part Three - Bedlam No More

Now hushed bleak sterile corridors
recall the cries, laughter and tears
of those once termed insane;
all is still now. 
Rooms behind forbidding windows,
shutters slam-dance lazily in the breeze;
all is empty. 
No actual cells, no straw on cruel stone floors
or padded walls,
reality is cracked linoleum and Formica;
all is quiet. 
The local Bedlam towers black,
decaying dead slumber,
etched against a red-tinged horizon. 
No movement now within the confines
of her walls,
other than upon the evenings of the
Autumnal moon, when perhaps
resonances of the past send strange
drifting spectres to walk the balconies
and pace the grey great hall,
acting out the bygone dramas of this home,
this refuge, Asylum. 
Those who would dare to 
venture here
on such tragi-comic nights would see;
but no one comes here and no one sees
and all too few care or understand,
for all that is past are now dead memories,
and all that is to follow
is the truest madness... 


Details | Free verse | |

The Pleasant Racket

That cheese and apple affect,
chaotic yells for morning
revolutionised
by the simple cup of tea.

With smiling echo's in grim passageways
of graffiti laughs,
concrete surfs
and chewing gums dalmatian.

Rackets of rain
like falling rivers
are the singing shouts of
ambient joy.


Details | Narrative | |

SCARCE HARVEST

War World II was raging over this
southern Italian town* spared by a miracle...
a deluge that suddenly occurred: 
a night of blasting sounds, of rising flames 
as American planes bombarded its buildings;
the Nazis fled to occupied Naples.
In the North, the Fascits were executed,
as the Dictator Mussolini himself was. 


The farms could not be furrowed deep and neat,
fear hung over the farmers' shoulders;
and wheat couldn't grow abundantly to make bread,
and brazen women to a distant granary they went, 
risking their lives to grind the wheat kernels;
they were no young men in town, or the older ones
who had gone to war for a concept so deceptive.
Many youngsters and soldiers were kidnapped by the Nazis, 
to be taken to Germany as prisoners of war...who would have 
challenged the Third Reich, or disobeyed?


Old women with handkerchiefs on their heads, weeping loudly
and mourning the tranquil town it once was...so lovely and happy, 
and their cry was too bitter and inconsolable to be hushed;
now, even bread was taken away from them,
damning the cruel Duce, who had betrayed them for vanity...
why did he bring prosperity to Africa, not to Italy?
Why was his ego so manipulated by Hitler's cleverness...
that he could have conquered peoples and lands?


Ruins and dead kindred...a scenery of dread and abomination,
and the lively memory of begonias on their sunny balconies 
brought a sweet nostalgia in an hour of horror and death;
and gathered among the crumbled walls, their rosaries  
recited with graceful whispers, gave them 
the strength and the courage to desperately grieve:
"Peace, o beloved peace, have you overlooked
the kindness of such humble and honorable spirits?
 

Darkness brought the silence they had sought under the glittering skies,
to hide the ugliness of the war in their gloomy shadows,
never to reveal the devastation of their town;
and with the new sun rising, hope would have been 
renewed in the sunrise's lasting glow.
They would have seen those wheat golden kernels 
bend under their heavy weight and bow.... 
and heard themselves saying," Mercy, o mercy
of our righteous God, let prosperity abound...
as the misty rain slowly comes down!"   

Southern Italian Town:  Baiano

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


Details | I do not know? | |

Moving On

I've already told you
Everything, and now I feel
That I have nothing else to bring
Out of my thoughts to you...
And gotta try,
To forget about you
And move on.
Because I am sick and tired
Of making myself cry.
All along,
My feelings have seen you as
An off and on love.
I will never think of you
As someone who was true...
I shall get rid of such a bond
I've grown to have with you...


Details | Free verse | |

Yuppie Dragons and Paper Mountains

Climb mountains! 
Slay Dragons! 
That's what I did 
When I was a kid 
Now it's too much 
All this grownup stuff 
Amalgamations 
Corporations 
Business-like murder 
          under the guise of merger 
Micro-second chattel battles 
          waged on computer panels 
Flash before my eyes 
In a plate glass high-rise 

Now 

all my mountains are made of paper, and 
all my dragons wear ties


Details | I do not know? | |

I Found You

Those nights I have cried in,
Disappeared when I put you 
Inside a special place in my mind.
No matter how far apart,
We'll always meet again at a new start.

I felt guilty for letting you go
And for letting one of my most precious friendships
Fall apart...
I felt sad on some nights,
Until you brought back out friendship's bright light.

Tears and fears have once ruled my life,
But then I found you again,
My friend...


Details | Free verse | |

Wishing You The Very Best

Three wishes
Illuminating dishes


First one
  No gun


Communication is the key


Second asking
   Sun's basking


For no light World would be cold lonely and dark


Third request
  Loves zest

After all it's what makes the world go around


Details | I do not know? | |

Fleeting Emotions

My friendship is beyond 
The clouds of loneliness.
It's beautifully bright rays
Rarely breaks through them.
When it does, my Gemini emotions
Are uplifted.
Was born on a sunny day,
Yet I experience all this raining pain
Throughout my life...
Times I now spend with friends are fleeting,
But the bonds are everlasting.


Details | I do not know? | |

Bright Blue Electricity

Bright blue electricity,
So beautiful those lights.
Shining starlight so lovely to gaze upon
When they ignite inside the cosmos.

Walk, walk in the moonlight,
Calming insight as it attracts my sense of sight.
Who knew I'd feel so free
In living my life with spirited might.

One kiss unto me.
My heart flutteringly takes flight.
Inspiring feelings 
Initiate graphite upon paper.

Wishing to again hold her tight,
To be in her life, yet fate has decided me
To continue to fight on
And to live with what's left of my lamplight.


Details | Verse | |

Interlocking antlers of stags

Steep-roofed great oak doors sheen of sheilds
Deep tombs stones shrines honoured dead
distant past creaking of rafters carved red oak
Stones in a mysterious rivers course.............
 the rush of life whirl past ancient ships
Rams skull masks crescent moons..........
deep three beat rythum of skin drums..........
 The raging seas hurled him high a wave 
crashed over him as he clung on to a piece 
of driftwood almost tearing him clean.
Majestic mountains on the horizon ...........
shimmering in a haze of heat ...................
An abundance of rain and rich fertile soil
The  peeling  of  the  bells swelled heavily
The  women's crowns   , veils and pointed
headdresses trailing fur trimmed mantles
A young knight on a white horse the squire
dropped from his perch on the ramparts.
The steward came in with a covered platter
then used a knife to shave thin slices of lime



Details | Haiku | |

Meals Make Memories

          E    E
     H    .    .    S          memories
C   .       .       .   E            made   
---------------------         together
A N D    C U R D S
---------------------               just
B   .       .       .   R            eat &
     U    .    .    E                enjoy
          R    G

(By curds, I am referring to cheese curds.)


Details | Free verse | |

Runcorn Moonlit Romance

Through the erotic alleyways
of dim set lamppost light,
smoky the figure struts on by
to catch the last bus of the night.
It's gone past eleven,
and it's down grim lucks drive,
but she'd've danced till dawn
swimming in any old dive-
Off goes the lady of liquor,
toes screeching to be a little quicker,
Her blisters cry to green sleeves 
But she daren't try paddling in hazer's heap.
And she is in presence of charm
by tweens and men offering her arm.
They serenade her beauty in heckled praise:
"Your dead fit- give us a gob-job la"
and with a hickup she giggles,
and coyly flutters her stuck on eyes.

Oh the seductive sound of chavs zipper
that to her delight moonlight flicker
gives a hint to their gift like that of the ripper.
She passes by,
oh those gentle pricks of enticement-
the serenade fading to silence,
meeting her backed against the wall.
Nervous she presses her dress to her stomach,
blushing she takes her other hand
seductively pressing it on her lips and down her throat.
He grabs her wrist and thrusts his surprise toward it,
she bows her head in submission,
taking a firm grip-
she lurches and twists.

"There you go" she legs it. 


Details | I do not know? | |

Holding a Sporting Event...

And as if...you could stand naked in front of others...
Do to all the laws...it better be important...
So this crazy thought of standing naked...any clues...
Something you missed growing up...seen something in a yard sale...
All this time...now nature calls...
If it comes down to it...how many can you get to join you...
Then you could get into the law books...how about doing a sporting event...
If your under twenty-five...it'll be new...
But the over forty crowd...is use to it...
It's nothing to see it all...It's the thrill...
Or is something more...how about a dare...
Would you dare...to show it all...
Let the world see what you've got...crazy this is not...
For to get passed the security and remove all...
That takes knowing how long the law will take to get to you...
So it important to know the law and when to run...
The second best part is how many will join you...
That just like holding a sporting event...


