The world is made for lovers, on this new Valentines Day
And that was from my brother because it had gone astray.
He sent it to his girlfriend; I had hoped the card was for me
But when I opened it, I was shocked at the words I did see.
My brother professing love for me, I knew his handwriting well
He told me how I would see his heart begin to swell.
As you may imagine, this shocked me to the core
When the postman came back and knocked upon the door.
“That card I put through here, it was not meant for you
I know your brother well and he asked me this to do.
Put it through his girlfriend’s door, to save the prices a stamp
I have put it though the wrong one, the bulbs gone in the street lamp.”
“That’s ok”. I said, but you must have one for me
“Sorry love” he said, “You are a forgotten Valentine again I see.”
Earth is what we become and makes us whole.
Air is the first and last thing we breathe in.
Fire is what consumes us and eats our sin.
Water cleanses us, mind, body and soul.
Spirit is in us all and makes us who we are.
Without these we would fall oh so far.
Invite them into our sacred circle and pay tribute.
As we are condemned, we are resolute.
We love fiercely and fight for our freedom.
Ignorance breeds fear and unwisdom.
Thank them for gracing us with their presence.
While we give our thanks and recompense.
Exhilarated and feeling like a newborn child,
Wow this circle's "magic" is wild.
Desert Wanderer with not a cup-
I'll hold you tight and lift you up-
I'll give you aid and lend my strength-
And take you far, to a great length-
To see your safety and a healthy smile-
You are worth life, have no self- denial-
I promised you in, a time now gone past-
That my love forever, surely shall last-
For you are my Desert Wanderer dreary-
Take this sorrow and be your eyes so teary-
I promise you now, and in the here after-
You will find love, placed inside my laughter-
We will stay one, toghether and all-
Always shall I be waiting for your call-
My Desert Wanderer with not a cup-
Hold my hand, I will lift you up-
On a slope graced with green
White marble stands in proud salute
For beneath these engraved pillars of memory
Lie the resting places of heroes
A solitary green fir looks down
As if sheltering the lost and the taken
So many names, from all walks of life
A father, brother a girlfriend or wife
On a sunny day, they glow radiant like their lives
On a dull day, they stand out against the greys
For the living, life goes on
Tomorrow is another day
Charmanders are red and Squirtles are blue
If you were a Pokemon I would always choose you
You’re smile is stronger than a hyperbeam
Like Jesse and James we make the perfect team
I will stand by your side like Pikachu and Ash
I’ll love you more than a level eighty Rapidash
You’re more legendary than a Lapras, Entei or Mew
Out of all six hundred and forty Pokemon, I would always choose you
This poem was written by my 11 year old granddaughter Kisha Cherington, my grandson would have been 19 on the 13/07/2013, and he loved Pokemon very much, his sister still misses him and I thought this was just a great couplet she wrote for him, so wanted to share and hope others will enjoy her poem.
Who am I?
Am I defined by what is near in sight?
Am I defined by what I have done,
Or am I defined by what I could become?
Perhaps I'm of no use.
To him, or her, or I, nor you.
Or perhaps I'm too misunderstood to be defined,
And it is something like understanding that comes in time.
And if to the world I'm never shown,
Yet in my own light I've grown and grown,
And so I can know no happiness but my own--
The reason for my smile, to you, will forever be unknown.
I do not pray for the world to know my name.
For it and verse; the letters are the same.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads,
I pray his pain my words to keep.
Should his eyes rain on my page,
Better tears than storms of rage.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads.
I pray his pain my words to keep.
And if to the world you're never shown,
Yet in your own light you've grown and grown,
And so you know no happiness but your own.
Let the reason for your smile, to you, only be known.
Family reunion, can't get enough
Chillin' and talkin' about all kinds of stuff
Homemade ice cream taste so good
Want to eat it all day, if I could I would
We laugh and talk about old times
Relaxing and sipping on our favorite wines
My brother in law says I have a gift for you
It is a ring all shiny and new
I tell him I will cherish it and clinch the ring real tight
I know I am waking up from my dream tonight
My brother in law visited me from the beyond
A gift I will treasure, our family bond
Contest by: Francine Roberts
September 22, 2012
~In My Dreams~
I can’t believe it look what I see!
