Pedantry, oh pedantry, is not what you think I do most
I, the escapist, oft twitch at night to catch the star’s wink
Sympathetic, gentle, faithful...and yes, sexually delicate
Combined with gifts, like in arts, is what I am, but I am
Easily misled by my love(r); still, I hate those who’ve no
Sense of structure, or those who’ve no goal to swim afar
Man of words, strange creature of fiery intention,
Amplifying pictures with that restless imagination,
Great are the images spurting forth from your pen,
Nothing holds you down, working alone in the den;
Unto the night you toil, pushed by an alien power,
Mastering some inner demons, taming your fear.
Oh how you search for truths floating up in the air,
Producing tremors with the raging force they stir,
Until at last your labors come to a perfect ending,
Shaking humanity with the hard lessons they bring.
U~nbidden, the draft was upon me,
N~ewly turned from the halls of high school.
I~nspired by the Vets at the legion,
T~o enlist and become Uncle's tool.
E~xpecting to serve with distinction,
D~ogma served warm and fresh to a fool.
S~ent off as a man-child to Asia,
T~o enroll in a myopic war,
A~nd line pockets of war profiteers;
T~ransfer bleeding from wealthy to poor.
E~verything that I learned in that conflict
S~ent the message to soldier no more.
A~nd finding no reason for staying,
R~ealized that my motive and drive,
M~y labor was chosen to ensure
Y~oung soldiers would return home alive.
P aranoia permeates, etching itself into your fractured face,
A cacophony of constant pressure; life remains a stressful race,
N othing to hope for, no positives like promotion in the workplace,
I nability to love, relationships lift anchor and set sail without chase,
C hildren crushing dreams under mortgages; age grows with disgrace
M any of you soupers already knows this friendly New Yorker
I n writes and friendship he`s an outstanding and stand up guy
C entral Park,Strawberry Fields..could it be his invention?
H e inspires and has taught me to write from my heart and soul
A nother days goes by,another write is born right out of his Golden Pen
E ndless rivers of artistic ink,flowing like strong creeks after a long winter
L ive and let live should be tattooed on that dude`s forehead
J ourney has started there`s no stopping now..
F lying zigzag between rainbows,how many beside MJF has been inside a rainbow?
A nchored in poetry his mind drifts all over the planet-searching to find friendly spirits
L ennons` soul visit his work from time to time..
O rdinary people here at the Soup has cherished his work over and over
T he timeless poems he produces displays a unique creativity
I n dream poetry and real life he strikes a nerve,the reader something to ponder
C entral Park..Strawberry Fields..is that your poetry office,Mike?
O ver and over his Golden Pen delivers spectacular work..
* Take care MJF,have a peaceful and great NY week over there!
September 25th 2012
...Formidable treat he stress
At the early hour of this day.
No pain, no gain- All is still well.
Centenary dream is a luxury few can reach.
Yours truly, let your fate decide.
30th of April, 2013.
Try this on for size, we'll all exchange jobs,
Having new tasks just might teach us respect?
What of a career
as an engineer?
or a clerk whose books are suspect?
A starter, try serving as a fireman
No, change spots with somebody’s chauffeur.
Work the fac’try lines,
labor in the mines,
swap posts with a president’s go-fer.
Keen understanding of what this world needs -
Skills that bless a people so diverse?
Though there’s no guarantee
we might come to see
our livelihood could always be worse.
(you could get fired)
Look at yourself - a struggling artist.
Imitate the sweetness of a bar maid.
Be a kids’ teacher
maybe a preacher.
Pause to wonder how their bills get paid.
(do they get tired?)
Value the career of mother/housewife
Interceding among five children - quints!
Trade jobs with a cook
who’s writing a book.
Some vocations need a seventh sense.
(or just plain gumption)
Now what if we size up occupations
Go out and find something worthy of praise?
Our motivation --
for the world of work that fills our days.
(make no assumption)
P oems are always read and commented
O n even if I sometimes don't understand the meaning
E veryone deserves a point of view
M ine may be short and sweet or long winded
S howing you I took the time.
R eading does take some time
E veryone likes your comments
A lways make a comments we
D esire an opinion of any sort.
Over the civil right movement,
One or no other
Reach into your heart as a writer and take you seriously.
Expressing yourself through poetry can
Seen as not being a real writer or "too artistic."
Understanding fellow poets giving you critique as well as praise
Reminds you of how much you love poetry and you can
Except that the written word can be a prosperous future for you.
written by: Brandee Augustus
Being on the roll bring them a thought of eloquence,
Exempting the fact things in the giant tournaments,
Inside of which lies the origin of originality and dexterity;
Nexus, so true of either being alive or dead
Gentle souls, to be, should stay on the track.