Details | Free verse | |

Hangover

Rat a tat tat tat
What do ya think about that

Brushing the cobwebs outta my memory
Woke up and I was all alone, except for you

Pieces of my brain all over the place
Naked with a new tattoo and an aching head

Grabbed my gear while spitting blood in the sink
My eyes not focused on your forgettable face

Taking a peek out of the curtain of your double wide trailer
While I slide in one leg and hop into my greasy jeans

My bike is sitting under a big ole maple tree
Your panties, I find in my leather jacket pocket

Watching the breath move in and out your breasts
As I slide on my leather motorcycle boots

Stopping to pat your naked tail on the bed
I run my hand through your long sweat filled hair

I drop a twenty on your dirty kitchen table
I reach in the fridge and grab the last cold beer

Pulling on my jacket and checking my watch, I stop for a smoke
Blowing smoke rings while I look at the dirt on the bottom of your feet

Stepping outside, the screen door slams
I hear you cough and shift in the bed

Stepping on the butt and straddling my bike
I look back at your window and smile

I fire up and kick her in gear
Later babe, it was fun and real

Hitting the road with the wind in my face
Shaking my head and thinking, but not real fun


Details | Sonnet | |

Desert Moon

Created, desolated, resurrected and even in reverse, 

You are a transformation under a Sun drenched day. 

Beckoned or heralded you climb above a beaming ray, 

Bristles of your hair shall glow and many are perverse. 

  

Shuffled, hurdled, corner-stoned and even immerse, 

You are a salvation upon a Mountain leading a way. 

Stripped or naked you run below an endless cache, 

Light inside of you shall outpour so all will disperse. 

  

The collectors shall find, 

Lost on a course in time, 

Many stranded or behind, 

Many with no unjust crime! 

  

Jacked up, a ripped off, a maniac or just downright a true blue loon, 

Still remaining is a red flaming shield up under a sacred desert Moon. 

  



Details | Verse | |

Funished in Chintz and Indian Sattin

Her fair gentle nature reflected parental tenderness
White wicker furniture, skillfully crafted Indian carpets
Most  acceptable  presents of  b;ue   fine bone china
We  begin  to splice  together  the useful fragments.
Meekness  and  forgiveness charactarise  a woman 
of  equal  taste and delicacy braided in  fine ribbons.
Morning  breakfast  aromas ,  activity  on  fine linen
shows  a  broken  in  the  bud youth  of gentle spirit.
Love , is  the  childish  divinity of fresh-faced youths.
Broken  voice  flames  a warm passion and desire.
Sights and sounds of a hearbeat like a drum solo 
in  a  small  town  honoured  occassion appeared
before him with tembling and terrified rose cheeks.
His voice harmony itself, twinkle in his eye, reined
his horse close to the carriage and doffed his hat.
Duty  made  passion  a  virtuous  June  wedding.
Exquisite  decorum  with exceedingly lively chatter.
Sharing  their hearts joy  in a banquet of celebration
congratulating the new couple on future happiness.


Details | Rhyme | |

Powder in the Dust

My world is so huge,
There’s just so much to see,
There’s still a lot left to explore!
There’s too much left inside to pursue!
My world just captures the depths of a higher intensity!
Oh how I want so much to have your all or more!
Oh how badly I could just give my entire world to you!
But we’re just powders in the dust sorting through all of the density!
Your world is so small.
There’s just so little to see.
It’s lost and hidden with nothing to explore!
There’s still so much left inside of you! 
Truly you want to give or take your all!
Oh how I want so badly to take you to the bottom of my very deep!
How badly I could just give you so much of my all and more!
But we’re just powders in the dust tangled in a magnetic free fall.
Our world is so enormous.
There’s never too much for us to see.
There’s always something magnificent for us to ponder or explore.
Oh how we are so very much beyond the great grand in generous!
Oh how well we fulfill our each and every genuine need!
But we’re just powder in the dust on a journey destined to take our all or more!


Details | I do not know? | |

On The Inside

When I think about them
My heart aches,
Because on the inside
I am drowning in the tide.
Is it envy or hate that I feel,
Or is it just that I yearn
For them so much.
This all takes me
To the point of colliding feelings.

I am happy that
They have friends of their own...
Yet my self-sacrifice
Doesn't seem worth it
In the end, for myself.
The thought of them hurts me.
Yet I'm not sure
If my heart is
Allowed to feel empty
And this meaningless jealousy.

Is it self-put
Or do I just truly
Desire their company...?
On the inside,
I'm not sure
How this complexity
Resides in me (in my mind).


Details | I do not know? | |

Feel Blue

Feel blue
How true
I miss you.

Feel blue
Out of hue
I wish you knew.

Feel blue
Much too soon
Away from you.

Feel blue
For too long
Without you.


Details | I do not know? | |

mother

i live like there is no tomorrow
only to find myself swallowed
i pray for for a world of peace
yet the world would rather cease

closing my eyes for the last time
i have decided to change my mind
about what is right or what is wrong
or what is poetry or just a song

silly old talk about a memory
then she walked out on me
if in it there was no truth 
why she vanish in a poof

no goodnight, i love love you
only dark skies with no blue
the stars do shine brightly
but no longer enough for me
neither are your stories


Details | I do not know? | |

Reminisce

I remember when I was verbally bullied,
I would not tell my parents or teacher 
Of what was happening.
I would only take it all in solitary stride,
I remember always feeling 
Both sad and happy in being alone.

I think about it now,
I realize the reasons why I was bullied, why
I was resentful of those who done so to me.
I realize how silly it all was as a whole. 

I notice how it seems to be my fault,
I rejected their offers for friendship.
I still think I was right,
I intuitively knew of their potential two-faced sides.

I have had friends long before then.
I unwillingly moved elsewhere 
(Away from mine friends back then).
I seem to have lost them 
For as long as I shall continue to live.
I eventually had no one 
But [one] older and [some] younger cousins.

I remember when I was my parents' only beloved little one.
I would have everything a child wanted and needed.
I realized my parents often never played with me,
I have come to feel
They were never a good refuge for my feelings anyway.

I see how I've changed from a beloved child 
To now this lonely soul.
I notice how everybody else eventually changes.
I have had good few friends 
In these passing recent years of youth.
I have taken the toll that life has had in place for me.

I reminisce it all now,
I felt so alone, still feel so alone.
I remember my pain, I remember my joys,
I still console myself alone.

I notice how everything is not the same,
I realize the happier days of my past cannot repeat.
I know even if they did then I would face it all again.
I forever now accept it all to be an essential part of me.


Details | Epigram | |

I'm No Fool

         I met a man today
Who said he's trying to help me
He wanted things to go my way
       Time he had not for me
       Things I needed to say
       If he had heard my story
Now I know, he wouldn't care anyway


Details | Free verse | |

Snapshot

Without hesitation, we
Consume youth like a pill--Watch:
The sunset crushes into the sidewalk
Spilling shadows in it's haste.
Tendrils of smoke mummify the wide open spaces
We've come to know, billowing grey,
Bitter to the senses.
Moments in passing flash white hot;
Like a scandalous midnight, the
Door is locked behind them.


Details | Senryu | |

Summer Pool

Summer Pool
Bikini time fun;
hanging ten by the cool pool,
grinning men enjoy.


Summer Season Senryu


Details | I do not know? | |

TOOTH ACHE

At midnight it's like thunder
striking my aged mind

Early morning ruins
my breakfast meals

In my work place it butt in
my daily hectic assignment

On a whole day summarily
it my day of efficiency

Oh my dentist please help,
extract this aching tooth of mine.


Details | Ballad | |

The Gypsy And The Georgio

She danced around the campfire,
As the flames reached into the night.
It was then that he walked by,
But she knew that he wasn’t right.

Maria was just a gypsy girl,
And with a georgio she fell in love.
But he did not return her affections,
And she had no help from up above.

Desperately she turned to the Devil,
She sold her family’s souls for evil things.
He turned her father into a sound box,
Her mother into a bow, four brothers into strings.

The Devil then took the six souls,
And he turned them into a violin.
Maria quickly learnt to play it well,
And the courtship of the georgio did begin.

The gorgio fell in love with her,
But the Devil had two more souls to claim.
He took Maria and her lover to Hell
And the violin fell to the ground, where it did remain.

A poor gypsy boy found it there,
He played constantly till he got a wife.
And ever since that fateful day,
It has been the musical symbol of gypsy life.


Details | Ballad | |

Luciferia I-- Cease To Exist

I sense something in her eyes that feels like tragedy She closed her heart but its dark pulse Wilts and stetchs against the wanes How many days will the passion bleed Till it subsides into the new pain We are the ones who will face the blame ''Don't you see what's infront of me, I have to face it all I know there's something wrong help is what I want but it's not what I find You're all filled with troubling lies and incoherent minds Cant you see you're strangling me with every last word There's something you don't know Lying in my heart is why you want to throw the stone'' Her raven eyes fill the silence Luciferia we cease to exist it's burning away-- all others' reliance Luciferia we cease to exist my darkly darling don't fade away Luciferia we cease to exist beware we've became their prey Luciferia we cease to exist


Details | Narrative | |

CITY BY THE SHORE

                      
                            Pristine shores, their past erased by tidal grasp
                         Summer days, diamond sand and burning solarays
                    Observant camera eyes retrieve...photographic memories
                                        Sleepless nights, city scapes, 
               Its tourists' sights from vantage heights until daybreak
      City nights, secret rites, which darkness keeps,some cities never sleep
  Souvenir photographs telltale of passions veiled by distance strangers keep
           Enticed, foreign tourists reap culture shock and natives... paradise
                                Multi-culture, t.v. hype and nostalgic tales
                    Cheap sex and narcotics, black market products sales
                                  Gather souvenirs inexpensive and rare
               Day travel here and there, no tourist sight unspared
Tried and true, even old world culture is new,  remaining modern cultural affair 
             On an ocean shore jewel lights invite, which no one dare ignore
                              Earth's grand wonder...the city by  the shore


Details | I do not know? | |

Mixed Feelings

What causes me grief
Is also what gives me relief...
A bog of tears is what makes me think
It has all disappeared,
My glasses fog because of the mist.