There you are looking at me.
How did you know we just talked of you?
A thousand miles from home, can this be true?
To see you there is like the lottery win
I never thought I’d see you again.
The world is small and gets smaller each day
What a fantastic thing has happened today.
Your eyes are just as I knew and remembered
You hair a little thinner that I think was intended.
I never thought you would be so tanned
Gosh how I have dreamed of holding you hand.
How come you are here in my hiding place?
No matter, I always wanted to look at your face.
Come here; come hug me I just can’t believe
So strong and warm for you I did grieve.
You have never met your brother –in-law!
I felt a bump on the head I was then on the floor.
I cried as I realised it was not as it seemed
For my little dead brother was just in my dream.
The day was hot as red rose sunny
We gathered eggs from holes like a bunny
Down to the grocer’s store we went
Sold our eggs funds on candies spent
With grandma abed off comes the coat
On goes the sneakers shaped like a boat
Big brother goes racing up to the gate
The youngest trying to be quiet shout wait
Round the corner comes the show truck
Reels of movies in boxes securely tuck
Hercules Ben Hur High Noon Dracula and such
We saw them o’er and o’er he hadn’t much
Big brother hops on the truck going up the hill
The youngest and I ran behind we know the drill
Hopping onto trucks is a skill perfected by boys
We girls had to be content playing with toys
Inside the show house the movie starts
Everyone must hear our throbbing hearts
Written Sept. 8 2012
For Craig's contest: Summer Fun
We awakened, we argued, just like we had done before
It was mostly about football, the Celtic versus Rangers score
I would choose my team, as usual he would choose his
Pushing and shoving would then entail, growing brotherly bliss
But this was a day that was going to unite us, brothers, yes we
For we were getting our uniforms, the Boys Brigade's 4th Company
Football squabbles we left behind, to Bishop Edens we would go
It's our Primary School, did I tell you, our learning's in scholar show
As usual we met at playtime, in the same team we always played
We were like Pele, no doubt, well! it's what we tried to display
To the clock we always watched, as we told each other after school
Lets hurry home to have supper, for the 4th Company in us ruled
We left the caravan together, then brotherly competition arrived
Hey James! I'll race you to the canal, my little legs in strive
Into the distance he ran, blimey! he's much faster than I thought
I must continue to look up to him, he's my elder, I'm sure well taught
Just as I turned the corner, now knowing that I'm lagging behind
One minute he was there then gone, images now run through my mind
What I have witnessed, is now focused, a JU250 van has swept him away
It's impact I feel in my heart, I'm now in slow motion play
I now reach the junction, in my peripheral I hear my brother scream
Nothing like this I have heard, am I absorbed in a nightmare dream
The driver exits the van, his head he holds in his hands
I'm seven years old in tears, just trying to understand
Curious lights flash through the door,
Strange beckonings leave you wanting more.
Drawn to the lights you step outside,
Into the night where danger may hide.
Striding boldly you search for the source,
Stepping lively you determine your course.
Every step brings you nearer,
While your surroundings grow ever stranger.
Dazzling lights flash in the darkness,
Showing garish flashes of horrid harshness.
Steps grow timid, but much faster,
To avoid unknown disaster.
The devil dances just out of sight,
Cackling at his fortune this ghastly night.
The darkness fades with the sunrise,
Revealing the morbid cast of Death and Demise.
Then time passes and small things change,
But the cries of sirens you never heard still cry,
Never silenced within your brain,
Ever crying out the day that you began to die.
Wherever I go through out my whole life,
I end up struggling with lots of strife.
Thinking that my life is a total waste,
Wanting it to be over in a haste.
I can feel the pain inside my own heart,
Like someone through at my a deadly dart.
The wound is easing deeper and deeper,
Will the pain ever stop getting bigger?
Feeling emo is never a good thing,
Cutting your arm makes a really bad sting.
