Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Introspection Places Poems | Introspection Poems About Places

These Introspection Places poems are examples of Introspection poems about Places. These are the best examples of Introspection Places poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Couplet | |

A Bag of Popcorn

They ask me why I’m so happy
Asking me, if I just won a prize
I replied, well I reckon I did
Today is a wonderful surprise

When you have a past like mine
My today is always bright
There is no better feeling on earth
Than the joy of doing right

I may be an old man on a cane
My heart is skipping along
I learned to embrace the meaning
Life is a beautiful song

True life has its ups and downs
There’ll be forks in the road
With a smile I’ll stop for a while
Help you with your load

I had me a bag of popcorn today
It tasted exceptionally good
In fact, I will go as far as to say
Better then it probably should

For years, I had a guard in the pen
Popped him a bag each night
Then he would simply throw it away
His twisted little delight

He knew, it was those little things
Ate at our heart and soul
Movie with the wife Friday night
Popcorn in the bowl

I had a bag of popcorn today
Wife sitting at my side
I had a smile, which lasted awhile
One I could not hide

They ask me why I’m so happy
Asking me, if I won a prize
I replied, I reckon I did
Today is a wonderful surprise


For some reason today I was thinking about C.O. Talbert and
how he would pop a bag of popcorn even though he didn't eat
popcorn. He did it just because he knew it would make everyone
want some. I always felt sorry for him. His life must have been
very disappointing. The moral here: when you learn to appreciate
the little things in life your popcorn will taste a whole lot better. 



Details | Ballade | |

I love rain

I love rain

It's a month now into spring
And still the rain pours down
Hey, is it ever going to end
There's many here that frown
They want the sunny weather
That will come soon enought
But right now, I'm enjoying it
Rain, I love the stuff.

Next week we're off on holiday
Now it really does rain there
And I'll love very bit of it
As it soaks up everywhere
To hear it's rhythm on the roof
It makes me feel so grand
Though many think that I am strange
They just don't understand

We don't get much rain in WA
So when it comes,  for me
It makes me so excited
I guess it's how i be
So keep that rain a coming down
Let me feel it's soft, wet touch
I don't know what is wrong with me
But I love rain so much.

23 September 2013 @ 0624hrs


Details | Couplet | |

The Homeplace

Here further down the hillside slope
Down close to the creek with hope

My husband bought a house, land
Fenced in and made many plans

Subdued the land to cow pasture
And planted a garden, fruit trees sure

Fathered another child to call him sir
The creek seemed to like the stir

Enjoyed the children for a little while___
Loved them so that it made her smile

Today she loves grandchildren the same
No girls there are in frills ___tame

The creek keeps on flowing to the sea
The land is mostly stripped of trees


(This is my adaptation of Robert Frost's poem "The Birthplace".  I hope that it does not insult 
his work.)


Details | Verse | |

A Coffee Bar with Orange Paint

A coffee bar with orange paint --
   Brown tables on a tiled, grey floor --
Soft light within blown glass above --
   A neon sign hangs by the door.

I come here sometimes just to write.
   A coffee bar with orange paint
To some would be apalling; but
   I do not see it as a taint.

Tonight an artist's work is hung
   Upon those walls in bold display;
A coffee bar with orange paint
   Allows her dreams to have their say.

I like the color in these walls --
   A brazen hue, not pale or quaint;
And in this place I weave my words --
   A coffee bar with orange paint.


Details | Rhyme | |

Granddads Book

In my quiet times I often try,
To remember places I've been.
To recall folk I have passed by,
And sights that I have seen.

There is nothing wrong with my mind,
Sometimes my memory is quite refined.
I think it's filled over many a year,
With so much junk, nothing seems clear.

So, I made up my mind to write it all down,
To recall it all caused me to frown
It started like I was in the dark,
A memory flared, I was in the park.

That day in the park was just the lever,
I found my mind was as good as ever.
Tho' times and places got out of line,
I wrote it all down, now wasn't I clever!

I'm nearly at the end of my story,
A journey I'm glad that I took.
For my grandsons to read in years to come,
I'll call it Granddads Book.

© Dave Timperley 2012.


