Waking up to the depth beyond such things every day
One day I choose to walk and become Queen of Mandalay
In the depth of my ocean mind
I Find my soul diving and trying to unwind
Peer pressure can not handle all the empty space
Avoiding the world's relativistic mass by the human race
Overusing the power giving to me
Sleeping at times disappointed by humanity
I walk in darkness to help you reach the light
I twist the darkness to give you a better sight
Walking at the edge of all things with the ability to precept
Using logic to compare and intercept the emotions we can not accept
With the emotional picture of a fast heart beat
Wiping out the brain waves with a mood in heat
Giving enough flow to the power of intuition
Exceeding the knowledge without the book of Revelation
Receiving the pointless pain in persons chest
A wreck who ignores the emotions to digest
A mood string of self-manipulation eating away at the mass of reality
Some viewers are so unperceptive, a low self-esteem of stupidity
A curse a gift with ability to know everything, illusions of feeling it
with an emphasis so useless you can not admit
Trusting one day came with a price, alerting my ego on strong
Using my energy to direct the purpose of the wrong
Walking like a tool throughout the world's philosophy
A weapon of thought not meant for the mindless or monstrosity
The hidden riddles of life are the ones before your eyes
Grasping the concept with the attention of ending lies in our lives
Proceeding the ethics of the center of one's endless layer
accepting the birth of all responsibility, over the edge of a mind player
I gave the thought with a natural twist of a moving spear
Expanding the horizon of the hemisphere
Edge walkers down and broken standing without
Walking straight forward with the same God and Devil in doubt
Simply looking through "rose colored glasses."
Chaos from the ugliness of avoiding the large body masses
Balancing out the change to allow the flow
follow logical emotions, that destroys a mind blow.
causing the opposite to any action
effect the law of any equal reaction
expect to accept the unexpected, a dull way of life
connect the keeper of the masters weapon knife
with religion comes the weakness of not standing tall
with the strong perception of life even one can fall
Standing without the generations of a crawler
living as a shadow he or she who believes the edge walker
by: P.D. June/6/10
I have a special story I wish to share
About a seamstress beautiful and fair
She would fade away turning into smoke
Of her amazing beauty, no man would joke
The spiraling smoke would then re-form
I know only an angels face could be so warm
Before her a beautiful quilt was spread
Upon it the story of my life was said
As she once again started to dissipate
She said, “Mike this quilt records your fate”
As the smoke traveled over to a new place
And then formed together creating her face
Looking over her shoulder back at me
She said, “This area will hold what has yet to be”
Most of the quilt looked like twisted evil tattoo
Simply because, my life’s quilt was quilted true
I looked the quilt over and then met her gaze
She was so beautiful in so many different ways
The last part of the quilt way over to the right
Showed the beauty of someone changing their plight
Upon her beautiful hand, which seemed so nimble
I noticed she was wearing my grandmother’s thimble
From a young maiden so beautiful to see
My grandmother appeared right in front of me
I guess up in heaven we return to our youth
My grandmother was beautiful; such is the truth
I thought of the price grandma was asked to pay
The shame of knowing I had turned out that way
I thought of her sitting there stitching my shame
My grandmother didn’t deserve an eternity of pain
She said, “Michael be still with the pain in your heart,
Your story encourages others to make a new start.”
“The deeper the wrong the stronger the right
I always knew my boy would take up the fight”
With a smile much brighter than an ice covered sea
She said, “I love the man my boy has grown up to be”
As she turned to the quilt and started to sew
She said, “Michael, its now time for you to go.”
“Believe in your story believe in your truth
For Salvation is the true fountain of youth”
One night in a dream, which I’ll hold forever divine
I learned; my Grandmother is now,” The Seamstress of Time”
When I was a boy I would help my Grandmother roll
her quilt, find her glasses, as well as, her thimble. I
never thought about how amazing her art truly was.
From a pile of rags she would make the most beautiful
quilt's. I sleep under one of her quilts to this very day.
The Luckiest Man
I have found that not everyone is as strong
As the skies are wide and the days are long
But in life I have found there is this one
Whose bounty makes me feel as warm as the sun
And from the moment that she first caught my eye
I knew I’d be with her til’ the day that I die
That I would love and cherish her all the day through
And do all those little things we men are supposed to do
And spend my days lost in utter bliss
That I had this beautiful woman to kiss
And there’s one true fact ‘bout her being my girl
That makes me the luckiest man in the world
Mothers are love you can never replace,
from the day you were born they have that embrace.