" With barely a nod they delivered the news
... the store is closing, your job you will lose."
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Unemployment is an imminent threat
Not to be taken lightly.
Changes I'm not looking forward to
Envelop my dreams nightly.
Retirement is not an option.
This uncertainty is daunting.
Age is a factor to employment.
I find my anxiety haunting.
Never did I think this job would end.
Tomorrow is now the unknown.
I'm scared of the future, as never before.
My anxiousness, full blown.
Each day I wonder what will be.
So afraid of what will happen to me.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
by Francine Roberts 05/09/2011
for Constance's contest 'Write it Deep
and Dramatic, Please'
Wailing in the city beyond bridge and bog
Austerity choking the dreams in cribs
Loans have dried up, at noon there is fog
Leverage everything, he pawns his ribs
She drinks and staggers to the new trade
Traditions fall apart by the will to live
Recession crawls and curls atop the spade
Economy everywhere has nothing to give
Except for the looters, fat and cool
Teamsters and workers are like barren mule
Heavy in debt, blind, blind the arguments
Owners of nothing no business can grow
Subtle the pipers anethestic of discontents
Thousands are homeless, pension like snow
Amassed and melted under paws of greed
Governments are impotent, bankers rule
Excess they blame on the workers in need
Suffering hides in shame, but dogs do drool.
Fate he stressed (earlier on) isn't to stand idle
Attitude, hardworking, perseverance and prayer are keys to greatness
No shortcut to true success, recognition or
Continuous reputation and achievement
You need to wake up from your slumber if really you want to belong
P anic gnaws a little hollow
R ight beneath my rib.
O ver a deadline my mind stumbles
C reating distraction adlib.
R ancid are the thoughts of necessity
A ccosting my fragile frame;
S urely I can avoid the crime
T empting me to shame:
N eglect my history paper.
A crostic I write instead.
T ruth be told:
N ow procrastinate . . .
G od help me focus my head!
Never to be challenged would not be expected.
One’s spirit would truly die, forever being infected.
Respect beyond years of age, enhanced by service scored.
Each day passing seems I am just a little bit more ignored.
Sincerely I see others being from outside welcomed aboard.
Persons with only profit for them are welcomed in accord.
Exasperated I continue to do my job for no extra reward.
Calmness is harder to reorder in my daily extreme restored.
Thwarting abounded, stabbing my abilities with a sword.
Thirty-five years in a fifty year old building where I repair all.
Having that many years of changes within, each one I have saw.
I answer calls each day to fix everything, either big or very small.
Reality is and this is not vainness, they expect me never to fall.
Truth is I listen to every word that is said, though it might be tall.
Years of paying attention watching closely to every bouncing ball.
Facilities maintenance is one title that my job holds so dear.
I just call myself a maintenance man, and no job do I fear.
Victory is mine if I can repair and keep it running so clear.
Eventually though all things must be replaced some year.
Years spent in one place can take a toll on anyone’s heart and mind.
Every soul needs a change once in awhile, so peace they can find.
Another twelve years is what spirit will endure, before I unwind.
Retirement is not what I seek, for I have always worked in a grind.
Service to others is more than a job to me, my life, existence refined.
To my co-worker and friend Leslie Sparks; Thank You for all that you do!
L-istens lovingly and laughs loudly; she's
E-motionally engaged in everyday events,
S-he’s seldom shy, simply sophisticated, and superbly sweet.
L-eslie has a laborious level of leadership; she’s
I-mmensely impartial to the word impossible; incredibly inquisitive, and interesting;
E-ternally empathetic to everyone else’s needs
Wonder what they learned in preschool
Obviously it wasn’t playing nice
Rarely can you trust a colleague
Kindness always has a price
The Mayan calendar of ancient times ends
When December 12 of this year rolls around
Old prophesy: or nothing but a clerical error?
Trembling Earth and volcanic fire raining down
Hurricanes sweeping paths of utter destruction
Outer space invading our fragile atmosphere
Ultimate destruction; Homo Sapiens extinction
Stinging rain of fire and ice scouring the Earth
An end to life as humans know it; a new start
Nothing left but ashes, dust and sorry survivors
Destruction on scales unseen though out history
The bureaucratic scribe keeps the Mayan calendar
What happens when important business comes in?
