I am working with an off-site poetry/prose
publishing project and would like to have you
involved with submissions and subscription.
If interested, contact firstname.lastname@example.org
for details. Simply type "About Info" in your e-mail
subject field (for initial contact, info within the body
of the e-mail is not required, though the magazine's
editors will answer inquiries), and the editorial staff
will get back to you (usually within less than a day).
If you do not want to submit any poetry/prose at
the moment, but would like to subscribe, free of
charge—especially if you would like to read the
published work of some of your fellow Soupers
in future issues of SWITCH magazine; fresh
pieces that are not posted on poetrysoup.com—
type "Subscription" in the e-mail subject field
(aside from selecting the work of people who are
members of poetrysoup.com, SWITCH is not
affiliated with—and transcends—poetrysoup.com;
SWITCH will also be selecting authors who have
no affiliation with poetrysoup.com).
Anyone is welcome to join; to join, one does not
need to receive an invitation.
I vouch for the editorial staff 100%. Information
is dealt with in a secure and professional manner.
If so inclined, one can check for updates at
Edinburgh (the poem that this post used to be)
Sweeping through your scotch broom,
weeping over your cobblestones,
lilting around the columns of Calton Hill,
is an Age of Reason so brilliantly brooding,
some nights I am kept awake
listening to Pendragon's breath caress Arthur's Seat,
and whispers drip from sills on St. Giles Street.
Though roots may drink from a sleepless night,
when morning light creeps through the curtains,
my love for you is renewed.
Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2013
-Dear, Mr & Mrs Poet-
Do you ever question where it comes from?
This poem's about you, sit down and get a load off
Tranquilize your pen, take heed to the ecstatic applause
The things in life we take for granting, in time get worse
From WHICH' our lives transverse, ascends a deep poetic curse
You write almost everything, rehearsing every living verse
Embezzling words, like Martha Stewart, ---NOT YOURS!
Withdrawing from your substance,
--yielding it to others, who aren't devoted lovers
Spacing your lines, ready for reader's digest,
Educating the mind, like Albert Einstein
You paint a different horizon for the color blind,
Drop a note, forecasting the news, that brings, Spring to mind
Your adrenaline, leaves people with a feel good faint.
At this level, Poet you're better than high speed Internet,
Anything that makes you feel this is the real deal,
Today, you write like there's no tomorrow, borrowing yesterday's clay
Inspiring ink, left to right, feeding the need to breed a poetic degree
Your dramatic dialogue, deserve 'The Peoples Choice award."
I love the sweet audio, when you lowercase every word
It's done so well, hell, let's never capitalize another word
Reaching a point across, when capitalizing every letter,
This is your world, take it, manipulate it, with the perfect stanza
Produce it like a poetic film, imagery, action, CUT it like Jerry Bruckheimer
One day Hollywood will incite a roll, looking for the best poetry soup rhymer
Your tears and affection, you pour on partial paper,
Showing every word you want to enunciate
A SHOULDER-- gone cold, drowning, forgetting the normal way
Writing about the pure religion that meets your light,
A beautiful flower under the moonlight
Hear the bells, Poe wrote about, adding sprinkles to the twinkle in your eyes,
A redolent scent not meant to be forgotten, from Eden's garden
Taking nature, by course, granting her a crown, before slamming us down
I will call her out --The evil and the fury of a goddess, a beast
This is my feast, I welcome you to my jungle, and the outer bounds of time.
If you ever question where it comes from?
Sit down and get a load off, listen---Where's the ecstatic applause?
I'm not afraid to say, -----I'm Proud to be A Poet Without A Cause
I do it for fun
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014
I celebrate wonderful mothers
who always put the needs
of their children first,
the single mothers who
especially must sacrifice
to help their children survive
and thrive with little money
coming in, yet finding ways
to make them feel they fit in.
I celebrate mothers who dole
out love in great abundance
and always take the time
to listen to their children's
concerns and problems
with sage advice that comes
from wisdom's experience.
I celebrate the grandmothers
who have stepped in to raise
their grandchildren when
their daughters can't or won't.
These are Earth's angels.
I celebrate the step-mothers
who raise their stepchildren
without any reservation,
loving them as their own.
They've earned a place in heaven.
I celebrate adoptive mothers
who raise their adopted children
with the same acceptance and
love a birth mother bestows.
They are God's gracious gifts.
I celebrate the mothers who have
lost their children, through death,
kidnapping or by any other loss.
Their suffering cannot be gauged.
Let them receive blessed peace.
I celebrate the dear daughter in laws
who have become beloved daughters
as they become mothers to their mother
in law’s precious grandchildren.
I celebrate the foster mothers
who give abused and orphaned
children a temporary loving home.
They have a direct line to the divine.
I celebrate great grandmothers
who continue to teach their
and great granddaughters, by
example, how to be great mothers.
I especially celebrate the homeless
mothers living on the streets, through
circumstances beyond their control,
who somehow manage to
keep their families together.
I celebrate those mothers who live
in impoverished countries who have
starved to make sure their children
have enough food to keep them alive.