Mothers are someone you can always turn to,
when ever you are in trouble and don't know what to do.
Mothers are our healers all the times that we are ill,
it is just how Mother's are,always have and always will.
Mothers are guardian angels who guide us through life,
they are gifts to our Father's to be a loving wife.
Mothers are special and are made just for you,
always beside you when you need help to get through.
Mothers are people who will always be around,
she may not be your blood,but a Mother is common ground.
MOTHERS ARE PRECIOUS PEOPLE
Dedicated to PD:)
Colleen Marie Bono
July 1, 2013
There are times we are left to cope
With situations that drain our hope
Leaving us full of despair
At how some people just don't care
About the evil that they do
To good people like all of you
We are left to somehow face
That in mankind there is disgrace
And those of us left alive
Must find away to survive
As you pick up the pieces of your life
Without your mother, father, husband or wife
And some of you God forbid
Without the love of your kids
We must band together with a brotherhood
Show that in this world there is some good
Because we are together in this deal
We try to help each other heal
We seek in each other good advice
And offer each other sacrifice
We hold each other in prayer and song
As we continue to re-build the wrong
Because what else in the world can we do
Except let the light of good shine through
The evil darkness and despair
Of a catastrophic lack of care
We want you to know you are not alone
Think of America as a giant cone
And all of us are funneling through
Our prayers and hopes to all of you
Posted for Nathan's 9-11 contest
Inside pub steins stout magic spoke
‘neath genie wisps of bangle smoke
Brown cone cigars, deep chubby pipes
Aromatic spills to breach the night.
Music calls to muted songs
Rough knuckles echo Bodhrán drums.
Flute, melodeon, bouzouki*, mandolin
Penny whistles, uilleann pipes, one feisty violin.
Pied piper rhythms, pied piper beats
Bold Celtic persuasions to move proud legs and feet.
To Daver and friendship, thank you!
* Bouzouki...A stringed instrument that could stand up to the volume and intensity of fiddles, flutes, accordions, and pipes.
*uilleann pipes...Irish bagpipes...melodeon. an Irish accordian
Oh imperceptible storm looming mighty as we walk,
secure is its claim as volatile manipulator.
The sun hides behind the insensitive violation,
the rugged moor top grows shapeless within the greyish shroud.
The day gives way to manifestation, illusions cast
as folk stagger habitually along life’s broadway.
My mother clasps a tiny hand, just happens to be mine,
the sun fights back peeps through the cloud, a shaft of light appears.
“One day you and I” she says “Will travel upon that light,
sent down every day for us, this the stairway to heaven.”
So many questions come to mind after these pensive years,
the day I buried my mother, a shaft of light appears!
2nd February 2013
for Seren Roberts contest
. ~ BYE ~
Its time to say bye!
I have no reason why?
This site was fun from day to day.
Poetry came in a fun way of play.
Goodbye to all my friends.
Don't worry this won't be the end.
Maybe later I will be back.
With a better nit knack.
I never believed in writers block.
But I've been accused of hanging out with this flock.
Now I know writers block is true.
I will miss every single one of you.
Later I will explain things in my blog.
How the soup is an addicting hog.
Who knows how long it will take p.d. to post again.
I will always come back and read all my favorite poet friends.
To all my commenter's or he & she that placed me as a favorite poet.
WOW! To all my comments and you know it.
Even the poets I never got the chance to know.
Thank you all for making my poetry grow.
Right now it's time to say bye!
Every now and than I will say Hi!
Everyone sooner or later has to rock & roll.
This is my cue to go!
Always BY; P.D.
She has eyes that have seen all the sky
a smile that is both knowing and shy
Her brow is humble and also proud
Expressions as soft as a shifting cloud.
She is tall and frail like a river reed
Up until now the forest has been her creed
And words that once flowed like a river stream
Now she must search for what they mean
Where once the forest taught her each simple rule
Now she is thrust to study in a Western school
So her body conveys her intentions devout
She stays rooted despite her desire for flight
She absorbs new knowledge like sunlight itself
All her tears are like rain on this hard gained wealth
This shy forest spirit has blossomed and grown
In quiet moments we know where her thoughts have flown
This is my friend's daughter they adopted from Thailand at age 11.
