My cousin shared her wishes and dreams,
On our star gazing night, she whispered them so sweet
As a shooting star glided down from the sky,
She said, I wish ….. I wish…. all I wish are these tonight
Someday, I will marry a smart, rich and handsome guy
And have a grandiose banquet on my nuptial rite
We’ll be dancing like a lovely prince and princess ,
With all my wedding sponsors on their best suits and dresses
All in pink ,that’s the motif I will surely request.
She kept into her dreams as several years passed by,
Still searching for her prince charming who’s hard to find
Unconsciously going beyond the age to give birth to a child,
In a hurry at age of seventy, she took a rich ninety years old guy.
The wedding was held after a day or two,
The guy seated on his wheelchair with rheumatism on his toe
She headed slowly at the alter to accept his shaking hands,
Two nurses followed, so with sponsors dressed up in printed brown.
The highlight of the wedding rite started at once,
They held tightly with a nebulizers on the other hands,
But the words of oath, they took time to pronounce
False teeth were both misplaced and nowhere to be found.
Reception followed grandiosely in the guy’s mansion,
I saw many old men and women still eager to dance on the floor,
With hunched back, shaking knees, they twisted rock and roll
Then, sweet music played and my cousin danced with her groom.
But, we all wondered how did he stand alone?
He’s so heavy , I knew my cousin couldn’t help him at all,
With our great surprise, his nurse was at his side like his crutch
Everyone thought , he’s really a smart guy! Was he not?
Then, everyone followed them so happily on the spacious hall,
And in trio, they held each other so tight and moved like a fool.
Written: Sept. 15, 2012
Contest: My Cousin's Wedding (funny poem)
Contest Judged: 9/30/2012
Poet Sponsor: Joann Grisetti
Copyright © Galeo DS | Year Posted 2012
Universes of time, aged stars;
Silent and bright, how they swirl.
Each one lights its own corner of the heavens;
each stands as one body;
serving the universe, alone.
They all reach great heights.
There are no fears here of heights;
no phobias among these stars;
despite them having to stand alone.
Round and round they swirl;
each centrifugal body,
swirling in the heavens.
When people look at the heavens;
they look to great heights;
and peruse those wondrous bodies.
They stare and dream, beneath the stars;
watching them blink and swirl;
each doing their job together, yet alone.
The state of being alone,
up there, in the heavens;
in a constant state of, swirling;
can steer them to those, limitless heights.
Like people, they are travelers, those stars;
little gypsy’s in cosmic light bodies.
With no limbs to impede their bodies;
they travel to other universes, alone.
Each life has its own journey, even a star;
as it travels through the heavens;
it achieves, greater and greater heights;
never looking back, as it swirls.
Like stars, the human mind, with dreams…swirls;
within the mortal body;
Until it too, achieves great heights;
and doing this, very much alone.
Man dreams of rising to heaven;
just like the gypsy stars.
In the end, like dwarfed stars; the human mind will cease its swirl.
In the heights of heaven, there is no mortal body.
No soul is alone, yet without any spin, it achieves those new heights.
Copyright © M. L. Kiser | Year Posted 2014
Even if this life ends one day,
Don't worry for me, I'll be here.
Don't cry, it breaks the heart,
That I no longer have.
We used to walk across the bridge all day,
Simply laughing along, sing a few songs.
That day seemed to come to soon, like it was a coincidence,
Right as I pulled out a new song for us to enjoy.
Standing up, looking out to the sunset,
I sang the first verse,
"When I pass away, will we still be connected?
When I pass over the stars, will your warmth be there?"
As if the time was too short, it had come to this,
Even now, my spirit seems to feel the same pain as then,
When I fell over onto the ground,
The same familiar pain in my heart.
Now it's come to this, laying in a hospital bed,
And I can't seem to speak to you.
I forcefully rip off the mask, just to say
"I love you."
Even now, when my spirit is all that remains of what I have left,
I promise she will still be there for you, in my place for now,
Because when we meet again someday, we can laugh,
And finish that one song that we started that day.
Copyright © Frisk Carris | Year Posted 2014
imperial evil rings the rebellions bell
and awakens the rebels fight
allow for a new tomorrow
a skywalker will be in plain sight
his mind as sharp and committed
as the nail that split the force
a parasite of the night are we
the padawan has chosen his course!
BY Mark Taylor: ......Star Wars......
Copyright © Mark Taylor | Year Posted 2013
On that cloudy weekend in June
I hear a soft and graceful tune
from the grey bird on the tree
Singing sweet lullabies felt
blessed in the moment
My body tingles of joy at sight
Gazing out through
my open door,
Letting thoughts fly free
Releasing love out into the horizon
Heart filled with emotion came
Grey bird stood playing its tune
for awhile and on the wings of
Then as the rain fell from the
sky the grey bird flew away
I blew a kiss to the clouds and
utterd these simple words of I
Love You father ( who's now in
heaven ) and yet I hope to hear
that grey bird sing again once
more for me
Farewell, love your son
Poem contest for Debbie -referential
Copyright © Brian Otoole | Year Posted 2013
Hopeful doesn’t mean stupid
That doesn’t mean I wasn’t stupid
I was in a state and messed up
Simple as that.
I could dramatize
Spill all the stars from my eyes and mouth and cry out for answers but,
My spirit can dance alone.
A lapse in judgement will not throw it off beat because it dances to a cosmic drum. My heartbeat and no one else’s.
Dropped my shield
Set myself on fire
Burned up a daft dream
And fell to ashes.
I’ve proven to relate to the phoenix
Both of us know what it’s like to die a quick death and come back stronger
Time and time again
Our ashes swirl into the manifestation of our desires and in that I find my comfort.
Hard topped, granite counters
Tough as nails kid
But kid is man or at least he pretends to be.
Smart phones aren’t so smart but, I’m writing this on one
Sedatives and sad, country music mood swims through my veins.
Excuse me, while I go have a drink with that phoenix.
Copyright © Alexander Schwartz | Year Posted 2013
Sometimes silly things happen,
like that, now, old night,
when we named a star,
just to enjoy the following of the cliche,
the sibling from the one that brought us apart.
Hearts filled with the whole innocence from,
You being the one,
and I being the best one.
What contained bits of the irony of us calling our first love,
knowing with our premature fascination for words that,
is the start of a sequence,
is what comes before all others in time or order,
which was indeed what it was.
And sometimes not so silly things happen,
like us growing apart.
or mainly, growing,
for us to realize that we were - actually - not that into each other.
But back then, in those minds and hearts of two young and naive preteens,
we would believe anything that came from the others lips,
those lips that were our firsts and till then our only ones, or so we said...
to keep up with our diminishing innocence.
do you remember how our star was called?- I asked, that one last night.
hoping you did remember, knowing you didn't.
To receive the expected answer,
which just confirmed what I already knew,
you did too.
After that kiss you said good bye,
and never looked back,
which was actually fine,
cause I had already done that,
not out loud.
Now you know,
sometimes silly things happen,
like me saying it now,
Thank you my first love,
I'll never forget those lips of yours,
Copyright © Diana Freiwald | Year Posted 2013
The large cigarette burn i n the sky
Scorches an unforgiving landscape,
Aging the ideas of mankind.
This corpuscle of bubbling pus
Cloaks the world with its runny yoke,
Which stains a blue plate.
Sustains a gluttonous body,
And warms the vast belly
Of ice tundra and desert sand
Which bathe in the ashen grains of time,
Until the fire dies,
And its light stubbed out in an ashtray,
By a little, geriatric man
Who has puffed away at our dreams.
Copyright © Donna de Jongh | Year Posted 2013