This thing is what causes my woe
Yet it has some truth
That makes me feel so happy...
It does not seem to understand me,
I try to tell what''s bottled up inside
And try to put it under a spell,

Even if I do, I''ll go through such inner pain again & again.
For without it or the other way,
My soul won''t live happily
Or won''t be able to change...

My days will always have colours,
For grey shall be in the night,
Because that is when my thoughts of thou take flight...
Oh it is my hate and love,
It is my grief and happiness,
It is both worthful
And worthless...
I can never decide
Because the pain will always reside.


Details | Light Poetry | |

SLOW DANCE OLD SCHOOL

there was time 
you grime
to slow music
we choose it
and dance on the wall
kissing by the water fall
its was soo soo cool
to dance to
SLOW DANCE OLD SCHOOL


Details | Free verse | |

To me...

  
I left a realm of paper streets,
My feet as sharpened pencils,
To find another full of beats,
From problems solved with wrong utensils.

The thing in life I hate the most, 
If there is hate at all,
Is that forever running fast,
Makes you forget you fall.

Sometimes we do our very best to lose an easy battle,
Just to prove to all the rest that nothing can be settled.

It pains my mind to see a lot of racism, poverty, disease and sorrow,
Mainly because, I know my heart
Expects nothing different from tomorrow.

Changing the past, present and future cannot be done in a blink, 
But we have to pay to tutor the way we act and think.

No one was borne a wit of life,
Nobody dies with all accomplished.
We are too vain and we all strive,
So all the bad still stays unpunished.

Now I sit and walk and talk and try
To find a merry thing in existence,
Which throughout uttering “Good bye!”
Stays merry without any assistance.

There is no way to say this right, so it should be just written plain,
Without adding, without fright: Is this life really lived in vain?


Details | I do not know? | |

Our Love Is Faded

Our love was fated
To be so fleeting,
Yet now it is forever faded.
I want to blame you
For letting it slip
Away from our embraceable arms
And away from our lips' second chance.
Though I do happily prance
Towards you at school,
I am unaware of what harms
You may have gone through.
I was entranced in pain,
But you could not have kept
Hidden our pleasureful shame.
I have hope for us,
Even though we're cool,
I'm secretly hoping
We can someday be the same
As before I blamed you
For both my happiness and loneliness.
You are forever
One of the best.


Details | Ballad | |

' Warriors ... The Battle Cry Song ... '

There Are Sounds of Ancient Thunders
There Are Sounds of Ancient Drummers
        Calling … Brave Warriors
         Gladiators and Warriors

And They’re Marching To The Cadence of Their Hearts’ Pounding
Marching, To The Cadence of The World’s Rage Resounding
They’re Going By The Beat of Their Heart’s Pumping
By The Steady Flow of Blood and Bloodlust, Tells Me Somethin’

               … Warriors …
         Courageous Warriors …

Chorus:

But, We’ve Seen These Men, Playing With Their Children
We’ve Seen These Sons and Their Laughter, I’m Hearing
We’ve Seen These Men, Loving Their Babies
And Tenderly Holding and Kissing Their Ladies

               … Warriors …
         Courageous Warriors …

2nd Chorus:

Oh Lord, Please Stop These Warriors’ Battle Cry
And The Battle Cry, Coming From Their Mothers and Wives
The Battle Cry, Coming From Their Little Ones’ Eyes
The Battle Cry, Coming From Warriors … When They Die

               … Warriors …
         Courageous Warriors …

Sticks and Stones, Swords, Arrows and Bombs
Lances, Knives, Hand to Hand Combat, Napalm
God Almighty, Oh, Thy Kingdom Come
Please Rescue Us, From The Kingdom of The Gun …

And Prophecy Is Marching – Listen, All Who Arms Bear
Warriors, Must Beat War Weapons Into Plowshares            ( Isa. 2: 4 )
And When War, Is No More, Then We Will Hear
All Warriors’ Battle Cry, Will Be An Amen Cheer !

              … Gentle Warriors …
            Peace-Loving, Warriors …

2nd Chorus:

Oh Lord, Please Stop These Warriors’ Battle Cry
And The Battle Cry, Coming From Their Mothers and Wives
The Battle Cry, Coming From Their Little Ones’ Eyes
The Battle Cry, Coming From A Warrior’s … Last ‘ Why ? ’

                … Warriors …
           Courageous Warriors …

How Can Flesh and Blood, Mortal-Men, Be So Fearless, I Wonder
Are They Strengthened By Duty, Love and Honor
Facing Danger, Death and Being Torn Asunder
Sacrificing All, As A Fallen Soldier …

                 … Warrior …
           Courageous Warrior …


Details | Cowboy | |

The Roy Rogers Range

Oh, I wish that this old world
Was like the Roy Rogers’ range—
Where every boy and girl
Didn’t have to view folks strange.

It used to be safe outside—
All the children could go play—
But now they worry and hide
In their homes both night and day.

Seems there’s just too many ways
That our kids can now be harmed—
They’ve missed their innocent days—
Their lives are no longer charmed. 

We played all day with no care—
Didn’t know ‘bout an upper—
Ball games left no time to spare,
Till mom’s called us to supper.

Yes, those were different times, 
When sex was not all we thought—
And news was not just more crimes—
What kind of world have we got?

I wish we could relive days
When Roy Rogers kept us straight—
Before things became a maze
Of drugs, thugs and war and hate.    

I wish we did not grow up
To a world that’s now so strange—
And death drank not of our cup,
Like on a Roy Rogers’ range. 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Flight of Fancy

We were lionhearted
We imagined bullets, pinecones
Swords, sticks
We couldn't be cut
By any sharpened edge
We were invulnerable
Our heels wrapped in Nikes
Climbing hills, Everest
No concern for when
We will talk about-
"When we were young"
Only concern
For our King's men dying
And the fair lady weeping

www.nostroviatowriting.com


Details | I do not know? | |

Given So Much

Given so much to others in my life...
Written sincerities to my friends.
Forgiveness of their mistakes and
For those who once hurt me verbally.
Many times I have generously given
A dollar to those in need of it...

No returning owe to pay, they forget,
Yet I still remain generous and gracious.
I'd give my life for all my friends
If I could and ever have such a chance.
They my friends have not been with me
For as many times as they've been with each other.

My life journey though
Is of self-reliance...
My mind is of sincerity
And generosity.
I give so much...
Even though they rarely do the same,
I continue to this strong
Sense and feeling of loyalty anyway.


Details | Light Poetry | |

' The Art Of Dancing ... ' (Part 1 of 2)

‘ The  Art  Of  Dancing… ’


Oh ! … How I Love To Dance
Why… Do I Love To Dance ? …
… it’s Rhythmic … it’s Ritual
The Body Is So Beautiful !

Oh ! … How I Love To Dance
Why … Do I Love To Dance ? …
If You’re Breathing – You Ain’t Still
Check Your Heartbeat and It Will …

Dance … Into A Fantasy
Virtual Reality
Dancing Makes Me Feel So Free
… Come and Do A Dance With Me

Dancing … is Good Exercise
Dancing … Adds A Spice to Life
Dancing … is A Natural High
You Can Do It … If You Try …

… Head, Shoulders, Legs, Feet
Get ‘em Moving to The Beat
Back, Arms, Hands, Hips
Shake, Stomp, Slide, Slip

Bend, Bop, Break, Bounce
Push, Pull, Prance, Pounce
Soul-Roll, Slow, Fast
Jump, Jiggle … All That Jazz !

Dancing … is A Form of Joy
Do It ! … Baby Girl and Boy
Keep The Music, Playing Please
Honey … Just Look At Your Knee !