Blessed mothers who’ve died for that sake,
and for those who have died giving birth.
I celebrate the time, effort and selfless
love bestowed upon every lucky
child who has been given the
precious gift of a loving mother!
A heartfelt Happy Mother's Day to all!
© Connie Marcum Wong
Poem of the Day for Monday 11 May, 2015
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2015
Visited you today
as the sun set in the horizon…
the orange tinged carnations
were a perfect complement
for the skies
and for you…
orange and blue
always remind me of you
the winds softly blew
and I just sat there
staring at the grass,
well more at your name really…
what I am looking at,
that it’s been seven years
of missing you,
of just putting that reality
at the back of my mind…
But there are days,
such as today
which make me
confront that reality—
I see your smile,
remember your laughter
celebrate your spirit
and your love
Tears, I tell you I have
the most stubborn tears
maybe because they
make it so real for me?
I look around me
and look for that sign
Nope, not there…
I say a prayer
and speak to you
thankful for the life shared
I kiss the date that you were born
and walk away
my reflection on the car window
One last look around,
and then I see it…
a cat, as we drive away…
Skies now streaked purple and pink
**My brother would have been 40 today, May 6…
Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2011
Though we’ve never met
I comprehend your beautiful words
I feel your pleasant persona
Never a mean word to be said
I ache from your kindness
Making others feel ten feet tall
Picking me up when I may fall
Talent beyond compare
Are you brunette or fair?
But that wouldn’t matter to me
If I never had the chance to see you face to face
Your wonderful personality I could never forget
You’ve help build a community of friends
Steady and true
I wish you peaceful skies of cobalt blue
Fields of flowers brushed in rainbow colors
I pray for love from God above
For you and your family beloved
Know that you touched lives that may not have been touched
You changed someone
And brought me a new reason to write
You’re an inspiration and a friend
And you’ve touched my heart polite
Gratitude pours forth
Written for and about Sharon Weimer !
Copyright © Laura Mckenzie | Year Posted 2009
He sees the rose in her cheeks
She sees the wrinkles of time in her mirror
He sees the long, flowing brunette of her shining hair
She sees wisps of grey, dull hair that she can't manage
He sees shine and twinkle in her blue eyes
She sees her reflection through corrective lenses
He holds the soft, smooth hand that wears a gold band
She feels him squeeze her weathered, gnarled hand
He sees her running through the garden to greet him
She feels the pain, as she walks with her cane to meet him
He sees the girl he met and loved at seventeen
She sees the love of her life
He sees through rose colored glasses
She adores him
Dedicated to my grandparents
Contest Entry, 'Love Me Tender' sponsored by Miss Kristin Reynolds
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2009
Lost in a poets convention,
I can't recall every poem, I've read through the years
50518, unique comments I 'validate'---
Thank You For Sharing Your Happy and Sad tears
Since March 24, 2010 In the mist of every line,
I'm sending special hugs, for he/she that favorite me through the years
A praise to all poets mentioned and not mentioned
I will miss, the sweetest girl on this block LEONORA G.,
She treats me with love, adores my words and twisted poetry.
I will start with the soups famous October, 7th babies,
Frank and Kash, Debbie D, and myself, these lines belong to us,
Our best characteristic has everything to do with the mind
In our poetic hearts you'll find the symbol of justice and balance
This is not a song, it is not a poem, it's a free falling memo written with style
Back in March 2013, I said it then, I'll say it again
Andrea, you and only you are the Poet Queen
By the Queen, sits the Poet King of rhymes, Robert L. Hinshaw
Thank you both for never stepping on your loyal subjects
Carol B., & Linda Marie, no one can replace the hole you left inside
I will miss all the little poetry pups, who came and sat by my side
MAHIMA and Saanvi, and Sabrina, thank you for the encouragement
Phyllis, Joyce, Francine, Rhonda, Betty, sweet Karen A., and Catie,
Clap your hands for the lovely quiet soup ladies.
Okay, maybe not Karen A., and Catie, these ladies love speaking their minds:)
SARA K., a mentor to some, a Fairy Godmother in my book
I will miss her "Magic Pen like Wand" dearly.
Gail, thank you for spreading your wings, and teaching us how to fly.
Hopefully --wings are a nice gesture, --waving--
"One day I'll see you again, my friend."
Daver Austin, "Go ahead, make my day" thank you for the show
Now, you know why I referred to you as, "The Clint Eastwood of Poetry."
Russell Survey, encouraged my days and moods with his kind words
Scribe ML., where are you my friend?
Don't you know your BIGGEST FAN misses you!!!
Dr Ram, Bindu V, Litan D., Donna J, Shadow, Sandra A., Peter Durgan,
Giorgio V., Mystic Rose, BL Devnath and of course our Nette.
Thank you for being kind and rewinding and replying to every note.
Joseph M., Caleb S., Vincent F., Juliet L., Lucy Carrillo, Scott 37, Johnny R.,
Kelly D., thank you for the honor in always honoring my words
Roger Horsch meets Eileen Ghali, your smile, her smile always made me smile,
No matter how many miles apart, our smiles always met on the same page.