Details | Blank verse | |

America's Best

I fear it will never end.
I know the impact will ne’er fade
and
       the pain is slow to abate.

Dear God, may I never grow weary of
      having 'seen it all.'



Dedicated to the bravery and commitment of our soldiers around the world.  We cannot possibly 
deserve the sacrifices you make for us.  Thank you from my soul.


Details | Free verse | |

Roller Coaster

This never-ending roller coaster
makes life unpredictable, even to myself
The ups and downs take me from high to low
in a matter of minutes and hours
Twists and loops send my mind into a whirlwind
as it leaves my body numb
Dark tunnels seem cold and lonely
but I make it through in no time at all
Things start to slow down and I think the ride is over
only to speed past the exit 
Each time I pass, the scenery changes 
and new events take place, leaving me choices I least expect
On occasion, the brakes come to a screeching halt
but this is only for a second
I then find myself no longer moving forward
but riding in reverse, gripping my harness even tighter
Eyes closed, my biggest fear is not the places I've never gone
but the places I've already been


Details | Couplet | |

A New Coat Of Paint

There is that barn again
The red peeling paint shouts

Old worn gray tired it says
Memories running track

Back in the fourties when
Youth did reign rule really

When the paint was new red
Dancing and prancing here

Singing joy fiddle plays
Squares were formed to music

Kicked up her heels in time
Red paint new drew her beaus

Well now that tired worn look
Only need new coat_paint


Details | Couplet | |

When the air becomes visible - rainbows

The sky on days become too full
And gravity will start to pull
And capture every bubble frame
While popping corks off rich champagne
The trees will fool and start to dance
And still the time on every branch
With baron shrine and fruits to bare
The wind that strokes and blows through hair 
On top-down journeys come to pause
And settle howls with loud applause
Before acceding way too fast
They leave a trail that sprouts from past
Of flitter flatters in delight
And pitter patters out of sight
Extending dreams as arms beseech
To touch the always out of reach
Parting ways, they kiss goodnight
Before the lips close way too tight
The watermarks miraged for miles
With poppy sighs and angel smiles
A substance of the rarest rare
The healing voice of hearts that care
The silver clouds left in its wake
Remain untouched for heaven’s sake
It can’t be met from anywhere
But viewed to share the secret stare
and ponder why it’s so reborn
Transparent in its naked form  
It paints the sky with gold perhaps
For all to drink from natures tap
The air contains the future’s plot
Seen at times, at others not 
It’s written in the stars you see
Eclipsed by mind and soul-ar key
Failure amidst surrounds of air
That doesn’t mean love isn’t there


Details | Free verse | |

The Purest Music

    One fine day as I was traversing the green,
in the last throes of Autumns'  twilight.
I sat upon a flat stone,
overlooking a trilling brook,
to ponder the meaning of life.
As I sat ,and thought,
the soft chimes of music,
from the water spirits,
lulled me into a dream state.
Some where in  that liquid crystal,
stubborn stones are worn smooth,
by the passage of time.
Elsewhere the fluidous mercury,
rushes toward a cleft ,
a water fall.
Bringing forth melodies,
never to be reproduced ,
by mere human hands.
As my lids grow heavy,
I'm awakened by the flash of silver,
denizens ,  
silhouetted by the last rays of the setting sun..
With regret its time to leave,
as I turn to go ,
a misty rainbow is captured ,
by the fading beams of light.
I smile, at peace,
the promise ,
the sun will once again ,
eclipse the horizon.


Details | Couplet | |

Autumn

Immersed in the sound of the low rustling wind
Memories and places they haunt yet again
Passed by so quickly as each falling leaf
Drifting and flowing on an unyielding stream
A current to carry from birth right on through
Filling our moments with cares which ensue
A mind lost in remnants of lovers and friends
Babies and children and time long since spent
Familiar, intangible, just out of reach
Longing for ghosts that my heart doth beseech
Winter is looming and summer is past
A time for remembrance the years gone so fast
Beauty is captured in my last breath of life
The sparkling colors in the warm golden light
Do mimic the glory and wonder be told
In those bright days of autumn and a life to behold
 


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Cry only for those who cannot hear you

The wind did stir the thought in kind wanting - for if she knew my soul, just a spark 
of it, I would be a rich man...