In one year she was speaking fluent English.
She received-american-veterans jrotc-cadet--outstanding-cadet-award/ last year.
Only one cadet per detachment receives the award annually.
She is also a girl guide and on the Volley Ball Team.
I taught her papercrafts and she makes all her own beautiful greeting cards.
She is a true example of a girl rising.
She misses her sister in Thailand who was kept by the family and often thinks of them all
and is torn between the two worlds but understands she has more opportunity here.
~ Linda-Marie The Sweetheart of P. S. ~
When it comes to a friendly hi!
One of the best poetry, hearts we can't deny!
Our Sweetheart Linda Marie
No one is smoother and sweeter than her- our peach tree
Always stopping by to say hi, no matter, rain/sleet or snow
Her contest Zany Zoo, one of the soups best show
A woman who never judged me from the start
Linda Marie, thank you for being such a sweetheart
Sharing her delightful poems, a double doze for me
Oh Me- Oh My- That woman can write so much poetry!
I am sure she is loved by the poetry soup staff
LOL! How this blonde bombshell made us laugh
Remember, when she took her laptop to a sandy Island
She smiled, and shared, how the laptop was damaged with so much sand
Hanging out with Linda, it's like singing "Kumbaya my Lord"-- I felt her holding my hand
How sweet of Linda, when she invited us to meet her new Husband?
Linda Marie is loved by her very own BBF team
Letting us know, life has been more than a dream
Her heart so big, she worried when her BFF's weren't around
Leaving notes, making sure we have not hit a poet break down
She keeps us in her heart when we are not logged in
Her beautiful and clever/witty poem will forever remain
Most of her poetry made me smile
Linda Marie's poetry had so much Style!
We prayed for you when we heard about your son
Thank you for sharing your faith in God. -Linda You're #1
A poet I highly recommend
Linda Marie my poetry soup best friend
~Linda-Marie The Sweetheart of P. S. ~ 2012
~I"M gonna miss you, 2013
Happy birthday to you :-( Don't leave, 2013
(STILL MISSING YOU) Love always, YOUR BFF -- 2014
Sending my Heart, To one of the soups Leading Ladies
RIP. Linda-Marie Bariana You are forever loved
All the little bunnies were lined up for a race. Why, you may ask?
Because the dear old Leader Bunny was stepping down with grace.
He had led the others for years without disgrace, in all pursuits.
He was their advisor, friend, and confidant... solver of disputes.
Such a lofty position was dearly sought by all…from all around.
But he could pick only one to wear that lofty, wonderful crown.
So a race was determined to quickly resolve, the question therein.
And a lovely little laurel crown was offered, to the one who did win.
Now many strategies to win emerged from within the race.
The most common was the notion to set the fastest pace…
A few would use tricks that might hurt, in order to slow others down.
A few were mean, for they wanted the power that comes with the crown.
Two were clever and would catapult each other at the very end.
A few just practiced running to gain the added stamina needed to win.
Only one little rabbit found shoes for the poor, for it was a rocky trail.
And when the race began he helped those hurt in the prevail.
Now the dear old leader had never actually worn a laurel crown.
His had been symbolic; his works had brought him his renown.
When the Leader Bunny gave the laurel crown to he who won the race…
Only a few were surprised, when the little helper won the Leader’s grace…
Though some would go on to complain because he had come in last…
It truly takes someone who knows how to serve, to lead and guide the rest.
But my moral to this story is that…. Regardless what some may think…
It takes compassion to correctly lead…and sometimes the last can be the best…
< Cascading lakes and streams
The loon stands out it seems
Minnesota's state bird
I know it must sound absurd
Adopted in nineteen sixty one
Wails and yodels heard under the sun
Black and white bearing red eyes
Wingspans five feet can make one cry
Body lengths up to three feet
Yet clumsy on lands and moss peat
They are high speed flyers
And great underwater divers
They can dive up to ninety feet
In pursuit of fish they want to eat
They are even on our license plates
An critical habitat drawn on metal slates
Twelve thousand of these unique birds
God that has to be a lot of turds
But for now I'll enjoy it's captured views
Of this beautiful loon and it's most colorful hues
Written By Katherine Stella
Entry For Mini - Blog Beautiful Bird Contest
By Constance ~ A Rambling Poet
Mabuhay, Andrea :D!!!