Jenish, Don J., S.Z. Kamoonpuri, Gideon, Gary, Austin E., and Jody M.,
Fatima N., Mark N., Aiyah B., Ralph F., Kathryn C., Elly, Ayesha A.,
Clay W., Erich, Syam, MIKKI, John B., Olusegun, *Sukmawati* Gwen,
Delysia H., Frederic P., Richard L., Brenda L., Keith, Debbie G.,
Thank you for painting the best IMAGERY
Michale Clarke, Charma C., Wayland B., Jancarl C., Carrie, and Harry,
M&M, Abdulhafeez, Michael B., Maria P. S., CHAN and Mandy T.
You are only the beginning of what makes this a good community
Arlid A., Dinda M., Silly Billy, Tim Ryerson, we go way back.
Ravindra, Kim M., Richard S., Honestly JT., Wade A., Dom-X.
The ingredients in your poems, makes the best soup remix
Joe M., Jack H., James H., James P., Tim B., Jon A. C., Allan K., Matthew A.
Deb Wilson, David S., David William, Thomas S., Cecilia M.
Keep that pen flowing for tomorrow needs poets like you.
Justin B., Laura B., your words will continue to be a part of me.
Owen Y., and John L., your visits, your friendship I will never forget
Yasmin and Carl F., hanging out with you on the soup was the best.
Cherl Dunn, and Colleen Bono, SandyIvy, I will miss everything about you,
Mostly I will miss your friendship and the way you took care of me.
Poet and sister Skat, keep rocking what I can't....
Copy paste your love, welcome in the new.
Show Edwina, Robin, Sam B., and all the NEW POETS they belong
Last but not least-- Behind every mess, they are the best
--Craig Cornish and Cyndi McMillan
What have you done, I admit without you this place would have been no fun.
Thank you for the spin, making every penny worth our paid premium memberships
Before I forget,
I want to take this time to reminisce and add two old friends to my hot list.
Nikko and Chris A..... My first POETRY SOUP FRIENDS.
I will never forget you, and all the fun moments we had,
Back when the soup was not like this:)
Chris, can you ever forgive me, I never stepped up to say "I was Sorry!"
As you know my kindness is my weakness
Now it's time to be strong and move on
If one day I return, then you know, I fell off the wagon
And, into arms and luring fingers of Team Poetry Soup
The Poet Destroyer
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014
Welcome New Poet To Poetry Soup,
I offer you a warm smile, in hopes you come back another day.
From the moment I spot your name on the new poet list,
I roll out the welcome mat, in hopes you will stay
I am not afraid of you, I will approach you to say hello
I will Annoy you until you stop by and say "YELL-OW!"
Please have patience, when my ink has no flame
Don't be intimidated by The Poet Destroyer's name,
I'm sweet looking like a lollipop and fun like a kitten
"Warning!" Don't get too close or you'll be smitten,
You can choose to adore or instigate petitions of envy
When it comes to PD
Even then I am a friendly poet, protected by God's loving levee
It's time to introduce myself, call me Linda or PD
Unless, you're in constant warfare for the dominance of poetry
Then by all means, express yourself retard-ly
Verbalize my name, in any which way you like
Call me The Poet Destroyer, when tapping the mic
All though many here know I'm more of a Poet Supporter
A comment crusader, a poetic hoarder
I have no shame in my game,
I give, I love, I treat everyone the same
Unwind, Enjoy all the Xoolness coming to your direction
Inspiration, Contest, Friendly Poets, Poems, and Dedications
I am not a mentor, I'm not a preacher advocating the perfect poem
I am me, original as can be, in time you will seek out my troupe
Reminiscing, over the time I was your first,
Regale with loving respect, don't judge my hunger and poetic thirst
To all new poets I promise, I'll be faithful and follow you like a star
Unless, you forget to put gas while side showing in my crystalline car
Don't worry, New Poetic Poe, I got your back
Taunting you with a copy paste smack
Call it a "--Statement--" call it what you want
I call it, Love From PD, enjoying the community
With a simple hello, and peace out spree
CONGRATULATIONS, to all who made it through the years
Ain't nobody here worth more than you and your poetry
Take this time, and introduce yourself my new friend
Remember New Poet:
If it weren't for you, this place would be 2005 all over again
Always & Forever
Age Of Poet Destroyer
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014
When my final shadows cling on desperately
Where I fight formidable battles
to merely hold the light
I send you loving vibrations
and soul sustenance
Deep from the cathedral
of one heart to another
where today no choirs sing
nor symphonies play
Yet it is here where we meet
in spiritual solace
here to surrender
and exchange inestimable treasures
like unopened letters
Galaxies are stretched
over chronicles of shared history
Nebula birthing stars
will be exposed
in forth-coming conversations
bringing short-lived fulfillment to you
Hungry to feast
now will be the time
to approve your blood art vision
and with my own haunting surrender
as dappled shades ink stain your chest
I will reside with you and share, mesmerised
pens - by branding
as this will be your written reams to me
your artist's pallet or brushed canvas
no need for words
and yet creating
mysterious magical moments
Bitter-sweet the music
that dances taut guitar strings
but now blood approved
please go kick your heel up
return to your laughter
and ride on the breeze
for not all are lost
for I am with you always
to love, listen and comfort as one
with you in me and I in you
Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty | Year Posted 2013
Authored by Chuck Keys
It had no color,
Lacking shape, size and dimension.