So long this ribbon of love that flows over the rocks of age and distant torment...
The gate keepers sit alone watching, waiting for the violators who dare not call 
mundane theirs...

It is those shackles which bind misguided dreams that which make fertile ground for 
the barkers at the door, for what else does one need to grey the vision and dull 
delight?

You carry the scent of the well-traveled said the withered old man - I too know your 
pain, that which comes from never knowing home - those of us who seek blindly 
that which the world cannot give - home is not a place but a thought in time and 
nothing more than a stop to rest your ambition...

Cry only for only those who cannot hear you, for it is selfish to do otherwise and 
seek home in the gentle embraces of those that know you...

Be kind to those who would bite you, for in doing so it will bring light to a dark path...

AND

Always rejoice in life - it pisses them off and helps them to see the tragic flaw of 
their diluted beliefs...


Details | Verse | |

Winds Carry Me


Carry me home The wind through the trees has a name Carry me home Never more will I dare to roam Beauty and pain are not the same Destiny's path, I shall not blame Carry me home Winds carry me sweep me across the deepest sky Winds carry me In a hushed voice, a loving plea Gentle breezes embrace on high Heaven speaks on a whisper nigh Winds carry me
*a rondelet Honorable Mention in No 174 Any Form Any Theme (Brian Strand)


Details | Free verse | |

His Testament (Sedoka)

Joseph His servant
Enslaved by those in the dark
A female falsely accused
Delivered by God
Displayed a heart of pure gold
True testament of God’s love


Comments:   One does not have to look too far in today's society to find a modern 
day Joseph. The Sedoka is an unrhymed poem made up of two three-line 
poems called a katauta with the following syllable counts: 5/7/7, 5/7/7.  A Sedoka, 
pair of katauta as a single poem, may address the same subject from differing 
perspectives.  The katauta is an unrhymed three-line poem with the following 
syllable counts: 5/7/7.  This Sedoka highlights Joseph, God’s noble servant and 
dreamer


Details | I do not know? | |

Alone with Lemons and Limes

He told me I had lemon skin
my breath was tart upon my lips
I carried the weight of the world on my hips
My tongue I should learn to bridle

It's just like the sun in the afternoon
with the windows open to dispel the gloom
Lime green pain lights up my room
With a whisper, a king could frighten

This house has ways to betray your steps
sour though I be as I falter and trip
courtesy gone in my first two sips
I'm wondering about tomorrow.

You've heard the old adage of extra lemons:
"lemonade stands for your family and friends
Positivity lifts and the fun never ends"
(accept when you dare to dream).

Lime green walls match the glint in my cat's eyes
My sadness creeps in when my little girl cries
I'm tart with my righteously indignant replies
Don't thank me - Thank my mother...


Details | Free verse | |

Generic Minds

generic minds listen to generic music
have generic thoughts that are unknowingly abusive
watch generic things talk about generic things
gee this generic *****is spreading like a disease
better get your flu shot 
thats what they said to me
a suicidal vaccine 
a subliminal killing spree
its contagious and the outrageous
thing about it is that the people are blind in an eye
that they didn't even know they had
it's sickening to watch these clueless civilians 
inside the looking glass
with nightmares of being free
without a key to their mind
for it is trapped in the frequency
in the illusion of time
bathed in our universe
killing all that refuse to see
those that admit to hypocracy
or see the message in hip hop
how cant you see
the message in the lyrics that
bring adolescents to their knees
from bullet wounds conflicting their flesh
contradicting that they're the best
but the songs keep telling them that they dont need no rest
that they dont wanna go home
that they should ride alone
with the gat as their only companion
and so the only path they choose is the one that they're told
until they grow old and hope turns to a window pane
inside a window pane, until all they feel is pain
they realize that the music itself is ashamed
so whats to look up to
when you cant even speak when you cant even walk because you look so bleak
your eyes are sunken from the tv you're infested with the dee zees
now its too late to turn around and live for your conscious
so when youre screaming oh please
close your eyes and bring your mind to life
open your eyes for the first time
and never wonder why
since the answer this entire time
has been inside
and you better find it before you die
you dont want your soul to be in a pool with all the others
a buncha brothers missing their mothers
but only seeing strangers
only feeling the haters
wishing they would have used their minds when they had them
and now its too late,
now it's time for another new born fate to grab them


Details | Rhyme | |

What Is This Church All About

What Is This Church All About?