Everyone suspends work on the make work project
Leaving the date at the last day to be penned
Visited by destruction the Mayan culture dies
Enter what amounts to a Typographical error
On the move exquisite
Best moves for the pride
All people will admire
Meeting poor with oblige
A great man's ride
Dan Cwiak - Dedicated to *** Constance ***
The Rambling Poet's work titled: Throbbing With Life
In thinking of a contest poem with ~~~ RULES ~~~
Consideration must be given to them,
Or the poetry written will not fit
Under their *** UMBRELLA ***
Lonely, the poet feels encumbered by
Doing his work for such a ~~~ CONTEST ~~~
Nothing else can upset the delicate balance
Of words, rhyme, and *** METER ***
To enter a contest is a challenge
For any poet to attempt ~~~ YET ~~~
In so far as subscribing to the rules
Necessary, he must make the effort with
Devotion, thought, and ***STRONG WILL ***
This is the strength of the poet's
Heart as a writer and wordsmith,
Endeavoring to complete his ~~~ TASK ~~~
When I try to write something clever
Or get on with my writing as a *** QUEST ***
Rigid are the thoughts that cross my mind,
Descriptive are those that only ~~~ ESCAPE ~~~
Such that I am mindful of the burden laid upon me.
To some, it may come easily to their *** BEING ***
Others, like me, have a more difficult task as the
Disharmony of thoughts, words, and feelings
Evolve into an imperfect type of ~~~ PERFECTION ~~~
Very often, the expressions are only those
Of the emotional guilt I may have for the subject.
Too often, however, I begin to use *** Poetic License ***
Even though, I should not take that liberty.
To those who can claim the poet's glib words,
Or the gift that they have, often proceed to ~~~ GIVE ~~~
Yet, such is my life as poet. Such is the ~~~ CONSCIENCE ~~~
Of my soul. Oh, but to shed myself of these thoughts,
Under the banner of the poetry that I *** WRITE ***
View so clear from a very distant perspective
Inclinations and angles wonderfully captioned and analyzed
Sight alone isn’t sufficient. This is coming straight from the mind
In full projection of the future
Only then can a mission be targeted and worked
No wonder Steven Wonder nurtured a great one despite being blind
Bountiful castles with walls of sand
Each grain an intricate part
Albatross squawk in high demand
Con morsels from those with soft hearts
Hot bodies bask in the blazing sun
Bikinis boast dangerous curves
Lifeguards patrol tanned to well done
As surfers show off their steel nerves
Nautical transports battle the swells
Kites soar aloft dot the sky
Enveloped in rays and happy kid yells
Transfers to a new level high
Blankets of color protect fragile skin
Immense weight of stress melts away
Nod off gently and try to imagine
Going to work every day
On a beach where work is like play
Beach Blanket Bingo contest
Among thousands of Indians, he rose,
born in Rameshwaram, a tiny village of the south..
Dreamt of changing the world
using wit and reason -
learning and teaching he spent his life.
Kindness and selflessness he valued,
and wanted to spend his last breath teaching -
loyal to his words, he did,
and all that Indians think of, now...
May he rest in peace.
For 'Our Teacher', Abdul Kalam, who passed away on July 27th.. He was SUCH a great person and Indian..
PLEASE DO READ THIS! - (There is a different link about him on my previous poem)
Patience it’s an necessity
Envision your goals
Reaction is key
Encourage each other
Victory is attainable
Reach out and take hold of whatever you strive for
Nothing comes easy
Champion status is something earned not made
Expect only the very best for yourself
If you want to be successful at whatever you do
Then you must go after it with all of your heart
Along with some perseverance and also a never say quit attitude
And you will be amazed at what you can accomplish
Because I know whatever you strive for is within reach
But now I can’t promise you that it will come easy.
Utilizing what I have in front of me
Running out of time dabbling in my writes
Night is almost near and I’m burning daylight in unnecessary concerns
Instead of the things that are important and I’m supposed to be managing
Going to lose precious time
Definitely, I have procrastinated long enough, I need to
Abandon my play
Yanked back to reality
Laboring to accomplish my objective
Ignited with drive
Getting things started, it was
Hard work, but
Thank goodness I finish what I began
© Eve Roper 4/29/2015
Mere means of being master of all labor, this power
Overthrows all virtue, and write the metered history
Nations spin web in web, and now it is the cocoon hour
Emerge the spider on spindly legs from calyx tragedy
Yelping bankers and their merchants billed for all wars
Consumers credit lost, money minting on us its scars
Ruined trust in men awake us to being pawns of greed
Economy after economy in goldless tatter and its shame
Dies, drizzle, toxic in resuurection the fawned at weed
Industrialist used to circumvent taboos in the blind game
Trapping with historic dream the energy of men stagnant still.
I come not to Zion yet but old Jerusalem in desert sand
Sighing at the prints, O garrulous the nail marked hand
Debt and deal transacted, the calyx shrivels in winkless sun
Orbituuary of Babel's history, Mammon's feathers unwaxed
Nature in sure cycles recovers, wind breaks the spider spun
Emancipated faith confronts the Ceasar, ransomed and taxed