It wasn't moving or breathing.
There was neither aroma nor taste, not here or there.
Touching was useless because it wasn't physical.
It was indistinct and limitless.
Multi-sensually and multi-psychologically
It wasn't here or there and it was.
With no distinction,
It looked like everything else,
Or it could not have looked like everything else.
It never made me feel good nor bad,
Nor happy nor sad
Nor quite nor trite.
In our world of joy and destroy, we sort and distort,
Looking more on the surface and less on the inside,
Ready to judge and be judged from outside in.
The "oneness" of mankind stretches beyond definitions and limits,
From outside to inside and from inside to outside.
We are one distinct and alike world of "oneness."
Differences exist for differences,
Therefore, differences don't exist.
Only "oneness" exists.
This poem is dedicated to Dr. Clayborne Carson and The Gandhi-King Community,
For Global Peace with Social Justice in a Sustainable Environment.
Copyright © Chuck Keys | Year Posted 2010
See the woman.
See the face behind its age.
See the beauty of her form.
See the way her way becomes her.
See past her once taught skin, as it was
when it enflamed many a man.
See the way she holds her head;
the tilt of her neck, the ease
of her being.
See the strength that binds her jaw,
unrelenting in its flex.
See her hurt displayed, as shadows
fall like night upon the earth,
eager for rest and resolution -
for the one she could not save.
See her darkness. See it very well.
See it shatter like glass, glinting,
when she giggles like a girl.
See her shine.
As the shades of dark days rise,
See the years that grace her eyes,
like rays of her own sun
exponentially shining forth.
See forgiveness in her patient hands
as they weave memories with a touch.
See the breadth of her breasts,
for they have quenched her children’s hunger,
soothed their frantic cries,
and became the safe haven for her beloved.
See her empty, scarred abdomen –
round and perfect in its imperfections,
once holding the essence of all things;
carrying creation within –
see the divine home of God.
See the innocent baby,
the impetuous youth,
the voluptuous woman,
the devoted wife,
the selfless mother.
See the wisdom of the grandmother –
the epitome of every moment lived
for someone else, and the realization
of the circle.
Hear the acceptance in her sigh.
See the gifts she has given –
see the woman!
See the goddess!
The beginning and the end!
See the infinite that bares the name,
See her for all that she is and isn’t.
Smell her scent and know you are home.
Taste the strength of her words on your tongue.
Hear her experiences like your own.
To touch her soul is to touch perpetuity!
See her face in your mirror.
See the tears that fall proudly
upon the woman you’ve become,
and hope yet to become
when you have lived through all that has been
set before you –
tasted each woman’s tears as if they were your own.
When you enter that perfect union,
when you become,
when you come
you will see yourself in all things,
and your journey, will see you back
*Reposted for Chris's Get Your Rebel On, Contest! This was written with my Beautiful
Grandmother in mind. She saved my life in more ways than one. love you, Gran. This one's
for you. (and every woman, and woman lover, here)
Copyright © Kristin Reynolds | Year Posted 2009
Many years ago
They stormed the Bastille
Two hundred and one lost their lives
The tennis court oath however survived
Jacques had his heart with the masses
Necker could not be dismissed so easily
The storming of the Bastille was to be
The birth of a nation for all men free
And free men they were
Running naked through the streets
What they lacked in cake
The made up with in red wine
The Republique was born
A democracy in infancy
Would grow through trials and tribulations
To become a multicultural great nation
Lone angry men filled with such hate
I welcome you to Bastilles’ gate
Of medieval prisons long ago
It is there, you I shall throw
You kill in the name of a God
A God you do not know
Love has escaped from your very soul
Only hate tarnishes your bitter heart
The ghosts of Bastille are mocking
The coward who is filled with such animosity
There never shall be an escape
The soul of the dead shall eternally taunt you
A criminal with no compassion
You have only given us our determination
To battle for the peace of this great nation
You bring us tears; alas we shall turn them to wine
Naked through the streets we shall always dance!
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016
In the past, my country
cradled me in her bosom.
Today, I held her in my arms,
felt her slip away.
I lost my country today:
gave her up to synthetic medicine,
and pie-charts, overseas.
I prayed while watching attempts made
at her resuscitation—
impatient hands held out pens,
prodding me to fill in the proper forms.
The world is on lithium.
My country was on lithium;
for her, vibrant colours turned
into a monochromatic spectrum of grays.
In the end, her heart gave out
from having spent too many decades
within a capitalistic cage.
She had an organ donor card—
her organs were sold off one-by-one
while she was still alive.
Her organs were replaced
with nationalistic flags,
and roaring stadiums.
Men from every standing,
groped Motherland's body.
Many men had laid with her.
Oh, how they did.