Blood is dripping from my arms and my heart,
Failing to dodge the largest deadly dart.
Drowning in all the lies and self pity,
I live each day but always feel sh*tty.
I have lots of thoughts about suicide,
But then I think about those who have died.
Those who have died not just from suicide,
But also those who are really nice guys.
...This "poem" was actually suppose to be a couplet (on any thing you want) for my english
class but i made this kind bcuz i was feeling emo that day...and also after i was done i read it
over and it almost sound like a rap song which, i guess, is kinda funny and cool.........
My children mean more than the world to me
Molding little men into what they could become
Each day brings with it fresh kisses
Not one one them Mommy misses
Challenges met, some old, some new
Pictures reminding us how much they grew
As hard as each day can seem
Patience is a virtue, helping redeem
Wanting what all parents want for their kids
Teaching and learning underneath their lids
To be smart and strong and ever so kind
Brothers united, forever blood, their bind
Not all brothers connect the same way
Puzzle pieces teaching each other what's right to say
Somethings are easier to learn than others
Only time will tell if they can love each other as brothers
He passed on turkey, passed on ham
and even on Mom’s candied yams!
He passed, for sure, on salad greens
and carrots, peas and lima beans!
He passed on Mom’s best home-baked bread
and cheeses ready to be spread.
The gravy and the mashed potatoes:
Those he passed on - and tomatoes.
Mom then served desserts; we knew
he’d pass on pie and ice cream too!
But for fruit JELLO, the small brat
yelled, “Mom, please pass me ALL of that!”
I wish I was asked this question when I was five years old
For it's a question I would have answered as my words unfold
This never happened yesterday, it was way back, 1966
What made our neighbour decide, to ignite his floorboards sticks
Our whole house woke in panic, smoke billowed everywhere
Into the darkness we stared, at five years old and scared
Thoughts running through my head, confused in a darkening world
Then suddenly I could see, my vision became un-blurred
What I took I couldn't grab, for it was already a part of me
For I, I took myself, and thanked my eyes to see
But going back to the original question, just what would I grab
It would have been an image of my brother, he was seven, and he was fab
The region that makes my blood grow green
Where are you in this pastoral's den?
Your vivid eyes is now poor like muddy hut
What has really come over you?
Behold our pebbles of gold and our planting grown
Ona, What is next to god you want?
Your nerve is forgotten so soon
Our share of roses and dine in the garden
It seem so soon, it is drying out from your memory
Our share of chopper and run for grasshopper
Honey, can't you call those days back
Our lone under the forest trees
Have you forgot our prayer for success
And our collective effort for your journey abroad...
...My lady, I will wait for many time
Because only you can complete me
My Summer, if to remain a pole with no hold
So long as you will return, I will not mind.
For your Light is my strength in the field
And brilliant kisses around natures are memories unforgotten.
Let someone please find me my summer
And tell her to come back home.
BY: Abdulhafeez T. Oyewole
< my pal Joe
well don't you just know
his illuminating writes
will drawn you to his pages site
epulaeryu ~ burlesque ~ didactics ~ or sonnets
you'll wanna wear a nice and sunny bonnet
land sea or air
let your imagination take you there
inspiration bounded for your soul
my pal Joe surely does know
glad he's just a phone call away
to lift my spirits in so many ways
and if you want succulant mango
first you'll have to dance to the tango
So please stop on by
to give my pal Joseph Spence's poetry a try
Praise Your Poetry Pal Contest
Silver streamers and many a purple light
glowing against a splendid tree of white.
The hallway's decked in lavender and blue
conveying warmth to all within it's view.
Will be a special holiday this year-
my long-lost brother will visit me here.
The years have rolled by-sadly we lost touch
but I never stopped loving him so much.
He's promised to come so I'm making things jolly-
I even found some lovely purple holly!
Everywhere he'll see my unique style
and feel the warmth as we sit for awhile.
We'll speak of things that neither of us knew
of life and love and trials we've been through.
This Christmas all the years will disappear
and I will be so blessed to have him near!