Is this church meant for people like me?
Is this where God really wants me to be?

They claim to be filled with God’s spirit.
When it comes to HIS truth...  Can they give it?

I’m sure there’s many who come and attend
It’s more than “church on Sunday,” that we must spend!

We must reach out to the lost and the oppressed!
After all, Christ gave us his very best!

May we all preach the gospel and God’s holiness!
And strive to seek his awesome righteousness!

Living for Jesus must be a daily walk and experience!
Not simply based on our “ambitious self appearance.”

God isn’t interested in a denomination or a title…
He wants to know…  Do we really believe the Bible?

He’s not interested in the money put in the offering plate.
He wants to know; “Are you ready
 to enter heaven’s gate?”

May we strive to serve Jesus with a zeal and passion!
And be filled with his holiness and compassion!

May we serve Jesus from a heart of humbled confession!
And making our commitment to him,
 our #1 possession!

“Unless the Lord builds the house.”  
They labor in vain that build it!
Let’s seek the power of God! 
May his presence completely fill it!!

By Jim Pemberton    


Details | Couplet | |

A Different Verse

A different time, a different place
A different life and different face

Different wants and different needs
Different values and different creeds

Different Pomp and Circumstance
Different songs and different dance

Different likes and different hate
Different foods on different plate

A different boat on a different sea
A different you and a different me


Details | Free verse | |

The Swimming Pool

The scene is a bit too bright, and the
Water is a bit too tart. Slightly acidic,
But mostly enticing, it feels good to him.

With measured step 
He walks up - jumps - 
And falls in.

Plunging deeper he tries to see 
But the chlorine burns his eyes,
A rhythmic exhale eases the pressure on his ears
But he can’t breathe and is afraid his heart
Will beat out of his chest.

Acquiescing to his pain, he faintly hears a voice beckoning him towards the wall, 
Finally reaching the bottom he pushes off the floor,
Frantically kicking towards the surface.

Swallowing his first gulp of air, his back stings as the wind renders an aftershock of motion,
But he happily pulls toward the ladder;
Eager to climb up and plunge again. 



Details | Cowboy | |

My Roots Run Deep

My roots run deep & strong here in this place you curse & scorn
I couldn’t think of a better place than here to have been born

you say this is a dead end town, where dreams whither & die
I know this town has nurtured my dreams, seen them soar & fly

You say the cowboy has left & gone, run off by urban sprawl
Yet every morning, I still hear the young calves bawl

you talk of crime run amok & people no one can trust
I choose my friends carefully & fight for the right & the just

You say this is no place to raise a child, that they’ll not learn respect
but its our job to raise them up, their course in life direct

You say that no one gives a damn about another’s plight
but I have seen this town come together to turn a wrong to right

You say this town holds you back & you will never gain success
I can feel her sing my praises as I aim to do my best

I will stay here in this valley & no matter where I roam
I know my roots run deep here & I will always come back home

Pack your bags & go on down the road in search of better grazing
One day you will come full circle & return here to your raising

For your roots run deep here too, though you may curse & shout
and roots, home & belonging are what life is all about


© October 2003


Details | Bio | |

Solitude: To Yoda, An Ode

Green bark a prism creates,
Feel the pull of earth, you must.

Rotates, a slime of endless hates,
Can hold me not, this world’s crust.

Friendship’s ties, isolation Deflates,
Succumbs, my spaceship, to bitter rust.

Mist, my soul forever permeates,
Lift-off, booms the rocket’s thrust.

My spirit when light returns, elates,
Swamps swell, swallowed hope’s swirling dust.

Trapped, I am, until student from fate
Arrives to learn; Cloud City or bust.