At least some men displayed decency,
graced her with loving caresses;
they were few, between the rape
that led to miscarriages,
and live-births of degenerates
Lithium is slipped into my drink,
so I purge daily,
horrified by my country's overdose.
She looks decrepit, laid out in the morgue;
a cardboard tag hangs from a big toe
like a foreclosure sign.
I will have to give her a proper burial
within my heart,
for they are going to have Mother embalmed,
encase her in a glass coffin,
and put her on display.
Our Mother passed away,
yet her corpse-land remains behind.
I will walk across clear-cut ridges
and through neon-lit distractions
as a gypsy vagabond.
From now on, the territorial lines
mean nothing more to me than rules to follow,
maintained by a system turned empty-hollow.
I lost my country today:
gave her up to synthetic medicine,
and pie-charts, overseas.
As I held her in my arms,
I felt her slip away.
April 30th, 2012
Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2012
She who sends waves touching beautiful warm and gracious words
Draws bright sunshine smiles in our hearts as they sing in her grace
Flowing from the heart her beauty held in her Quill ready to write
Pure diamond sparkling rainbows as a true friend is a friend in deed
The tidal wave raises fine soaked sand from the bottom of the ocean
And the waves curl out pearl white reflecting a most Picture Perfect
Image that is truly splendid and always sublime to behold and cherish
As Nature’s soft wind caresses your aura and inspires your next poem
She who sends these very waves touching beautiful personifies a Muse
So rare, so special—and brings her influence and talents to bear in
Masterfully supporting the efforts of fellow poets and dreamers as they
“Spill Ink” on blank pages late at night crafting their next poetic masterpiece
The very power and wonder of her good works and positive influence are
Always there magnificently arrayed like pure beams of sunshine touching
And dazzling all in her reach quite profoundly with the magic of her thoughts
And the quiet courage of her convictions as the simply wonderful poet she is
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem (Free Verse Poem),
November 26, 2014
NOTE: Written in Honor of Anne-Lise Andresen for Her Fine Poetry and For
Her Continued Professional Support and Encouragement of Other Fellow Poets.
Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2014
"Made In China"
They can have my money
If it saves me money
The toys I played with when I was young,
Says I enjoyed their hands
The Labels read
"MADE IN CHINA"
The cheap material on my back, the shoes I wore.
How easily they faded and tore
However, I enjoyed their hands
The Tags on my rags;
"MADE IN CHINA"
The car I own saves money on gas
A tiny Honda Civic, takes me everywhere
I love my sweet silver car
"Manufactured in China"
The never been used--Made in the USA--cookware I own,
Says, I don't work hard at all:)
Yummy to Chinese all you can eat take Outs
Thank you China for being part of this world
Thank you China, for making this world a part of yours.
MADE IN CHINA
Shipped easily in a box
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2013
Before the abyss, I had it all
Letting go of all I see
My friend, I hope our time won't end
It took a short time for you to notice
Without knowing who I am
We talked, we became friends
Connecting the dots, missing every line
Connect them and figure me out
Randomly it comes your way
Underneath a never known chemistry
Ask me to stay and I may
Grinding your teeth into my way
Cut out my eyes, and store them up
A tongueless mouth, nothing to say
Maybe by tomorrow you will forget
Losing myself in my own conversation
Hiding behind my one big regret
Don't know, Don't care
You had me open up
A book I closed, knowledge lost
No need to see
A mystery called deception
What I am cannot be seen with the naked eye
Along came you using your *ucked* up perception
The ability you miss use
making sense of this connection
A process you carry with your own patterns
You asked, you listened, without making assumptions
A taste to take off my shoulders,
To release an error locked in my Asylum
I myself am enjoying the insights about him
He's got me convince, using his perception
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2010
Men, they say
We have been subjugated by their culture and rules
The norms and the religions of masculine fools
The laws and the clowns
The world one day will evolve
We who have the curves and seductive smiles
Are we not filled inside with the same DNA? so they say…
Give us books and untie our bonds
We shall rise up, making empires strong
Mock not my dashing eyes
Discount not, my luscious thighs
I shall dance your dance into the night
Have no doubt; I shall be your queen
When we are embraced, for who we are
Do you not see? We shall gleam like the stars in the night
Genders, colors, nations too
Leave them sitting in old church pews
Philosophers, doctors, engineers of creation
We shall be side by side, working with you
So smile and behold the new golden age
Suras must die, in the deserts of past sage
Sisters of the sun, the gods, and the wind
The old men of the past must rescind
Glories are coming, so rejoice and behold
Equality is the greatest story a woman ever told
Poet George Sand Notes
Excerpt from letters to Gustave Flaubert Nohant from George Sand
Amantine-Lucile-Aurore Dupin, wrote under the pseudonym name of George Sand
She was born in July, 1804, and is more known as a writer, but many of her prose by today’s standards are very poetic in nature. She was a feminist long before the term existed. She was very able to converse and discuss with men, as equals, and at the same time able to maintain all that makes us beautiful. She was able to see the finest details of life as well as absorb the political and cultural idiosyncrasies of the time, and had no fear saying her own views.