When I Dance … I Come Alive !
Waltz, Cha-Cha, Swing, Jive
Circle, Square, Line, Freestyle
Tango, or Step – Side to Side

Innocent – Interaction
Expression – Satisfaction
Set-it-in Motion … You and I
… Aaw, Just Look At That Guy

Oh ! … I See You’re Moving Now !
… thought You Didn’t Know How ?
Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! … He! He! He! …
You Dance ‘bout as Good as Me ! …

Supper-Club, or in My Room
At Your House … or Under The Moon
If I Hear A Real-Good Tune …
You Will Know, I’m Dancing Soon

… Dance … Into A Fantasy
         Virtual Reality
Dancing Makes Me Feel So Free
… Come Dancing Now … With The MoonBee


Posted for:  Jared Pickett, ‘Cause I Know
       He Loves To Dance… (Smile)

                 MoonBee


Details | I do not know? | |

Tree

The tree did not ask
“Where are you from?”
And in my fatigue
I stretched out in its shade


Details | Verse | |

The sun rested on western slopes

Three storey Queen Anne  house
set  far  back  behind green yards
With far reaching sparkling  views
Profusion of flora fruit-laden vines
Chickens clucking near front gate
Polished wood with leaded glass
Double doors powdered  gauzed
Elaborate  deep  wine  wallpaper 
Delicate  face  framed  in red hair
Highlights  vermillion green  eyes
High waisted muslin gown  flows
French  words  rolled out  lyrically 
Perfumed with  blooming flowers
Clever cat buried in feather down
Favorite  spot  ancient  tree  trunk


Details | Free verse | |

rock slide

this is a time to speak
yet
no one wants to talk
i love the new news
coversation
i nearly forgot
the earth

while i was getting
my rocks 
off

so give me lung room
so give you throat room

lick my catastrophe
run my o2
out of o2

rocks off

do you lov e me?

does it spell out  a headline
that speaks volumes

allright big ... big

no one knows
that the whole thing

resembles

nothing

but a rock slide
of the brain


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Selfish employment

Once I was an alien
because of family ties
Once I was a sailor man
Told recruitment lies
Now I am a veteran
with socialized security
A part time postal carrier
With attitude and purity
I subsidize my poverty
By working for myself
In sickness and in health
I am earthbound as an autumn leaf
Blazing colors oh so brief
Twisting madly in the sun
Looking back at what's begun
listing badly misting sadly
hit a reef and come to grief
Closed up again
Just lost a friend


Details | I do not know? | |

Missing You

When I look back on all those years,
I notice that almost everything has disappeared.
You were my best friend,
And I thought we'd be that way til the end.
But thanks to my stupid mistake,
I'm not sure where I should start again.
I've been having dreams of you,
Wondering if the meanings are true.
That I love you... like a sister,
Most of the time I think of you,
Missing everything old about you.
We used to laugh hard at things,
And be together in the same classroom.
But after seperating so far away,
Our friendship seemed it was never meant to stay...
And my foolish mistake made us far more far away.
I fear that if I come to you,
I'd have to explain the truth,
That I never really wanted to accept you
After you changed.
And before, whenever someone came close to you,
I felt jealous and never wanted a friendship triangle.
I felt so close to you,
You were other things to me besides a soul sister or good friend.
Then I start to wonder if you're fine,?Without me in your life.
Well there's one thing I could say,
Is that I hope that some day,
I come and see you and be friends again.
But I don't know where to begin...
If only I can apologize,
I'm not sure why I stopped being friends...
All I can say is that I miss you...


Details | I do not know? | |

I Shall Remember

Those days were filled
With joy and singing.
Because of that;
My present days are now worth living
And smiling through.

Remember during a storm,
We've seen a rainbow
Through a window
That was part of a room
Where we pretended to have feathers
And danced around an invisible fire.

Bonds are like a rainbow;
The happiness that was shared
Eventually fades away.
Though such a bond is gone,
Another rainy day goes by
And the rainbow appears again.

So now... I'll always remember
That life is like a sea
(An ocean of memories)....
And even though "friend" has
The word "end"...
There is a "ship" in "friendship"
(Which leaves and returns).
I shall always remember such a metaphor...


Details | Blank verse | |

Memories of 'Shirley Corner' school and' Miss Ball'

The old school bell would ring out at the start of the day.
Chalk on blackboards, shirts and ties.
The school colours of green and gold.
Crowded classrooms, with very little room.

Lunchtimes were spent in classrooms,small and crampt.
No kitchen, the meals brought in.
Meals served up by Mrs May and Mrs Coles.
Dinner ladies Mrs Turner,Mrs Burd and Mrs Bolt.

Four classes, plus one held in the village hall.
My class of thirty seven, tables in long rows side by side.
Janet and John books then Peter and Jane.
Classroom Assemblies were the norm'.

The headmaster Mr Collier strict and stern.
There were very few facilities.
Mrs Bird,Mr Scott,Mrs Collier and young Mss Ball.
And Pre National Curriculum....

The children having separate playtimes.
In the tiny playground, there wasn't much room.!
Outside toilets, cold in winter.
Morning break;children drinking milk out of a bottle with a straw.

The long hot hazy summer days
sports day held in the farmers field across the way.
The three legged race and the egg and spoon.
Children running, jumping, having fun.

And then the important news...
We're soon to have a.... Brand New School !


Details | Rhyme | |

The Bohemia Beatnik Cafe

Hey,hey! It's the Bohemia Cafe!Barry and Kirra'd greet you and say
"Hi there! Pleased to meet Chai!"
Barry and Kirra they say had a crazy Cafe where musicians would
go to jam and play.
You'd go...Through the kitchen and down the secret staircase to the 
round dusty table where people 
played for hours.`
When Barry met Kirra their world revolved around the Bohemia Cafe
the story is told...
You could go there anytime to order coffee,chat and listen to Kirra
play "Gypsy Caravan"on her clarinet.
Once you bought your coffee, Kirra would never bother you to clear your
table or buy another cup.
Sometimes customers would do the dishes,and at one stage Barry's
curries were quite delicious.
Then you'd go through the kitchen,down the narrow,steep staircase
to the secret lounge room of the Bohemia Cafe.
Every Sunday night an Irish Orchestra would swarm and settle in the cafe.
and the other musicians would go downstairs to play.
On Teusday nights people would come for chess to win their quests,while
guests happily blended at their own tables.
Poetry nights were Wednesdays and occasionally  some almost famous 
poets would gather,recite and be toastmasters for the night....
Till the tension grew so thick in the smoke-filled joint,you could
cut it with a knife.
Yes, the point is...the Bohemia
was in its heyday in the 1990's.
Many an artist and poet would have
gone there.
It reminds me of what a true 
"Beatnik" cafe would've been like.

 



Details | Ballad | |

Babydoll

Trying to escape from it all I detach from reality Knowing my spirit will be Safe Too much torment have I gone through To know that this story is truly mine Cut me off no matter how much I'll always find a way To fight and survive your kingdom I'm the only thing you desire I'm the only thing you hate I'm the only thing you need I'm you little Babydoll In my mind there is a haven Only I can enter, but everyone else is there Its there I will find a new tactic To keep on living in your torment On the way home I'll die a few times But just to know I really lived I'll have to find a new way to bleed If I want to escape I'll have to loose myself Cut me off no matter how much I'll always find a way To fight and survive your kingdom I'm the only thing you desire I'm the only thing you hate I'm the only thing you need I'm you little Babydoll Cut me off no matter how much I'll always find a way To fight and survive your kingdom I'm the only thing you desire I'm the only thing you hate I'm the only thing you need I'm you little Babydoll


Details | Haiku | |

Time

Wandering through aeons,
Nothing to find,
Except the same.  


Details | Rhyme | |

Why Not

Don’t ask me why, ask my why not!
Why me? Well why not you?
Why will get you caught,
With why not there’s less to do.
Why not makes everything new.
Why is a question many have sought.
Why brings so many to I ought to naught.
With why not everything is true.

You waste time with loose energy.
Always ask why not before you ask why.
Tis a synergy!
Develops your I.
Decreasing your why,
By why not I!


Details | Lanterne | |

FORTIES PARTY

A
high tea-
eaten off
American
cloth


Details | Free verse | |

Invitation To Dance

Invitation to dance
Dance, so slowly dance
Test, touch, tease 
The toe, ball of the foot
Inviting dance floor
An invitation to dream
An invitation to dance

Come, watch,
The rhythm beat
Once – twice, repeat
From foot to leg
So gently float
Like a heartbeat
One–two
I know you
Entwined with me
A pair in step
Do glide
Supreme twist and turn
One–two, one–two

Now hear the drum, 
The cymbal beat
Beat, beat, join in 
Love’s rhythm dance
Our hormones’ vibes
Glisten in our eyes
Turned on – turned on
One–two, one-two

Our bodies bend and blend
Like lulling, repeating waves
In unison step
The beat, the move, turn,
gentle turn
Now more succinct
Now more distinct
Couples rejoice, graceful
Now getting bolder
Ra-ta-ta, ra-ta-ta
One-two, one-two

Listen, listen,
Watch, watch,
Bedazzled, amazed
The rhythm of the human race
The feel, the feet
Totally immersed
Adventurous beat
And dancing feet again

Alas, alas
The music slows
So sexy, sensual
Only the dancer knows
Slower dip, dip
And up, tip top turn
Desire, yearn
The dance of dances ends
               -


Details | Lyric | |

I Miss You, Too

You want to embrace me,
I can feel your great urge;
You want to kiss me, I know that, too.

You want to feel the warm of my lips;
You want to touch my hair, while I huddle against you;
Your yearning heart, still, beats for me.

To you, I can easily give
All of these, with great compassion and love; 
Right now, any time, for I miss you, too.

But, how can I trust you, again?
You know the reason… 
Why I left you?