By Deb Wilson
for contest"Holiday Hearth"
sponsored by Linda-Marie Sweetheart of PS
Please take a moment and open your thoughts
As you enter my mind to the contests sought
To run as brothers one faster than the other
Running to catch up to shadow his brother
One turns the corner the other behind
Just as he turns in your eyes you now find
Through me you see a main road just ahead
You see your brother, in seconds he's dead
Listen to the impact as he is hit by a van
Slow motion now shows, as different worlds ran
Tyres are screeching, or is it my brother
For fifty yards he's been dragged, a young life in smother
To reach the opening that your past images have seen
A nine year old boy against a modern machine
To look through my eyes on that Monday night
At seven years old I turned and took fright
How I got back to my father I'll never know
In monsoon of tears under street light glow
To be so young to say your brother is dead
For the past forty two years, my dreams I still dread
Preston Jacob Simon.
The one who played catch with me in the past,
The guy who throws the ball extremely fast.
The guy who graduated in 2006,
Guess what college he goes ahead and picks.
UNLV is where he has been,
Although he graduated from there in 2010.
The one who got engaged three days later,
He says life in Seattle is so much greater.
The guy who used to work at Panera Bread,
His career there is officially dead.
He stands tall at 6’3”,
He was the GM of two restaurants with a criminal justice degree.
In the restaurant business since age 16,
He’s pretty close to rolling in the green.
2012 is his marriage year,
When he first knelt down he was bursting with fear.
The dude who told me it wasn’t too late,
To pick up my grades in order to graduate.
The guy I haven’t seen in so very long,
The one that always beats me in a game of Ping Pong.
He’s always been there and never let me down,
I cry tears of joy when I know he’s in town.
The guy who’s an Austin Bulldog at heart,
Travis Tigers rule supreme, where do I even start.
We’ve had our moments; we’ve had our days,
We’ve had those times when all we could do is praise.
Preston Jacob Simon
Sibling Rivalry: Hitting
By Dane Smith-Johnsen
Time after time my brother hit me.
Rather than fight, I would quickly flee.
Too many days, I ran into mom.
Sometimes she'd explode just like a bomb!
One day she looked me straight in the eye.
You must fight back. You must at least try.
Don't come crying, if you haven't hit back.
I will spank you. You'll feel the switch crack.
How I could do it, I did not know.
Smack my brother so courage would grow?
For several days, he left me alone.
Then, it happened, a hit then a moan.
Down on the ground, he was in a flash.
I, on his chest, his face I did bash.
Over and over my fist hit face.
One last slug and to mom I did race.
Right behind me, steadily crying.
To hear him, you'd think he was dying.
She started to scold; I did remind.
You said, “Hit him… “ Or trouble was mine.
That was the day I stood for myself.
And put some fear to rest on a shelf.
The day I learned, through my brother's moan.
Thanks goes to Mom, my courage had grown.
Don't tell me that you understand, don't tell me that you know,
Don't tell me that I will survive, how I will surely grow.
Don't tell me this is just a test, that I am truly blessed,
That I am chosen for this task, apart from all the rest.
Don't come at me with answers that can only come from me,
Don't tell me how my grief will pass, that I will soon be free.
Don't stand in pious judgment of the bonds I must untie,
Don't tell me how to suffer, don't tell me how to cry.
My life is filled with selfishness, my pain is all I see,
But I need you, I need your love, unconditionally.
Accept me in my ups and downs, I need someone to share,
Just hold my hand and let me cry, and say,
"My friend, I really do care."
" Rakhi - for my brother "
Threads of Rakhi twined in love,
Connote a sister's love for her brother,
Love that got obscured in busy life,
Distance progressed as we adored our families,
But only seemingly parted,
Souls still one and a single thought,
Born of one mother, lived
together for years
Celebrated, faught, annoyed,
conciliated and understood each other,
Endeavoured on all topics,
Lived by each other in all thick and thin,
Childhood days are not just memories,
But to cherish and a reason to live,
Some family values, expressed by subtler gestures,
And immersed Into these fragrances..............
Are tender strings of Rakhi.
From planted seeds, trees have grown.