Such a happy day, guess who's tapping the knocker?
It's lovely Andrea, that's who! My Soup doppelganger!
Why don't you come inside, oh I just love your eyes!
I got truffles, tiramisu and I cooked you a surprise
Better yet, let's stay outside, I just know you love the sun
Let's talk poems, and food then throw in meter for fun!
Here's my surprise,coconut and clam soup, my mom's specialty
What day won't be complete without soup? Just me being goofy :p
Food, friendship, laughter and one of the Soup's best as my company,
I hope this won't just be wishful thinking, but a happy reality!
*** Mabuhay is a typical Filipino greeting, wishing the recipient
"Long Life" and it is also generally used as "Welcome!"
-- sure would love this day to come true though ;)
for Michael's "First Words Over Coffee" contest :D
So much for Adam talking to the Lord.
A conversation I am sure was bored .
Asking God for a women for him to receive.
Little did Adam know his EVE will be so easy to deceive.
"Take a night cap" replied God.
By morning she will own your Hot Rod.
Adam waking up in such nagging pain.
Along came Eve with much to gain.
From Adam's rib Eve was formed.
Nothing is impossible for God to transform.
"Eve my dear I will follow you in everything you beliEve."
"My love for you is sever, thanks for last nights relieve."
Bare naked striped from lies, God gave Adam and Eve his bless.
Walking around in nude allowing them to fell shameless.
"When I was hungry Eve's duty was to feed me."
"How could I say no to the apple against her naked body."
Forgetting about the good and evil.
Eve believed the male, we call the Devil.
"Oh my God Eve what have you done!"
"I am scared like a coward lets run!"
"Eve how could you believe another man?"
"Was his slither easier to understand."
Eve replied,"The snake promised me everything."
"I didn't know he was pulling my string."
"The snake said there is an A in the apple for me to weave.
"With a vision Adam one day you will leave."
"He said Adam is sometimes the I in Eve."
"He will also betray you with his own deceive."
"He said sometimes you will accept me when I conceive."
"Adam it was to much for me to perceive!"
"His tongue mentioned you will cost me to much grieve."
"Believe me he said I will be the only one in achIeve."
Adam says "Eve lets just hide from the Lord."
Eve tells Adam "To late we already pulled the cord."
"Do not worry I will bare it all."
"You will not be there when I call."
"The snake let me see with his crystal ball."
"I will break when you let me fall."
"Somehow you will always make me cry."
"You will drain me, and hang me out to dry."
"Still I will walk with my head up high."
"Knowingly it is my fault for being mislead, this I do not deny."
"For all the things you will ever do to me."
"I will marry you and cause you so much hell you see."
"I will take advantage of all material things."
"Make you buy me the most expensive rings."
"You followed me into our first sin."
"Men are weak when it comes to us women.'
"Yes I will find you in them Gentleman Club."
"Even than you will be a poor little lost wolf cub."
"I am Eve and I doomed us all once."
"I am here to offer my condolence."
"I gave up our happiness and paradise."
"Listening to the snake, on how big it is in size."
4 Daniel Cwiak=Adam
She wades along a bustling Texan street,
A line of roses drifts on like a fleet
While unicorns climb in her head;
Galloping with dreams, refreshed
By softened mist, that eases eyes
To ride the carousel of skies.
She breathes a thrilled wish on Lone Star
As gems pour, showered by centaurs
On nightfall when breeze wisps her hair,
Ringing out tunes with precious care.
Pure magic of horns romp with beats,
Till natal cheers make her complete!
P.D. POEMS CONTEST
by nette onclaud
*dedicated to PD..reach for the moon,
The day I came around the Soup
Texan cutie made me take giant loop
Her way of writing sometimes makes me laugh
Have to adore her like some of us worships the Golden Calf
Call herself pd
Guess that is the way it is supposed to be
Now she has sponsored me with a PM
Thought she was messin`with my brain,that lil`gem
In this game I knew from day one
Give from your heart,or you are gone
I will get what I give,she has taught me
Precious she is that lil`Texan Gold Nugget,called pd
Dedicated to Irma,rocket princess and soup boiler pd.