Details | Lyric | |

Conflict of the Heart

Conflict of the Heart
                    By Dane Smith-Johnsen

From whence comes constant conflict, from within?
You and I would never call love a sin.
Prayers prayed; what shall be our destination? 
I felt it, the Spirit’s confirmation.
The message, loud and clear; marry Ingrid.
Safe, comfortable in your arms, my heart hid.
Marriage license bought and commitments made.
Dreams about the future carefully stayed.
Trust given, and with no reservation.
Joy grew beyond one’s imagination.
There, with you, fears of the world subsided.
Peacefulness within my soul abided.
God’s loving gift had been in my heart laid.
The gratitude felt couldn’t be repaid.
Yes, I do remember that God is kind. 
Yet, life’s eternal mate was hard to find.
Love, twisted in a vine, finally found.
The fragrant fruit burst forth; free love unbound.
Adoration, a present deep within,
Fulfilled empty places could be no sin.
Exuberating hopes burst forth each day.
Dreams engulf all reason; some say we’re gay.
There, before me in splendour you stand tall.
Love for you, hermaphrodite, shall not fall.
Despite the glaring stare that some folks give
Together, we’ll press forward, just to live.
Please look upon the good, withhold your darts.
And pray, dear friend, that hatred soon departs.
Judgement assumes its toll upon the soul.
Subsided inner conflict is love’s gold.
We’ll ask God to lift conflict from within
To help us gain respect from thoughtless men.
So let the peace begin with open hearts.
For that is where pure love taught by Christ starts.
                  
            AMEN
  

© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
   December 27, 2006

Poetic form: Lyrical-Couplets

Hermaphrodites have a complex genetic make up.  My Ingrid is the father of a beautiful 
daughter.


Details | Ode | |

Painted Over Graffiti

It's more than painted over graffiti,
The trouble with our world today.
The problem's mass is sweeping
More like a paint brush,
Used to wash wanton layers,
Time worn colours, away.

Strategic historical scholars, studied to rote,
Besmirch budding Buddhists babies,
Learning to vote by thinking.
What a novel concept!
If people would just pay attention,
The entire world could get smart.

The youth keep shouting louder,
Falling fast, far, and as hard,
As earlier generations did.
They are THE hope of our nation.
Shouting in codes their passions,
Spouting a shiznit with voices hid.

There's something wrong in this country.
It's been simmering in a brew quite a while.
The hippies got old and face graying,
While the youth now do their own thing
With a new fashioned font style.

No lessons learned,
Old leaves not even turned
To compost for human renewal.
Few values passed along the trail
Because values, then,
Weren't the popular thing,
To be in, with it, man.
Can you dig it?

There are 50-odd million Americans
Staying, saying, and swaying,
"We won't let you whitewash us away,
Like grains of sand in a rip tidal bay."

So I'll face every day on my own terms.
The representatives stand for me, too.
One must be true to his conscience
As the rest pigeonhole patriotically
Into immigrant shades of red, white, and blue.


Details | Free verse | |

Night Sounds / Night Thoughts

Endless train whistles,
At the limits of one's hearing,
Never farther away,
Seemingly never, ever nearing...

Sirens shrill screech,
At times of their own choosing,
The pulse of mountain winds,
Never gaining, never losing,

Honking winged geese,
A satire of city cabs?,
In cloud bound nature's streets,
Small planes coming and going,
In a parade of me wondering,
but, never knowing,
Where they might have come from,
And where they now are going...

Abandoned homes,
Abandoned dreams,
Stars sparkle in a
mockery of fate,
Who was the last to leave that home?
And what might have been the date?

Will bears soon be wandering
down city streets,
Perhaps shopping for a new coat?
Wild dogs in packs attacking anything?
The bray of feeding goats?

My silent snores go unappreciated now,
There's no one to say "Good Night",
The body aches, my will it strains,
I have no one to share my pains...

Empty pockets stress my hope,
It takes all my will to cope,
Where has everybody gone to?
Has everyone gone to the moon?
I await my turn to join them,
I pray it will be coming soon...

Or am I left here to guard the past?
For me to be the very last?
To witness what the fates have cast?
To experience decay first hand,
Through the hour glass's ebbing sand,
How pointless time does then stand,
Not like a full head of hair..
But a single, lone strand?

Me, the lone keeper of times no more,
As giant machines still hum busily,
No one now to know their purposes,
now or then for sure....

And now you must go too...
I wonder, I wonder,
What I will do?
Alone, books and ink,
My sole companions till
my ship does finally sink?
I eye the rifle in the corner...
Maybe the rules God will bend...
If I use it as my ticket to tranquility,
For, at least, my pain to end?

Yes, at its worst,
No more pain...
Sure it is forbidden,
But reasons to live seem to drain...
No one to say Goodnight to,
No one to say Good Morn...
No one to hear me question...
Why I was ever born...

To those who complain of pressures,
Of work, of family....
Could sit in my chair,
eyes opened...
And see what I can see...
I'd work 24 hours a day,
7 days a week,
And enjoy every responsibility,
To care for friends and family...
& work 60 hours a week,
& feel the difference,
Paycheck but a bonus,
And, see
& gain a new point of reference,
And from that very day,
You'll see the value of your life,
In a very, very, new way.





Details | Light Poetry | |

Shepherd

Shepherd, I would wallow;
had I not had you to follow
Shepherd, I was lost
earth-bound to the ground;
Shepherd I was found, 
by Grace: now safe and sound!




McCuen Copyright October 2008


Details | Free verse | |

Firecrackers

before night struck 11:00

anxiety inched one year older

in it’s timeless finesse

in classic manner strung across

the bed thinking of the rude

ness under the stairs

disregard of human privacy

thinking of throwing something

along with the celebratory toys

projected wantonly in the air

loud as ambulance sirens

murder nudged for a dance

but not tonight baby

goal tonight isn’t gettin down with 

my get down

somber gestating Soul Brother 

number one being done

hand in hand with a Dead President

if I didn’t know better tears 

would follow but he did his thang

with the promised resurrection 

on his good foot to glory 

this world won’t see the likes of him 

in this life... not twice

news covering wars

what’s right that the nations survive

another year

babies micro-waved and used for shields

molested like novice burlesque stars

smoking stale cigarettes

hopeful the next twelve

an amulet exegesis of amnesia

meanwhile marathons unified clarity prevails

settling beside ribbons...

under chandeliers of fire crackers...


all night


Details | Sonnet | |

Common Ground

Starry night, Star bright shine your light!
It’s a lost world traveling at a rapid speed.
Oh guide me and teach me to properly lead.
For I am down here where nothing is right!
 
Send me a wind to take my flight,
And let them all take heed!
I am the deepest seed.
For I stand in all my might.
 
Let the Sun shine down on me.
Let the rains walk away.
Set my eyes where they can see.
For I am day by day!
 
As the world spins around and around,
I shall be found standing on top of Common Ground!
 


Details | I do not know? | |

Please Trust Me

Nothing else
But secrets between all
Of who we are...

Thy dreams of a different love
Found within the envisions of
Betrayal, and dream of I and
A proclaimation of sending someone to their maker.

Seemingly unwilling,
To give me thy trust...
Never have I spoken
Of secrets that had
Once left you broken,
Only those relevant enough
Are whom I white-lyingly tell,
Yet not all secrets are
Ever revealed...

Trust me, otherwise
My mind shall not stop
Aching and echoing of the lies
Which once separated me
And my feelings away
From you...


Details | Ode | |

stoney mae

children threw stones
at the steel-gated doors
and ran
laughing at eyes
peeking from tattered shades
the white picket fence
seemed odd in this sub-division

ivy encircled the weather-worn frame
wrapping around the smokeless chimney
covering the dirty window panes
on the house at the corner
of sycamore and elm

her only company
was a cat named puddin
a dog named mr. krum
a parrot she tried to teach
without success
to say
"stoney mae"

dry leaves left from last year's fall
cluttered the yard
along with bottles, cans
and bits of paper
tossed absent-mindedly
by an uncaring society

she shopped early in the morning
mostly for her pets
hiding behind a large straw hat
a black wool shawl
and ragged gloves
she plucked from a neighbor's 
unwanted garbage

some called her crazy
others whispered "mad"
as they passed the shade drawn 
darkened house
that made a sunny day sad
which seemed odd
in this tiny sub-division

it was on one of these bright sunny days
the neighbors made a decision
that had had enough of stoney mae
and wanted her out 
of their quiet sub-division
standing outside of her steel-gated door
they knocked and banged
there was no answer
no sad eyes peeking from the tattered shades
someone turned the knob
pushed opened the door 
which was never locked
a foul, rancid odor escaped to the outside
neighbors pushed to see inside
holding their noses

the shade was pulled up
sunshine filled the room
mouths stjood gaped
faces filled with dismay
just underneath the window 
lay puddin and mr. krum
the parrot was perched
on the body of a woman
chanting
stoney mae! stoney mae! stoney mae!


Details | Blank verse | |

Welcoming Warm Hearth of Home

A warm comforting home environment environment adorned with
paintings, cushions,flowers, soft couches, afternoon sunlight
Streaming through laced windows breathing out cooking aromas
of chicken soup and incense fragrance of musk and lavender.
Smiles and Grandmas  hugs with milk , cookies and fresh linen.
Dainty flower prints on cotton fabrics, blue and white china teapot.
Gentle crackling of a warm fireplace curled puppy fast asleep on a rug.
Whistling kettle punctured with gentle laughter around a card table.
"Last Card!"  A guest makes a call ...until he is handed a three
"Ohhh?" He picks up three cards and everybody laughs.
Vanilla ,Chocolate and coconut wafts in from the kitchen. 
Grandma is making  her famous three-tiered chocolate torte.
Strains of Fleetwood Mac filter through from another room.
Mum has just arrived with the shopping the pup rushes exitedly.


Details | Lyric | |

Affliction

In a world
Unwanted
The two were alone
Banished by the misunderstanding.