To be an inconvenience distresses me
I sleep everywhere, in the ashes, or under a kitchen bench, like a stable dog.
Everything shines with spotlessness at your house
So one is comfortable everywhere.
I shall pick a quarrel with your mother and we shall laugh and joke, you and I,
much and more yet.
If it’s good weather, I shall make you go out walking, if it rains continually, we shall
roast our bones before the fire while telling our heart pangs.
The great river will run black or grey under the window saying always, fast, faster! Carrying away our thoughts, and our days, and our nights, without stopping to notice
such small things.
"The beauty that addresses itself to the eyes is only the spell of the moment; the eye of the body is not always that of the soul."
Copyright © Aurore Severo | Year Posted 2015
Tell me that this fear is just paranoia in my mind,
we're not straining, we're not struggling,
we're not sinking, we're just fine.
I'm not perfect my dearest, but damn have I tried,
and I'll try harder but I know I'll have the same results every time.
Do you want me all the ways that I am?
With all the struggles and the tears and the clinging to your hand.
I fear your getting further and Im left on the shore to stand,
watching you in the distance with a bullet in my hand.
Tell me all this worry, its just clutter in my mind,
tell me not to worry that we're doing just fine.
Cause Im scared to run you off and I feel Im falling deep.
And Im so frightened of these thoughts that its getting hard to sleep.
All I know is that the heart wants what it desires,
because of you the match inside has turned into a fire.
And I feel the broken glass thats sticking from my skin,
Wondering if you'll remove the pain or push it back in.
My hearts frantic wondering if you feel the same,
pleading and begging for more than just a saying,
but to feel and to see that im not alone,
with being in this love thats overwhelming.
Once I told you that we didnt have a spark,
but you were lighting up and I was sitting in the dark.
And this fire, this blaze its wrapped in desire.
Im terrified to lose you, I think I might die or,
maybe disappear from all the pieces falling out,
im going crazy but when i open my mouth, nothing comes out,
and I cant explain to you why I just need to hold you close,
why every time you leave Im scared to let you go,
why these tears are building up behind my eyes,
all I know is that the heart wants what it desires
and it desires to be your wife.
So tell me in my panic, that your words are true,
tell my my dearest what I mean to you,
tell me that this paranoia is all within my mind
we're not struggling, we're not sinking tell me we're just fine
Copyright © Jay Loveless | Year Posted 2013
Struggling through the Great Depression
Growing up fatherless in the care of a loving aunt
Losing her husband, his weary mother could not cope
Working for the Civilian Conservation Corps
Trying to support his family
Attending school at night to provide a better life
Playing his sax and clarinet
Resounding notes of joy cast blessings
Filling our home with happiness many children never know
Loving eyes and deep, gentle voice
Drawing admiration from all who came to know him
Speaking softly, never in harsh tones
Accepting life’s challenges
Forgiving when his children seemed ungrateful
Nurturing, caring, standing by our sides
Picking us up when we fell
Offering support in every endeavor
Being the kind of father he never had
Teaching us to work hard and achieve
Reminding us that life offers no guarantees
Encouraging us to rebound from challenges as “come-back kids”
Gathering at his hospital bedside New Year’s Day 2009
Astonishing nurses with the depth of our love
Never leaving his side, three grown children rested hands upon his
Lingering six days in a coma, perhaps his soul already in heaven
Speaking to him, hoping he could hear
Wanting him to feel our love one last time
Siblings who rarely agreed
Concurring just this once
Feeling blessed by our father, the brightest star we see in heaven
* Dedicated to my father, Arthur Schwarz, who died January 6, 2009
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010
For Linda, Freddie, Chan, & others that meant something true to us…
Another wistful teardrop
Embracing yesterday’s candid goodbye
No longer can we touch their physical soul.
Can keep amnesia’s accented clef at bay
Holding their voice beyond new tomorrows
It is the triangle of life’s conundrum
When we slow dance with the arms of Why
The breaths of How
The misunderstood elegance of inevitabilities
We are taught the 2 guarantees of life: Death & Taxes
Yet, only one really means more to us
Within sunrise’s incipience
We hold convex reflections with incandescent sadness.
Yet, time allows opportunity to fly higher than God’s perspective
EVEN through our limited wisdoms
While we cherish
The Candles in our wind
I whisper silent prayers for our friends, family, & colleagues that now SOAR WITHIN!
For they may no longer be in front of you & I...
And always shall be
©Drake J. Eszes
I was honored to have Chan on our Stand As 1 show back in March 2014. It was a deeply memorable show. You can listen to how it all went down here: http://www.blogtalkradio.com/standas1/2014/03/16/stand-as-1-returns-wspecial-guest-that-archaic-poet
Copyright © Drake Eszes | Year Posted 2014
I praise him
I kneel before him
I lay and pray and go to sleep
Knowing his eyes are upon my dreams
Like incense that runs, through the air
He seems to rule and flow through my night sky
Like a GOD!
He holds my love in his hands
Gave me the will to be strong
He's more than my shelter
He's more than my guided stars at night
He holds me in his fist so tight
Like the sanity, that keeps me together
He's the warmness of the light through the night
With his GODLINESS!!