Love ya as much as a friend can do
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-
The days draw ever closer with my imminent need to leave
With promises to keep and goals to achieve
My ultimate desire is to disappear
But mighty are the binds that keep me here
And so I sat down to write a song
About this place where I could belong
My nirvana, my world and art
Where every little craze tickles my heart
I wish upon a star that is too far
Hoping for a yearn that makes me churn
For this I will strive night and day
To find this place, so I pray
CONTEST: Your favorite poem
~By Carol Eastman~
*awarded 1st place*
Give me vodka, give me rum
I love the feeling of being numb
Give me a glass of Hennessy
I don’t care, just give it all to me
Everything is getting blurry
Why am I so filled with fury?
Alcohol all day and night
The only thing that feels all right
Can’t live without a single sip
I need the taste right on my lip
I killed myself with a dreadful thought
I’m the thing I cursed and fought
Mirror told me all the truth
I saw myself, I saw my youth
I’m filled with sorrow, I’m driven mad
I am just like my dreadful dad
Can I stop it? I don’t know
Addiction throws me back and fro
Alcohol is my fire of lust
Burning me as if it must
Killing my innards, destroying my mind
All because life wasn’t kind
Trapping myself, now I want to break free
Could somebody ever rescue me?
I need to escape; escape this obsession
The hardest thing is fighting addiction
Stuck on a battlefield, this is a war
I’m falling apart; revealing the scars
Alcohol, deadly love, dark passion
I’m crying, raging and battling addiction
SATURN - GOD’S FAVORITE
This floating sovereign rules her black see *
Like an Inquisition bishop - perfect : accepts no plea
No argument no competition,
Watching me watching her in adoration,
Her cold unblinking eye
Reigning the black and silent sky.
Saturn, Goddess of bountiful harvests, of you alone
Unreachable, O favorite of the Lord, in brilliant isolation,
Of beauty pristine and colder than ice,
Is it said * that God doesn’t play dice,
But His spinning gyroscope globe He enjoys :
God’s spinning top - the best of toys.
O bisque queen, gem with halo rings,
Like a dove with wide-spread wings,
Hover like the Holy Spirit, float on the inky blackness,
Send me a message to fill my darkness.
Long in the ether your far-light lingers on high
Before it is allowed to reach my eye;
O Majesty remote cold and beautiful,
Send me the vision of heavenly beauty bountiful.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . ..
Beauty turns me on.
Anyone who has seen the planet Saturn even in a small
telescope cannot fail to be awed by the beauty of the planet.
* A "see" is the territory ruled by a bishop
* The saying “God does not play dice” is accredited to Albert Einstein,
when explaining the workings of the universe.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
As I read the words my heart started to sing
For you had gave emotion to a non living thing
I can't ever remember feeling quite that way
I could hear the music that she used to play
I could feel her heart through the tears I cried
As I read the part where her Maestro had died
I imagined her there in her Rosewood Bed
Reading the most beautiful poem I’ve read
Velvet to her back with her bow at her side
Remembering the joy before Maestro died
She loved how his bow manipulated her strings
Together they were the most beautiful of things
What’s the only poem to ever hang in my den?
Elaine’s beautiful masterpiece titled, "Violin"
Inspired by Tracy's wonderful idea for
a contest and Elaine's beautiful Poem.
Writing is my challenge each day
But it's not the words or what to say.
It is the connection with other writers here
Because I feel I'm not worthy or equal I fear.
The talent expressed by so many others
Often makes me want to hide under the covers.
The gems that are written and ones that I read
Are so inspired, personal, and give me a need.
That's why I come here every time
To see what others have put in their rhyme.
Carolyn always has a message for me to ponder
And others write things that make me wonder.
I often race to the "New Poems" just to see
If by some chance there's one by which P.D has destroyed me.
And Carol, Bob, Nick, Emily, Wilma, and "the Sweetheart"
Write things that sometimes I just can't pull apart.
The Doc has written so many things
I am amazed sometimes at the thoughts he brings.
Others are here who write so well
Their words do me so oft compel.
For like unto them I want to be
Writing words that have meaning for others to see.
Will they be worthy I say when I'm done
Or will they be read by others, as I've intentioned.
You know I feel so many emotions just now
Because of all these writers, I just don't know how.
For they are a driving force for me
And part of my challenge each day is to make them see.