He cried on his chest
Hush
He caressed his supple lips with his,
Why were they to be alien?

In a world 
Close minded
The world shut them out
Thinking that their love was wrong.

He ran his finger tips across
Tears
He confided in him
Lovers of the same.

In a world
Immoral
The words they always heard
Running away to take shelter.

He touched his rain dampened hair
Tremble
He listened to his heart beat
Drifting to sleep.

In a world
Cold
The hearts of the saved
What will save them from themselves?

He holds him as he's falls
Love
He's there to comfort him through the nightmares
Sleepless night.

In a world
Fire
The all burn
The apocalypse breaks through the sky.

They return to their apocalyptic romance
Calm
The hold each other 
Welcoming the chasmal sky.

In a world
Barren
There are no more daunting voices
This void is eternal.

In a love
Eternal
Their bodies are no more
Their spirits coexist, there is no more judgment.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

84

84

CharlaXFabels

BOB Newhart

Remembrandts


Eye remember two of his stories eye will relate them first the way that eye 
remember them we had a recorded message (a vinyl record) player. 

Remembrandt one: He said this is a ROBOT voice in kind of a low insistent 
monotonically dialogue. 

ROBOT: come in and sit down Human.
ROBOT: Your work has been suffering a lot lately and we are going to have to let 
you go:
This has been a recorded message.
This last was emphasized by staccato emphasis on each word he spit it out like 
a machined player. 

Remembrandt: Ants is People on the Ground
The man got on the airplane and looked out the window to the ground.
The people down there look just like ants idint it amazing.
The other airliner said Those AER ants you IDIOT we havn’t taken off yet.

Oh wow Remembrandt three: eye just remembered another one.
The Preacher and the giver the airliner and the preacher.
The man looked out at the wing and it was on fire and he began to offer up 
sacrifices to the lord LORD he said if this plane reaches the ground safely eye 
will give yew half of everything eye own.
The plane leveled off smooth and the fire on the wing went out and the plane 
landed safe.
The man was soon talking to the preacher.
He said MY good man eye heard what yew said on that plane yew said yew was 
giving half of everything yew own to the LORD and eye knoe that YEW aer gonna 
start right now? it was in the form of a question. NO preacher the man said eye 
just made HIM a better deal he said EYE told the LORD if eye ever get back on 
another one then HE can have it all.
Remembrandts of the Newhart.

http://www.rhapsody.com/bobnewhart

Copy and Past this one in search.





Details | Prose Poetry | |

3FABEL3

 3FABEL3 
3FABEL3 
 
Lynching 
 
 
Murder is an art form abused by those critters in a hurry to perform a judgement 
call and then scurry off on horses to hide from the real law. 
There is some western hearoes who still hate the Negroes and do not have 
them on the list of living beings in their repertoire of Johnny law. The rope is tied 
in the noose with thirteen winds some say a wind for every step up the gallows 
planks thirteen of them to give the thief a long time to prepare for Hell. We will 
stretch his neck we will hang him high we will send him on his journey to the sky 
they hammer on the gallows while the thief he sits in cell and cries uncertain of 
his future after that and eye suppose there should have been a preacher in all 
those western movies to come in and comfort them the brothers waiting there. In 
desert news in otherworldly tensions there is many promises given of 
conciliations taken from the left hand and given to the behind the back and then 
back to the right this is called the we will do this for you and then no of course we 
do not want to do this not at all syndrome. Also eye have noticed on this internet 
the use of ads is popping up increasing tension in the viewer designing limits on 
the use of money is the income of a prisoner soon increasing is the wealth of 
money belts investing blooming idiots are stealing more to pay for kitchen 
hardware and the laptops on the floor of the living room with HDTTV the 
SuperBowling friends were over just now Johnny Law was at the door way saying 
hey and did you let them in no you just slammed the slamming door way in the 
faces of the lawmen. 
  charlax valentine, here is a copy of the HiCard you 
sent. Since it was mailed to you, it will appear 
that you sent it to yourself. The real card was 
delivered exactly as you saw it previewed. 
The condemned man walked up the steps to the thirteenth story. 
Rope is sometimes frayed in the movies the rope breaks the thief falls to the 
grounded mound and jumps the saddle rides away into the night on horseback 
getting bullets in his gun by magic on the run then fighting back. 
The Hangging Judge in Fort Smith scared me so badly eye can never hold a gun 
in my left handed again. Besides the neck does not look good when rope is tied 
so tightly in the nooses neck. The Arizona Kid hung up his spurs the day the tree 
split into crosses from the lightning bolt surmising that his LORD was not well 
pleased with him that day the Sherriff made his play. 


Details | I do not know? | |

Fleas

My mind wanders,
drifting into that moment
Holding your beautiful frame closer to me than anyone has ever been
Absorbing every taste, touch and feeling that you gave to me
Everything fell into place as I laid with you
Not once having distant thoughts 
or the slightest shiver of boredom
Looking into your eyes showed me how different you were
I became lost in the depths as you gazed back
Everytime I held your lips to mine,
a moment I never wanted to end passed
The slow, powerful passion behind the touch
of all that was mine against all that was you
A night great enough to receive the title of "THAT NIGHT"
And That Night showed me something that I need more of in my life...
...you.


Details | Narrative | |

Just Because

Just because, 
I really thought I was!
I was coming and coming,
Holding nothing back!
I could go anywhere,
I could go running!
I came unlatched.
I just really can not compare!
Just because,
I just really knew it was!
I kept going and going,
Holding nothing back!
I went showing!
I was unlatched
I am just really glowing!
Just because,
It really was,
It was here and now!
Holding nothing back!
I go proud!
I am unlatched!
I am just really now!
Just because,
It really was!
But gone forever!
Holding nothing back!
I went clever!
I became unlatched!
I was prisoner, 
Just because 
I really was!


Details | Free verse | |

My Towm Gone

Mills and Mines, no longer there. 
No more work, no more life.They made decisions but didn't care. 
not for them the muck and grime. 
they never knew the love, in that town of mine. 
Life long friends, all are scattered. 
Ambition aand dreams, broken shattered. 
Familiar places, Friendly faces, 
Replaced by roads and mental cases. 
Destryed, Ruined, Gone forever. 
Poor old town, I'll return there never. 
What have they done? 
My town...........GONE!!


Details | Lyric | |

One Heart, Two Lives

O, Pearl of the Orient! The island
Of the islands in the Far East---
How nostalgic 
The humming wind and the sea, the sunset
And the mountains, the rice fields and the people 
The Boleros and the Jeepneys
Don’t you worry, Inay, your beauty 
Is still within me

O, Athena! The babysitter 
Of my lonely soul 
I tiptoed, like a fog, into your beloved fortress 
And sit on the ruins 
Of your pasts, daydreaming
I, the poet, crowned with rhyme and verse
And well-adorned, with pearled barong 
From the islands of the sea



Details | Free verse | |

Mr Rogers

 Mr Rogers 
Mr Rogers 
 
 
He walked normal he seemed a natural man but his voice was used he had that 
way about him a different way of talking mabe because he was on that camera or 
just because he was speaking to the children but all the people that eye knoe 
that was on the street not living in the snow they made so much fun of him they 
called him GAY.  Secretly eye liked the show and watched on PBS the thing was 
hard to understand He did some time travel thing on a train. 
Eye was blessed and transported to a distant land with the KING there and the 
women that came to visit and act. 
Wont yew be Wont yew be Wont yew be my neighbor. 
Wont ewe bee Wont ewe bee Wont ewe bee my neighbor. 
Thank you Rogers mister for a class act. 



Details | I do not know? | |

Allen Ginsberg

Allen Ginsberg
Where have you gone?
We need you in this world right now
We are frightened and alone

You were a shining light through the darkness
Through the '50's you held strong
Even though society said 
Everything about you was wrong

You were a beacon of freedom
Let your words always ring true
You will always be a hero of mine
May God always shine his light on you


Details | Prose Poetry | |

TRADITION & RITUALS

On manicured outfields seeded and sown,the middle rolled and closely 
mown.End to end,wicket to wicket the languid tempo of village cricket.By fields 
enclosed with sheep in flocks,wooden pavilions and rickety score-box.Around the 
boundary rope,ambitions ,high living in hope.Runs came from cut and glide as 
players flag in the fielding side.The rivals taking guard after tea,a run a 
minute,with inhibitions free.Hit wicket,lbw and run-out the wickets fell as the fast 
bowler ended the match in his second spell.


Details | Free verse | |

Carefree reminiscence

I remember I saw her
a sturdy grey haired 
eighty something woman
with pin point pupils
and vacant looking
coldest grey - blue eyes.
She appeared lost
and yet some fragment of sanity
rendered within.
She waddled purposely
stick in hand across the road,
to the bench next to the bus stop.
Conversing and nodding
on her approach
but there's no-one there.
I got to wondering 
if she were unhinged,
out of her mind crazy
what with hospital for such nearby.
Were she one with mental illness?
Was this a State negligence?
Maybe she was disturbed
with some cruel neurosis,
or then did she see beyond a veil
where I could not,
and be thinking 
similar thoughts of me?
Non-sensical but I recollect
how an ambulance pulled alongside.
Two got out in a hurry,
three slipped away.