In the arms of his temple,
He allows me to sit on the right side of his throne
With his presence by my side, I never feel alone
He healed my sadness with the flow of his veins
He healed my rage, and gave me the gift of serenity
You're my GOD!
No one will never know what I feel for him
All the blessings that I have,
Came since the day I found him,
Now I have my very own GOD!
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2011
I know first hand the
pain in your heart,it
will be okay,soon you
can make a fresh start.
Your grandson Beal will
be watching over you,and
he knows everyday how
much you love him to.
Sometimes GOD does things
that we don't understand,
but he created your friends
to lend a helping hand.
Reach out to the people
that are here on the soup,
they help through hard times
and are a wonderful group.
There are to many to name
as this you know,
they will take you by the
hand and won't let go.
It will be okay and
soon you will see,
the new joy's in life
and how happy you'll be.
You will get through this it just takes a little time.
Love your poet friend,
Colleen Marie Bono
April 11, 2013
Copyright © Colleen Bono | Year Posted 2013
Can you see them run to me – arms wide and laughing,
calling me, Mama: keeper of the stars, moon and hearts?
Can you see them kiss away my pain, healing every hurt
that’s ever marked me broken, dead or dying?
Can you see them hurt me? When they curse me, flay me;
ground me with their unformed anger and bravado-uncertainty
until they fly behind doors, crying over what they’ve said –
wishing they could take it back?
O’, does that pride HURT!
It stabs the chest and holds…holds…holds.
Can you see them behind doors and feel their wishful hearts burn?
Can you feel them loving me through it all?
Love is not something easily hidden. Love like that breaks down doors –
sees through them.
Can you see my tears; feel the weight of them on your cheeks?
They are yours.
Where you are (past the furthest/closest door) can you see me in them?
Can you see the love I kept hidden in my dark and painful dungeon?
You never knew what he did to me – but deep down, I blamed you anyway.
There was only you left, you see; always you.
Can you see, I'm just like you?
If you can see me, you know.
And if you can hear me crying through this God Damned pen (all those notes –
all those written sorry’s slipped beneath doors - you must have known that
even at 37, I’d write you my heart in a note!)
You, Gran/Mother, are my one and only regret.
That for 7 years, I treated you like a burden, a bother, and a barrier.
I treated you like you should have treated me – an unintentional intruder;
like something taken, not given.
But worse than that, I treated you like an acquaintance.
Knowing how badly that must have hurt you, makes me want to be kicked in the face
until I am unrecognizable; to the rest of the world, and myself.
But life’s not like that, is it? No. You knew that, too.
My baby boy has your nose, ears, and eyes.
Do you think that if I whisper in his ear tonight while he sleeps (between you and me –
at the doorway), you could hear me?
Tonight, I will whisper love in his perfect ear (pressed up against heaven’s door) -
maybe you will hear me say,
“Indy…Gran, I’m so sorry. If you can hear me, please give me a sign so I will know
you’ve heard me. I want to see you smile again – just one more time…please…
let me know that somewhere, behind the door, you forgive me…”
And in the darkness of his bedroom; the moonlight covering his small face
like an angel’s kiss, the baby boy in her likeness, smiled.
Copyright © Kristin Reynolds | Year Posted 2009
Blowing a kiss to you as
the rain, leaving
the inner works
Inhaling and Exhaling
Among the palm of ones
hand, the diminutive,
about the daystar.
as one blows a kiss to you.
Dedicated to Doreen Wright
Copyright © Pace INK-U-SCRIPT | Year Posted 2012
I met them once I landed in a place,
they called it haven, a soiree place.
Where people are nice,kind and cool.
Some are young, some are....never mind.
They're awesome people!
I first met this blonde lady,thought she's only twenty.
She did refused, said she's almost a mother to me.
I beg to disagree,'cos she's more than just a mom.
She's a bestfriend, she's wonderwoman.
She lives in Norway,Anne Lise Andresen was her name.
There goes a new avatar,who came to visit on my land.
She's wearring sunglasses,but can't hide the beauty from behind.
Then I found out lately, she doesn't just own a pretty face.
She is the sexiest and hottest momsie,rockin' up poetry.
She's a real poet master,SkAT A.,that's her name!
One day I sat down and read some poetries,
So delightful,inspiring, and awesome pieces.
I got struck to what I've found.
A Filipina who's writing with charms,
Her poems are incredibly great,
She's Nette Onclaud, the goddess poet!
I came to land another page, thought at first that's a cage.
Of a tigress with full of angst and strength.
I must admit, though I was afraid, I admire all the pieces she had made.
She left the table and threw the soup,and think tha'ts the last time I'll see her poem.
But with revenge she went back home, and send me greetings that I treasured.
With friendly comment I came to know, this tigress is tame and a sweet person.
Who is she?...the everbody's love and favorite, Poet Destroyer!
As time goes by, and my journey went long.
I had to passed in different stations.
I came to know so many beautiful people,
So kind and thoughtful, their arts are treasures.