Details | Rhyme | |

My Future

My future shines like the rays of the sun
brings my inner power to the outside
and even though I just lost a battle
(a battle of ignorance, not stupidity)
it makes me happy to still be alive
and to understand the choices I have made

Change is at the door, challenging me
now that the time has come
and for myself and my dear family
(the ones I love very much)
I am taking the inevitable 
of a better future I am capable

My future shines like stars in a clear night
dressing my wife, children and I
dressing my brother, parents, loved ones
(real family and friends)
in elegant clothes for the event of our lives
a graduation from the lessons learned

Responsible I am of my own mistakes
of my unlimited passion and blind pride
however there is something I can recognize
(because that is the final point)
I was not born knowing it all
therefore, in ignorance I was wrong

My future smiles at my present, offering ...
a new alternative, a new way in a new place
a place where all my children can play
(where we are finally going to stay)
surrounded by ideal conditions at home
where everything makes sense after all!

Carlos Mongrut
07/12/12


Details | Rhyme | |

River City Night Life

An earful of breaks...
in overnight silence,
the ticking clock,
crickets chirping,
r-r-r-r-r-o-w-l!
a cat fight,
midnight,
a siren blares,
dogs howl,
a hooting owl,
the mouse...
at prowl,
a plane zooms...
on high,
motors, whining,
tires, as 
trucks and cars
go by,
all announcing...
River City life,
Louisville, Ky.


Details | Rhyme | |

I Went To Church Last Sunday


I Went To Church Last Sunday… I went to church last Sunday, and much to my surprise. I got up real early. It was just before the sunrise. I wanted to be with others in worship to my Lord. But when I arrived, so many there look so “bored.” When they were singing the songs, some didn’t seem to care. As I looked around, hardly anyone noticed I was there. By the time the people were asked to sing another song. Some greeted the worship leader with just another “yawn.” Did anyone really want to worship Jesus the risen king? Is church a place to simply “get bored with everything?” As the preacher arose to preach his “Sunday sermon best.” “Fill between the lines,” he said… This was to be the “test.” Shortly after the outlines were filled, there was a “closing prayer.” I noticed many of the people were “happy to get out of there!” I thought to myself as I left and walked out the door… “Is this what the true body of Christ meant for?” “Where is the sin-cleansing power of God I’ve heard about?” “Has the power of God in many churches been ‘kicked out?’” I pray that the presence of God will get a hold of our heart. May our worship for Jesus be evident… Right from the start! May our relationship with Christ be very important to us. May we give him our life! Our heart! And our trust! May our love for him not be a “boring Sunday experience.” May we serve HIM daily… Expecting a divine appearance! The Jesus I know is bigger than any denomination might be! And only his blood has the power to set men free! Serving and loving Jesus is an opportunity with living! A life in totally surrender to Christ is what we much be giving! By Jim Pemberton


Details | Rhyme royal | |

" Bahama Nation"

A nation of peace,a nation of pride
A nation that's spread far and wide.
A nation of hope,a nation of joy,
Thats free for all, man,women ,girl and boy.

A nation to give,a nation to take
A nation filled with reggae,socca,calypso and rake and scrape.
A nation of colors; black,gold,aqua....sometimes called blue
can be seen everywhere above land and under sea too.

A nation of democracy and old english style,but things  sure have changed if you
look up our file.
From outside rock stoves,to TV,radio,computers and wi-fi connectivity.........
I'd say that a long way from July 10 1973.

An nation filled with hospitality,love and history,
Arawaks,Caribs and American Indians are the basis of our nationality.
A nation where Tourism is number one, because of the Bounty of sand sea and sun.

Yes,a nation of Youth,sports ,culture,uniqueness and island fashion trends,
Like native Androsia our own local blend......and straw work and junkanoo,the list has no end.
This nation of beauty,splendor and self defense ;yes its celebarting its own INDEPENDENCE.


Details | Free verse | |

A Moment

The day is oh so quiet.
The sun has not come up.
But I can see it peeking.
The world awaits it on its throne.
Everything is still.
No one is running about.
What a perfect time for poetry…
Before my brood is up.
Beautiful. Serene.
A cup of coffee near by.
A moment out of time.
Within this cocooned moment…
The world is all mine.