Details | Free verse | |

Even Stephan

 Even Stephan     
 
 
Author Message 
Admin
Admin



Age : 53
Joined : 13 Jun 2007
Posts : 676

 Subject: Even Stephan   Today at 18:47      

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Even Stephan 

Even Stephan 

even-steven 

SYLLABICATION: e•ven-ste•ven 
PRONUNCIATION: 
v n-st v n 

ADJECTIVE: Informal 1. Having nothing due or owed on either side: an even-
steven transaction. 2. Having an equal score, as in a game or contest. 
ETYMOLOGY: even1 + the personal name Steven, used as rhyming slang. 

It is Even Steven ewe the gentile reader ewe knoe it to be true it is never even 
Maude or even Terry or even Sue. Even Steven means a lot of things let's see 
how people use it. To settle debts they make a way to call a liability no more an 
outstanding sufferance becomes the limited influenced disability please let me 
explain it this time in English. John owes the lady some and she decides to let it 
go as she will never see the dough and so she sidles up to John and she 
smiles as big as people do as she says John its Even Steven even in the rain 
come true and John is very happy now the debt is paid. A boy took his sister's 
purse open and a bill she does not say to him Oh Even William Even Tim. Even 
Steven says the sister of the happy little man and they can both play again 
forgiven them. Even Steven says this CharlaX unto his blessed ewe we are Even 
Steven on everything ewe dew. 
 
           
 
 
 Even Stephan 
 


Details | Free verse | |

The Printmaker.

Bitumen on the copper plate covers it entirely,evenly.
With a needle,she draws her picture,the point of the 
needle revealing the raw copper underneath.
This raw copper is the part that is eaten by the nitric
acid. Now,she must concentrate on the drawing,bearing in
mind the final print will be the reverse of the image she
is rendering while she carefully draws the image.
Wearing a face-mask,apron + two pairs of heavy duty gloves,
her sihouette approaches the prepared nitric chamber..


Details | Rhyme | |

Text Me A Poem (Mixed Rhyme)

It’s an old saying: no news, good news
I want you to know I love your muse
But, I do have little time to use
To peruse… and to give you my views
This is not alibi or excuse

Oh, yes dear, you are my lovely muse
Yesterday, today and tomorrow
To the whole world, I am proud to show
How happy I am that you’re my muse

Thou, I wake-up when you sleep
I read and write when you stop
Still, we are on the same map
We’re bind by love, not by clip

We are being united as one…
Many voices, different races, lots of fun
One passion, one aim, let the pen flow
For our beloved family to grow and glow

You will not see me everyday
Work causes me to stay away
I beg with a contrite heart
O, Almighty Father in heaven
Let me share the gifts you’ve given
Help me, not to fall apart

For I, under the eye of the General
Can’t do nothing, but feel like I’m on trial
When and if his, not in a bi-lateral

Poetry is uplifting…
That’s why I won’t stop writing

Just like you I want to be
A giver is all I see

Yes, clouds have silver lining
For life has its true meaning

Still, I am lonely, for I’ve only my phone

Can you text me a poem, to ease my pain? 





Details | Light Poetry | |

Jones

I am Jones.
And I write poems.
I work in my garden.
And sail my boat.

On the waters of the moat.
Windmills all around.
And canals too.
Ideal place for me and you.

Yes I'm getting on, and old.
Don't do what I am told.
I play cards and chess.
Can you guess? I cheat to win.
It's not a sin.
If done with a grin.

I am the friend of every one.
I have lived here so long.
When I go. I hope they say.
Goodbye to the English man.


Details | Ballad | |

WE ARE ONLY YOUNG ONCE...

As wrinkles become more furrowed,
and hair turns to a more visible shade
of  perfect silver to symbolize a decaying age,
we certainly ponder over death,
not too sure of what awaits us;
and an almost forgotten thought
reminds us of our lost youth:
that we are only young once...

And although we stumble
to reach a mile to our destination,
yesterday it only took a short time;
not to mention how we fumble
for the key to unlock our door and enter
into a peaceful place of wonder:
where memories still abound inside,
and carry us through without desperation...

Are we so feeble to entrust hope to a broken will, 
and not understand the grand plan? 
We can't stop half way throughout  a battle; 
we are still the warriors who can't be defeated,
and if we fall, we'll get up again: 
to push back the enemies 'till they have retreated...

To be of old age may be unacceptable
to those who look upon us with disgust,
because their minds are stripped of all pity;
to be young, indulgent and full of energy:
is something they relish in their thought,
untill they, too, must confront the inevitable....  

We are only young once to assume
the role of invincibility in a brief kingdom;
and if carelessness is pushed aside,
to let our spirit and conscience run wild:
we'll reap a bundle of  losses and regrets,
to hunt us for the rest of our unpleasant days...



Details | Free verse | |

The Rooster Of Luck

eye was a young man growing old 
eye got older somehow no one knoes how 
that rooster that used too is gone 
the bull is the gelding now 
eye started out slow and got slower 
the meadow full of corn is now plowed 
time is a concern of mine never a friend of mine only my enemy time 
So many people unkind 
So many places 
unfathomable graces 
where eye was once eye can never go back 
where is the penny for luck 
where is the family that eye should have 
where is the full bread sack 
show me the dump 
where eye can stay with my sack 
show me my luck 
  


Details | I do not know? | |

(I'm not frightened).

(I’m not frightened). 

(I’m not frightened. Barely alive…
Though I do recall my mother telling me about my birth) 

But have you seen what they do to people out there?
How they tear the flesh of screaming bones
how they feed the ground with death!
(Well… Its humans being humans. But don’t be frightened).

But have you seen the news lately?
Yesterday a man did something unspeakable to another man
and a woman said that she did what she did out of love…
(It always seems to have to do with love. Doesn’t it?
To get it or to get away from it.
Too little or too much…). 

(I don’t know…
But they like it when you cry.
They’ve been hurt too, you know.
And the sun is never new. It’s just you).

(What can I say?).

(I do appreciate my cigarette in the morning!
Every morning…
And I promise I’ll try to smile again. 
I’m sure I can make it this time!).

(And by the way…
You wouldn’t be so surprised, if you didn’t lie all the time).

(I don’t know why you lie...
And then again, perhaps I do.).



Lars Eriksen 2006,


Details | Rhyme | |

Maynilad (Mixed Rhyme)

So true, the drivers are more careful
Than the commuters who are not fool
Jeepneys and buses are always full
Than taxis, in some ways, dared to rule
Heart of Maynilad, the beautiful

City of dreamers living in her gay dream
Where aroma street-vendors have to scream
In enticing you to light another dream
While you craving for a coco ice-cream

For I really missed Maynilad
Of her sensual beauty
That I’m longing to see
Which I saw when I was a lad

Now I live in the shadows of the Gentiles
At first, I never wanted to be here
Olive trees’ leaves rustled me with godly styles
That I learned to like famous Mythos beer

But, I preferred the sweet echo 
Of San Miguel, a grand macho
Suave, even if sun not down
Blended with all kinds of fun rhyme
From peers who neither have a dime
Yet, they will not let you down

Thou I, the dreamer, admire the foreign god
Still, I will save the last breath for Maynilad
Why? It’s simply because she is in my blood

Yes, that’s what I am, by birth
Just simple man, here on earth

Coming from her maiden skirt
I promised to share my shirt

If, one day I bid you bye
O, Athena, do not cry
 
You are deeply etched in my mind

Heart and soul, thou, for Maynilad


 

 



Details | Rhyme | |

Scandalous Thoughts

A party in 1863
A girl about to wonder
A young naïve unruly thing
Scandalously ponders.

Weaving in and out of sight of contemplations weary light
A sort of fun majestic flight that sooths the hungry appetite

Allowing such a naughty thing
Would surely be a bandit
Too much fun would spoil the rules
An exercise too candid.

She sings and starts a merry dance to wondrous a circumstance
It’s miracle a dazzling trance to tempting to a rigid stance

Imagine old and grumpy men
All standing in a circle
Too proud to take a lady’s hand
Would surely be a Mir’cle

Beyond the real she soon collides within a societal divide
To let the morays soon subside a feeling they won’t soon deny

They gasp in their deliverance
To see a lady sway
Too devious to behold
Too hard to look away

But now is not the time for this a memory they would soon dismiss
This sort of ‘havior can’t exist you’ll have to settle for a kiss.

So there you have it as it was
Before we all were born
Today a girl can dance all day
And barely be adorned.


Details | Ballad | |

beloved

you bring me to my knees
you make me feel so pleased
you brought me down from my high
your the one that makes me feel good inside

you r my beloved
and noone else should care
you said that u loved it
but i know to beware

beloved (beloved)
beloved (beloved)

you seem to have me in your grip

beloved (beloved)
beloved (beloved)

and now i really dont trip
you aree the love~ I~~ admit...


Details | Verse | |

The Caffeine Of Human Kindness

Startled to awakening,
blinds raised in reverent slumber,
  star-struck ghosts with sewn-up mouths
shine and moan, they've got my number.

The sun went super-nova,
lens flared into dark eyes,
  homespun webs of decaying lasers
in black cathedral skies.

All the while time brands the face
with irons hot and white,
  yet yawning lips and frozen clocks
kiss-count this endless night.