There came to visit my poem one day,
Though full of greiving,they cheered me so well.
They are Mary Jo ,Eileen, F.J. ,Vie and Shadow.
The women who are pride of this site.
The pretty ladies who always been there to lift you high.
Above all these awesome experience,
Is to know the people from my own motherland.
My country fellas, so sweet,cool and nice.
They are the crystal flowers glisten brightly like a star.
They are Leonora, Maria Paz, Nikko and Carole...
My day became brighter, you light the path I walk.
Everytime your greetings knock on my door.
Allow me to do the honor to thank you guys.
And let you all know how thankful I am.
My dream has came true, because of this site.
Copyright © Aiyah de Torres | Year Posted 2014
When I am all alone
all I do is to think of
you my Love day and night all long
and on a silvered fluffy clouds
I go waffling along to you
filled with joyful dreams
of you and I my darling
and softened the misty
moon and the dotted stars
from heaven above seem
to stretch out their regal arms and
singing sweet lullabies of love
they sing to me of you
and how much my love I just
adore your face and your
heart of gold
with all my love for you like
eternal shining stars
from heaven just dancing for you
with all my heart thinking of
And up above a crimson sky
and clear blue sky my true love
for you just soars to your inviting arms
and with a very sweet an passionate kiss
our hearts will be singing
angels sweet lullabies of love songs
as warm waves of only love
for you so sweetly will go just up
and down with you just dancing
forever and ever in a true soulful
passionate kiss my love.
Dorian Petersen Potter
Copyright © Dorian Petersen Potter | Year Posted 2014
Does the past really matter?
Does it set you free?
I’m absorbed in the sin,
That is surrounding him and me.
Lost in the curiosity,
Cold to the touch.
Drenched in the poison,
With my dignity in his clutch.
Feeling like I was cheated;
I chose the evil instead of light.
I traded in the sunshine,
For what lurks in the night.
I disobeyed his orders,
I gave up security to be unsure.
I went against the warnings,
Gave into darkness instead of remaining pure.
Once my bed was made of soft grass,
But now it is made of stone.
Was plump from all of the luscious fruit,
Now I’m starving to the bone.
My curse is one of circumstance.
The punishment a crime,
I’m stuck inside this dampened cave,
For the rest of time.
My world came crashing down,
The grief has not subsided.
My heart broke completely,
When my sons collided.
My misery a token,
From the abandonment I earned.
Upon the time spent in sorrow,
There was a lesson to be learned.
Have I found the moral?
Only in time we shall see,
For all I did was eat an apple-
From the Knowledge tree.
Copyright © Alyssa Waters | Year Posted 2013
I tried folding a paper crane again the other day
and it didn't turn out right
tracing back my folds,
I knew I missed somewhere
unfolding, re-creasing, refolding
just tracing my fingers back
feeling the paper
A three-minute fold
times 10 now
Even if I needed to do other things,
I paid no mind, determined to fold that crane
I had to get this right.
I had to.
As it turns out,
I only missed one step,
--something to do with its wings, I believe...
Amazing how a single step
could be so important.
Stretching its wings now,
the paper crane
soars proudly on my palm...
In refolding this paper crane,
I hope I never forget...
Amazing how easily things slip from our minds,
but more amazing
is when our hearts Do remember.
and then we Do something...
...I have hundreds of paper cranes yet to fold,
it may be taking me far longer
than what I had initially planned...
but yes, you are in my thoughts,
you are in my prayers...
and I shall continue folding these cranes.
...I revel in the thought, for that moment,
when I can send them flying towards the Sun...
Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2012
our beloved brother from India
Dr. Ram’s words are better than gold
board his magic carpet
woven with wit, intellect and insight
soar through sagas steeped in mythology
captivating revelations on cultural tradition
unique perspectives on historical events
clever concepts conveyed with humor
psychology, philosophy, behavior observations
materialize as “Mehtaisms”
stirring the soup
adding spice to the broth
supporting work of members new and old
our international melting pot
enriched by the work of a Literary Doctor
salute a special sage who graces us with gifts
Dr. Ram’s words are better than gold
* Dedicated to Dr. Ram Mehta in honor of Joe Maverick’s “Better than Gold” contest
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011
How like a tempest
It rages through my brain
The sound of wild rain
and making love in spontaneous
Sparks fly from the flames
red and burning in the night
A thunder crash inside my head
I feel the lightning stab the cracks
of my heart…. rarely seen….
and far from caressed
Magnificent and virile
Pulsating and sexy
A raw thrash of tenacious
tough notes that glide
and ripple like liquid sunshine
A heavy dew of crystal showers
Tinkling like wind chimes
Vivacious and turbulent
How ripped of defenses
it leaves my naked soul….
Chaotic it titillates and tempts me
with unfettered imaginings
White sand and beaches
Waves splashing bodies
in erotic embraces….
Sweet strawberry wine
Lingers on my tongue
Pink and longing….
as I pirouette…laughing
embracing life and love
and all that makes a smile
reach and touch my lonesome face
Vibrating and vital
Driving notes into my psyche
Copyright © Christie Moses | Year Posted 2009