That because of them I have to write
Sometimes into the wee hours of the night.
To pick a favorite writer is...well a difficult choice
So I pick them all, because they shout with one voice.
"Write, you fool, then write some more"
Words I hear and cannot ignore.
So I choose them all...all here in this group
The ones who have made me hungry for Soup.
There, I've said it...and you know that's not in haste
The Soupers that are here are the best of all to taste.
Sailing on a ship of dreams, through a deep and starlit night
The wind softly hums a lullaby, as the sails catch the pale moonlight
Indigo waters fade to lighter hues, when we reach the Morpheus shore
Where the anchor is tossed by a somnolent crew, in the place we are to moor.
The ship settles down in a harbor, cradled between two arms of land
As though lulled to sleep within this embrace, the keel leans upon the sand
The tall mast reaches up to the heavens, to nestle amidst the clouds
While waves gently rock the quiet deck, with each dip of its massive bow.
Troupes of fish dance past the stern, silver scales casting prisms of light
While birds on the shore flutter exotic fans, with no thought of taking flight
Time halts to stand on its tiptoes, strained in balance it tilts and shifts
Then the stars wearily blink their eyes closed, and the tide sets the ship adrift.
The anchor is heaved and hoisted, each link draws a series of sighs
While the captain stands quietly before the helm, gazing at the brightening sky
His eyes crinkle up at the corners, emulating the soft rays of the sun
As Awaken brushes the horizon, with strokes of topaz, sapphire, and plum.
A yawn of breath unfurls the sails, with snoring puffs they billow
As tangy brine streams down my face, drops dew beads on my pillow
Floating thoughts of an uncharted course, bound on the seas of night
Sink as the waltz to the seagull’s song, bows into the morning light.
Dedicated to Evans Mckeil, who gave poetry the voice to sing, and the feet to dance.
My favorite actor I can easily say would have to be Johnny Depp,
When he has a new movie coming out, it puts a spring in my step;
My husband thinks that he’s insane, but that adds to his allure,
Has there ever been another actor that can play in rolls so obscure;
Take Edward Scissorhands for example, who else could pull that off,
There’s not another actor that could, but still my husband scoffs;
So versatile in playing roles from Cry-Baby to Sleepy Hollow,
And I’ll admit while watching scenes in Chocolat, I found it hard to swallow;
I have yet to see another actor who could match Depp in his whit,
Although Alice in Wonderland kind of freaked me out a bit;
The Pirates of the Caribbean movies all had me on my toes,
But Charlie and the Chocolate Factory was a little weird, I suppose;
That having been said, he’s brilliant, No other can compare,
And when I see his picture posted, I can’t help but stop and stare!
~For Amy Green's Choose One, Have Fun Contest~
-My Subject is Johnny Depp-
No, no, you got it all wrong
This is my N song
I love using the N word in everything I do, I am
NO, I am not Sam, I am
I love the N word, when told to google thing
I don't like the N word during the middle of a fling
Many times I use the N word, when asked if I took the batteries
NO, I did no such thing, you crybaby
I use the N word, when my girl needs sUm cash
I'm not falling for that dash
A simple No, to all money grubbers,
I'm not a "YES" man
I'm a "NO" man
On occasions, I love using the F word even more
A woman's scream was the only sound, and so I rightfully put on my crown.
Like a dream, P.D. lasted 11 rounds, but has finally been knocked down.....
Sidney you fought a good fight, but the crown has always belonged to me!
You're a poetic parasite, and have no business calling your write's poetry!!
I have a slithering tongue, sending poetic orgasms throughout your mind.
My words will have you sprung, giving you back spasms as I make love to you from behind!
My word-play is sicker than bird flu, having you beg for a shot of antidote.
I'm branded on your heart like a tattoo, pouring poetic anthrax down your throat!
You had your chance at romance, but had a fear for my love's atmosphere.
I gave you love in advance, but thanks a lot, you wanted no Lancelot, So bleep you
A sick fate, you chose Nate over a poetic heavyweight, so I'll be seeing you later.
Checkmate, your poetry I've come to annihilate, destroying you like a terminator!
So as I raise the title high above my head for all Poetry Soup to see;
A poetic bloodshed it will be, if another poet wants to slam with me!!!