Guilty thoughts of people,
wrecked lives, distraught and torn,
  are the caffeine of human kindness
keeping company 'till the dawn.


Details | Verse | |

Good As Gold

Down the market where the meat-hooks gleam,
When the dawn breaks with a silent scream,
And it’s time to guide your face to home.
Another night has ended;
There’s a photograph on someone’s wall
That reminds them who you are and all,
When the future froze with grim aplomb
And saw your dreams suspended.

From the window of the Laundromat
You smoke your fags and smell a rat
The colours spin round in the drum
The clothing seems entitled;
With sighing lips and bleeding eyes
You curse into the slate grey skies
Emotions in you turning numb
The feelings are recycled.

From a cloudburst by a dying tree
The rain falls down half-heartedly
Another day has nearly passed
With nothing good arising;
The oil drums burn out in the street
Frost bitten hands, frost bitten feet,
Another day just like the last,
Why isn’t that surprising?


Details | Narrative | |

British Punjabi (2005)

Though I was born in the UK and I knew no more
In my dreams I heard my grandparents calling me to their door
I visited Punjabi and it lit my heart
This was me, a place in me where I found my part
Know I can see me as a whole
British Punjabi, my identity is in control
I met family I never knew before and they are a reflection of me
Funny, we live so far yet have parallel lives just to continue our ancestry. 
Unity just by sitting on the floor to eat
I am humbled to walk bare foot on the street
My village that struggles in a war and it is home today
I don’t feel torn; I know where I fee at peace and where I should stay 
I feel comfortable being inside of me
I am a British Punjabi 


Details | Free verse | |

In Feudal Times.

In Feudal times when there were Lords,Ladies and serfs
Where would you stand? With your head held high or your
eyes lowered not daring to meet the gaze of a Masters
lest to offend them.
Would you be a person of fine cloth or one of coarse
fabric? 
Would your hands be soft and well manicured or rough
from hard labor?
Would you be idling the hours of the day away preening,
bathing and preparing for morning tea or would you
have no time for yourself,exhausted from working at the
end of the day?
Oh how we have evolved from the old Medieval Feudal days.
Where the clothes that you wore and your title determined 
how you were treated.


Details | I do not know? | |

Seasons of Change

You told me you cried when Kennedy was shot,
Mourning with most of the world 
That twenty-second day of November, 1963.

Mama tell me what it was like
To touch Malcolm's hand,
To feel his smile and know his soul.

Where were you Mama when that bullet rang?
When a gentleman named King was struck
For the last time.

Mama tell me about these seasons of change.
Why do cowards kill and what makes a man?
Why did you cry when Kennedy was shot?


Details | I do not know? | |

Change On A Plain

This small town
With all your idiosyncrasies
Change is already here
What's a small town to do?

Urban sprawl is gonna get ya
What are you going to do
When all the small town charm
Has been sold out of you?

No more vast corn strips
Instead it's, "Welcome to Wal-Mart!"
No more open airstrips
The next problem, "Where to put another Starbucks?"


Details | Cowboy | |

Those Halcyon Hero Days

Smiley sold autographs and pieces of his hat, they say—
In halcyon movie days when heroes just blew away.

There came a time western movie jobs were sparse as hen’s teeth,
And Ken and Kermit Maynard retired and lived on relief.

Ken was reduced to a trailer on a Hollywood lot,
Where he nursed pride and bottles and dreamt of what he was not.

And fans that came to talk with him had no need of poses,
As long as they brought ‘long a bottle of Seven Roses.

Then Ken would show them his fancy holsters with guns loaded—
And he’d relive days again of heroes and villains he goaded.

But though he did not have much, those guns were still his prize—
“He’d not sell them for anything,” was written in his eyes.      

Two pension checks were all he lived on, and they seemed paltry—
One from government and a false named one from Gene Autry.

So it went with now rare jobs, he lived more like a hermit—
But even with the drink, he outlived his brother Kermit.

And so it went in better times when cowboys had their say—
In halcyon movie days when heroes just blew away.


Details | Lyric | |

Oh, Father

Oh, Itay what made you 
blow 
your cigar smoke over that red feathered rooster 
and washed it with gin tonic?
Will that make him brave to defeat his foe?

Which poet inspired you 
to rhyme 
on Sunday morn, delighting those surround you, 
making them listen, again and again?

To which god you belong
and made you smile everyday, not worrying 
the cares of the day?

Tell me…who designed you 
and made me a replica?

I love you, Itay!





Details | Narrative | |

39 Lomonossov St., Kiev 252101, Ukraine

A horde of weary eyes
at the false fountain of youth
in demo against
the fading of the majestic night;
their hushed voice vibrates against 
my seat, as I enjoy the skyline
while the silver moon, secretly
sips my ice-cold compote.

That strange looks 
somehow touch
my own sadness, humming 
with the cold breeze of gentle wind 
and the yelling of sweet Babushka;
I know…and they know, she is right;
it’s time for all, to come to term
with her final whistle. 

She’s the night watcher. Her gate 
of ephemeral solitude, 
is soon to be locked; no other entrance, 
unless one takes the risk, creeping 
like vine to reach the terrace;
but it isn’t easy, ‘cos yesterday morn 
crushed eyes blocked the doorway
that made Babushka scream, for help.

Thou, I never gave her headaches;
she’s really worried seeing me  
on the edge 
of the rooftop, while 
reading Pushkin, as the squadron 
of night worshippers, whining
at the false fountain of youth, 
‘cos of unfinished home-works.




Details | Free verse | |

Mystic Knights of the Sea

does anyone remember
the significance of
these words?

I'll give you just a hint...
look to the early fifties
when the king of all the fish
had conniving his favorite dish


Details | Narrative | |

SATURDAY NIGHT -NINETEEN-FIFTIES STYLE

Tea with Gran,her muffins supreme,Bath and change and hair brylcreamed.Stroll 
into town to the pub in the square, our gang always met there.Checking the football in the 
Oxford 'green un'.Trad jazz with Donegan,Bilk or Collier or maybe the ballroom 
bacchanalia.Skip,hip-hop or jive or more sedately to the Friday Five.A swift half of cider in 
the Bodega bar,happily none of us could afford a car.Dropping a shilling in  the snug juke 
box,choosing Haley and Elvis,then unorthodox.Bought tickets for the coming live shows,Eddie 
Cochrane,Cliff and Shadows.Later, the last waltz ,about to begin,if you were fancied ,it 
showed in her coy grin.Requesting a date took a little courage,so glad my choice that day,led 
to marriage.


Details | ABC | |

Nice guys finsh last.

 Put your best foot forward, turn the other check, be the bigger person, do to 
others, for get the past,
 You do what is right, step away from what is wrong, you live in peace, humble 
your self hard times will pass,
  The seven deadly sins you put to rest, lift others as you fall, pride, self 
worth,degnaty your brothers keeper gets old fast.
  born to clim the endless wall of dispair, hoping, beleaving, thinking, some day 
all the pain, worry, grey ski's, and the supporting cast,
  All will subside you too will live as you deserve to live, I washed my sins, turned 
the next page, turned the black hour glass,
  Looked down at the wicked as I climbed higher and higher to reach happiness 
only to find I have no grasp,
  Every dog will have his day, every cloud has a silver lining, for every good deed 
your found in the trash,
  I want to do whats right, what is the moral thing to do, the humanitary thing to do, 
yet I still have the disrespected rash,
  This game of life I played as a player, both evil and blessed only to find the 
sinners live and the saints crash,
  Look  me in the eye look and see I'm confussed, lost for it seems the more 
good I do grows the burdens mass,
  I've kissed the lips of an angel, listened to the black rivers sass,
Walked on water, rose in fire, divied in lust, and grew from the ash,
  And when I look at it all I see no matter what is done, no matter how much you 
do nice guys finsh last.


Details | Rhyme | |

Distance

Bring back memories,
Hold on to sunny days,
It feels like centuries,
Since we parted ways.

New journeys were bound,
Away from our hometown,
Dreams were scattered around,
Distance let us down.

I breathe loneliness,
Missing your lovely smile,
I search for completeness,
While counting each mile.

The sky is light blue,
But my heart is dark gray,
I miss you oh so true,
you’re too far away.

Bring back memories,
Hold on to sunny days,
It feels like centuries,
Since we parted ways.


Details | Free verse | |

Paper

He,being the bridge to thought 
Reminding me of what i forgot 
Ubiquitous..
Seemingly everywhere, but not 
Amazing its ability to mold 
Shape the future and what it beholds 
From evictions to revolutions 
From problems to solutions
Lubricant,
To oil the wheels of time 
Storing rhymes,
Rhymes to tell her and his story 
Can morph from beauty to gory 
Manipulate and stipulate emotions 
Able to handle poisons and potions 
Even god found it fit for his words 
As ideas merge 
And the more often it turns
Torn and stripped from the life of land 
However given life to the poorest of hands
For the pen is mightier than the sword 
But what would it be without paper as a source


Details | I do not know? | |

$2.00

My pens
Are falling
Down
Despite I
Tided
My belt
Twice 
since this morning

Both
My shoes
I bought
A week ago
For $2.00
Are kicking
Me

Both my pens and pair of shoes
Do not 
Worth the
A week of pain
I have been going
Through.