Details | Free verse | |

Hot Jazz

Slow drawn, steeping tea bags, in an etched glass pitcher, Lazily infuse its Oriental musk into the sun warmed brew. My ice crackles along with the thunder over the great Mississippi As the ewers’ spout releases the torrents of Southern comfort Into the tall, foggy, frost laden glass; I await my fill. A frigid sip chafes my lips and briefly deadens my longing, Only momentarily, as the turgid air, again, envelops my throat. The chills grip my spine, even in this oppressive heat. Sauntering droplets roam slowly down my bare skinned back And puddle where my hips widen at the curve of my waist. Hope is lost for those of us who float through purgatory. The weight of two centuries of sorrow hangs heavily on our skin. The burden is at its worst to bear just before autumn, When slave ships broken by storms washed up on the river. Airlessness provides no clemency for those gasping for pardon. Sorrow lies heavily in the lungs of the poor souls of August. Heat, fetid and damp, feverishly enables man’s basest passion, To be disguised as music, that wails from the saloons in the Quarter. Deep, boiling, fermented tales of sorrow are turned into song, Melodic tales spun of sorcery, savagery blue and untethered souls, Forged metals and the scat of primitive voices, break the fugue. Echoes of blasphemy wrought suffocating havoc and destruction, As hot jazz blows cool through the streets of the Ninth Ward.


Details | Diminished Hexaverse | |

What Is Out There In The Universe

What is out there_stars
They say that there's Mars
Then that fickled Moon
Wans and grows_shines_glows
Contains a face_space

The Milky Way
Glows night and day
Spiraling speed
Meets all our needs

What where why
What being
Created 

All this
Beauty

God


Details | Quatorzain | |

A Requiem verse

nothing moves,
silence!
echos of voices,past
awake!
faces appear,then
depart!
a tear trickles,
slowly!
the music plays,
faintly!
emotion erupts,
again!

regret whispers,
in pain!

Note:
a quatorzain is a stanza or poem of fourteen lines


Details | Haiku | |

What People Were and What People Are

People were
Many things.
Strange or not

People were
Different and
Odd and fun.

People were
Monsters but…
That’s not all

People were
And still are
Strange and odd.

People are
People. For
life is life. 

Yet not.
Not is lies.
Truth seeps from

Every mouth
Lies, lies, lies
Move, move, move

But somehow
Lies prevail.
Lies are life.

Lies are death.
Lies are homes.
Lies are pain.

Lies are truth.
Yet somehow.
Truth prevails.

Truth is life.
Truth is death.
Truth is home.

Truth is pain.
Truth is lie.
Truth is that.

Lies will die.
Lies will cease.
Nevermore.

Truth will live.
Truth will be.
Forever.


Details | Ghazal | |

God's Heavenly Mountain

Skeptal I still followed others up the mountain
Voices said do not fret for God speaks from this mountain


Valley and creeks and eagles that soar
Suitable for a me to continue climbing this God forsaken mountain

Time can be at nil for there my destiny awaits 
Tranquility bliss and solace of it's mountain

Relish with me if you will if you must if you can
Shout from the highest peaks of this skeptal mountain

There is a new day a new beginning and a new you
Only if you take this journey beyond God's Heavenly mountain








Details | Pantoum | |

The Blue Knight { Pantoum }

<                                the city he calls his home the beat
                                  waiting for his next dispatched calling
                                  badge gun club cuffs and his new partner
                                  murder's rapes invasion calls to him
                                  waiting for his next dispatched calling
                                  alley's streets underground he searches
                                  murder's rapes invasion calls to him
                                  doctors lawyers fast food he's ready
                                  waiting for his next dispatched calling
                                  badge gun club cuffs and his new partner
                                  alley's streets underground he searches
                                  the city he calls his home the beat




Tribute To 
Police Officers 



Entry For
Jarred Pickett's
Pantoum Contest
G.L. All
                                  


Details | Senryu | |

' Golden Harvest ... ' 40th Senryu

    Golden, Full Moon Shone
On All The Harvest, That’s Grown
    Welcome In Our Home


Details | Sonnet | |

I Frame

I Frame 

As sure as I stand in the mixed of this garden, 
Glimmering gold falls to the earth by my call. 
Many are great and then some are a bit small. 
I release magnets clutching an obscene pardon. 