My hope, regards this scene, is to remind you of home.
Rooted and grounded have the trees come to be.
From different forests, though, are both you and me.
Yet, like one tree that grows and bares many branches:
Rather northward, to the south, eastward, or to the west;
And no matter where fruits from a tree are selected.
I want you to know we're still connected.
As the "Legends of the Fall" unfold
One story stands out, needs to be told
When Samuel heads out to fight a world war
Brother Tristan is sent to be his protector
Young Samuel's motives were clear and pure
And the ravages of war he chose to endure
But to a barb wire fence he clung, then fell
As enemy rifles cast their deathly knell
Renegade Tristan resolved to seek vengeance
As he watched his brother's soul sent to the heavens
He not only killed enemies, but scalped them as well
Then returned to the site where Samuel fell
As taught by a Native American wise man
He removed Samuel's heart, brought it home again
To bury on a serene Montana hilltop
But the tears in his eyes, Tristan could not stop
For Samuel and Suzzanah would never be wed
And Tristan cried so hard, his tears ran red
He felt like a failure, his world fell apart
But at least he'd returned Samuel's precious heart
To the family ranch where his brothers and he
Had been raised by their father so lovingly
Legends live on and this much I surely know
Brad Pitt stole my heart as well as the show
When you walked away I said I wouln't cry
but I almost did when you said goodbye
when you did come home you weren't very well
you said you weren't hurting but you were I could tell
I stayed by your side as your breath slid away
whispered to you on your final day
as you took your last breath you told me don't cry
no matter what happens this isn't goodbye
you now have peace my soldier
lay at rest
because you my american soldier were one of the best
as time goes past as you asked I don't cry
I kept my word because you promised this wasn't goodbye.
Like to get rabies.
That's the way babies rock.
Like nice highlighters.
That's the way Writers rock.
who loves ya baby
hmmm now let me see
I know my mommy did
even though her shoes I did hid
I think my daddy did
when I didn't make him snid
brothers and sisters well maybe just a little
when I didn't get in the middle
my grandpa and grandma surely does
for I'll do anything for them just because
I know my little girl loves her momma
even better than president Obama
my dogs and cats loves me
even if they continue to make me sneeze
even my close friends new and old still spark the love
for we will alway's go on and well above
paperboy surely does
cause I tip him for keeping my paper out of bushes and shrubs
milkman used to
when I didn't make him shu
bill collectors oh yes
for I'm their baby who they love the best
so who loves me
well lets just continue to see
Tribute To Love
Also Entry For
Who Love's Ya Baby Contest
My brother lives a health food life
In Colorado, with his wife.
Breakfast is a smoothie shake.
(I eat bagels, scones or cake.)
Should you want to join his ranks,
This is how – I need no thanks.
Place these items in the blender:
(You’ll be healthy, fit and slender.)
Start out with some chard or kale;
(Spinach, too, if it’s on sale.)
Add an orange (peeled, of course),
Pollen from a beehive source,
Lemon peel, some grapes, a peach,
Mango, kiwi – one of each,
Pineapple – just one fresh ring,
Some acai to add some zing.
Can’t find all the fruits he’s chosen?
Use some berries that are frozen.
If you have a real ripe pear,
Toss that in to give some flair.
One last item from your stash –
Spirolina, just a dash.
What that is, I have no clue;
But I’ll bet it’s good for you!
Press the button – your machine
Will mix it up and turn it green.
Drink it up, just like you should;
My brother swears it’s really good!
As for me, I think I’ll pass
On drinks that look like fresh-cut grass.
Also, other reasons lurk –
Making one is too much work!
BBroken in half
the battered moon
hung dejected in the gloom
in the gloom of Prodigal Bay
the ending of a vital day.
The day I found my Father's son
the Golden Boy,the only one
to ever make my father smile
a child of beauty,without guile
He rocked a crockeyed rocking chair
as if to rock away from there
In his hand,a living thing,a fishing pole,
could almost sing
as he sailed the light line high
between the river and the sky
He never turned his eyes to mine
just rocked and fished his fishing line
I told him of our father's plight,
I bade him come with me tonight
to gaze a final time and share
one moment just to say," I care."