*My fellow poets, i hope you enjoyed this fun write. I love you guys at the soup,
but it's time you guys recognized the slam champ;) "The Poetic Warlock"
Fear not the violent storm
I am comfort safe and warm
Treasure all you hold so dear
Taste the memory of a falling tear
Never forget things of the past
Let their wind fill your mask
Hold your course steady and true
Be the person I see in you
Through out your journey never fear
Know in your heart that I am near
Never more than a whisper away
I'll always hear what you pray
I am the beacon, "The beacon of light"
Guiding you through this stormy night
I realize you are tired and sore
Come maroon your ship up on my shore
And after this storm has had its way
Tomorrow will be a much nicer day
A day for you to sit and write
Of the comfort found in a, "beacon of light"
I'm sorry for the ways I fight,
I'm sorry that I dim your light.
I'm sorry I'm so negative,
That I am so competative.
I'm sorry that I'm so outrageous,
I'm sorry my hurt's so contagious.
I don't want to see your heart eache,
Cuz when I do my heart it breaks.
I'm sorry that I'm not so strong,
But you inspire my hearts song.
I'm not alone cuz now I see,
Your light that's shining just for me.
I'm sorry that I'm up and down,
But, Dear, You win the patience crown.
My love for you's so strong, please see,
A fire burns for you in in me.
I know that It's hard to believe,
But God will help us, just you see.
So many trials seem to be filled up with so much fear
So many ask, “Oh Dear Lord, what am I doing here”?
So many questions that I have come to know
If we just plant a seed, with water it will grow
I have a natural green thumb that now is wasting away
Along with a mind that does love to go out and play
Times I still ask, “How did this all came to be”
What was it that my wife was able to see in me?
She says that my heart was the most beautiful around
It still blows me away, for I clearly remember the sound
Her voice was so soft, her tone was so sweet
I was nothing less than pure evil upon two feet
Had been years since anything had took me by surprise
Ice cold is what the rest of the world had seen in my eyes
I looked at her smiled and laughed in my cold convict way
She smiled and said, “Why you want to be mean anyway”
I told her, “I reckon we are all born to just what we are”
She said, “So why are you a dope cook instead of a star”
That question stopped me right there dead in my tracks
I thought, “This girl is a looker but God she is whacked”
Last night her and I sat out underneath the moon
Two very blessed souls swinging in our sliver spoon
Just a little swing we built together out in our back yard
Place to just sit back and rest after a day long and hard
I once again ask her, how in the world could you ever know?
“My Grandmother was preacher, I could see her in you soul”
Which led me to speak out my truth for I learned to not lie
"My grandmother was also in yours, answering the entire “Why”
Grandmothers we respected and held above all others
Brought each of us together in the land born of lovers
Two Grandmother Spirits full of pure heavenly delight
Led their grandchildren into the valley born of the light
Now here we sit holding each other, each other high above
Because we share in the blessing of our Grandmothers love
Toni and I had lost our Grandmothers before we had ever met
though I knew of hers because she was a very powerful lady
and a down home speak in tongues Pentecostal Preacher that
had great respect up in these parts. After all these years we
confided in each other that we could see our grandmothers in
each others eyes. Thank you and God Bless, MJ
Why; Hello Colin good morning mate
Son, there is no accent in hands of fate
Throw out the tea and chug the beer
Then I bet you find a keg in ere
Everything is a riddle once it is spoke
The tag is from you to me and then some other folk
But who should I choose, I’m here to say
So many beautiful feathers float by my way
Once while I was taking a path from here to there
When I noticed beauty beyond compare
She made me smile and she made me think
Looking at her was like taking a drink
She made me feel good and forget all the rest
I reckon that is a true poets test
The only thing I really did know
What a wonderful beautiful soul
My only complaint of her poetry was the last line
For I was hoping to have just a little more time
Talk of someone who needs no adorning
She plays a huge role in the global warming
For she has a beauty that could melt Glacier Ice
I guess everything wants to see beauty so beautifully nice
So who is the beautiful Angel that I’m speaking of?
Tag Christie Moses your it my love
Colin if I failed I apologize my head feels like it is in a vice
this morning but I wanted to respond. I will keep this poem
and then on a better day I will write a reply to you also. I
feel better guys & gals 0r guy gals & gal guys - One just
never knows anymore. At any rate God Bless you all, mj