The line zinged out to kiss the tide
across the river's other side
the moonlight sparked the flying tears
along the line,that spanned the years
and we were back there in the past
watching brother at the mast
smiling as he sailed along
singing some old sailor's song
laughing as our mother danced
on the deck,but then she chanced
to catch her ankle in a loop
a rope piled there upon the sloop
she screamed a scream that echoes yet
and now my brother can't forget
he blamed himself for her demise
and could not bear our father's eyes
for he was charged with keeping straight
and neat the deck and now self hate
had kept him here on Prodigal Bay
until our father's dying day
I knelt beside his crumpled form
I touched his hand so tired and worn
He turned and handed me the line
"Your turn to make the catch this time."
The eddies spiraled without end
the way our mother's love had been
I watched the bobber rise and fall
I tried to comprehend it all
and then the snap!,the pop of line
the slack was gone,the fish was mine!
I yelped and staggered to my feet
my brother jumped out of his seat
and caught his ankle in the line
I couldn't reach for him in time
He disappeared beneath the creek
my sight grew dim,my legs grew weak
I must have swooned there on the dock
the deja vu,the pain and shock
well anyway my job was done,
I found my father's favorite son!
I pray dear God to grant reprieve
To Haitian brother in dire need.
Spirit, instill a strength divine,
Transform his heart as loving Guide.
May healing hands inspire hope,
May grace and love our prayers provoke.
Raise Haiti’s head, with conqu’ring faith
You will prevail, you will prevail. Amen.
October had now come again just like it did back since,
The gunfighter Sam Holt had shot the kid named Benny Pence.
It was on All Hallows’ night with the moon high and blood red—
When Benny came lookin’ for him before he shot him dead.
Why would a fool farm boy try to draw on that gun slinger?
When he had no chance on God’s earth if he raised a finger?
But sure enough on that night, that’s what all the town then saw—
When Benny Pence raised his gun and said the fatal word: “Draw!”
But that had been a year ago come this All Hallows’ Eve,
And Sam Holt felt a cold wind blow that made him want to leave.
The harvest moon now hung above as Sam walked down the street—
He stopped for one brief moment at the place where they did meet.
Then like a dream that voice came back that meekly called him out—
Sam’s cold, sweaty hand then trembled as he began to shout:
“Don’t call me Ben! I’ll shoot you dead, and this time I’ll make good!”
Then Sam wildly drew and fired at the pale moon where he stood.
Somewhere a hoot owl screamed and Sam’s loud shots rang out on high,
As he fired and fired again at Ben’s shadow so he’d die.
But when the gun smoke cleared and that dim vision was not there,
Sam Holt now stood just a dyin’ in the dusty street square.
There were no gunshots in Sam’s body, no marks found at all—
His hair now white, his once ruddy flesh now a deathly pall.
Yet when the town folk buried Sam, they noticed at Boot Hill,
Two other graves marked Pence by the one they had come to fill.
Benny Pence and his brother Bud, had died a year apart—
Both shot down by Sam Holt that feared gunslinger with no heart.
And so the three now rested within gun fire of the others—
Holt now dead of fright from those two departed Pence brothers.
And so each year it happened: other slingers would meet fate—
And die of fright All Hallows’ night when the hour was late.
So now folk knew the story of that fool kid Benny Pence—
Come back to revenge his brother each All Hallows’ night since.
Send me an Angel for me to hold,
One with wings and a halo of gold.
Send me that precious gift I long for,
A smile so sweet and eyes to adore.
Send him here for me to cherish,
Make him kind, loyal and garish.
Send him here with love and grace,
A child whose unique style I'll embrace.
Send me the patience to be a mother,
Hoping he'll love us and his brother.
Not a typical family is what we are,
But we could be much worse by far.
Jordon is the answer to my prayers,
A big brother, for Chris, who truly cares.
Love is what we have to give,
Without my son I could not live.
Thank you God, you've done what I asked.
As a good mother, please tell me did I pass?