It is like balancing a beam that only I will harden. 
I wrap myself into a silver plated resilient shawl. 
Person place and time steadily climb up to maul. 
It’s a give or take rejection expected to turn on. 

One day ye shall see, 
My Moon half drawn, 
Ye see it was all of me. 
Your Sun will be gone. 

Only one Star shall rise up above my name. 
It’s a special place inside my heart I frame! 

®Registered: Ann Rich 2007 



Details | Verse | |

Le Vacance Pretentieuse: Going Home

What is it to see the soil of home again?
A welcome, snow-struck and a return
To cold; sharp white contrasts sunburn.
We converse in broken tongues to men

We know, hooked on holiday language
Comprised of wandering hand signs.
Collect the car and pay parking fines,
Drive through towns and over a bridge

Until we reach the Western gateway.
Oh when will we arrive at our house?
No camels there, only field mouse
Which are eaten by our cat anyway.

The plane flies for an age, slyly yawning
Through the stretching, pealing sky,
A knife through air; what it is to fly.
Our travels over; a new day is dawning.


Details | Villanelle | |

Total Destruction

<                                   Destruction of beautiful mother earth
                                     Will it spin off mantel like head to gawk 
                                     Or destroyed by mankind for what it's worth

                                     Floods fires quakes acts from natures own birth
                                     Litterbugs arsonists terrorists balks
                                     Destruction of beautiful mother earth


                                    Illuminate waters that someone hurts
                                    Cleanliness is painted in Godly chalk
                                    Or destroyed by mankind for what it's worth

                                    Man woman and even thy smallest mirth
                                    For thy Father in our Heaven will stalk
                                    Destruction of beautiful mother earth

                                   Eagle that soars a wolf howling from girth
                                   Will thy it's freedom ring out thus like the hawk 
                                   Or destroyed by mankind for what it's worth

                                   Like land before time when man walked
                                   Wonder how forces existed and talked
                                   Destruction of beautiful mother earth
                                   Or destroyed by mankind for what it's worth


Details | Free verse | |

The Luck Of The Irish

Ahhh the luck of the Irish 
complete with leprechauns 
and pots of gold 

The Emerald Isle 
God's country 
filled with lyrical voice 

but no one hears her cry 

that fabled luck 
truly a fable t'would seem 

suffering 
the only thing in abundance 
it is their only pot 
that remains filled 

an impoverished relative 
showing up late for dinner 
tossed a few scraps 
from the rich relatives
but not allowed to sit at the table

a history rich with servitude
famine, plaque 
and indentured slavery 

spit upon by class distinctions 
laughed about as uneducated 
their brogue common 

ahhh yes the curse of the commoner
in a society that rewards 
upper class and the deemed 
right of birth 

drunken happy go lucky louts 
that would steal your pants 
rather than wash his own 
and on and on the prejudice flows

from old days into the new 
of drinking and gambling 
even in the movies 
portrayed as a rogue 

these perceptions followed 
fine people across the sea
where they built the cities 
endured the hardships 

and still no one hears their cry 
no one gives them their due 

they did the jobs 
others were to afraid to do
the hard labor
standing on steel skyscrapers 

so many descendent's
of this proud people 
have formed the foundations 
of other countries 
and still they do not control their own 

now the world frowns 
not understanding the religious battle 
that dwells within 
it's all they have 
their faith 
it makes perfect sense to me 

for yes the Irish 
would start a fight in a church 
for they are not afraid 
to stand up for their beliefs 

they are just hollow 
for so much 
has been taken from them
so much suffering 
has been endured 

so they cling to their faith 
as a man clings to a life preserver 
for to lose that last vestige 
they will lose themselves 

ahhhh the luck of the Irish 
maybe they should pass that luck to another 
then maybe someone will hear their cries

someday they may follow the rainbow 
and will truly find that pot of gold





Details | I do not know? | |

Softer Toilet Paper

In this bathroom of Dr. Heath's,
The tissues so tough you grit your teeth.

No soft toilet paper anywhere to be found,
By the time you get through, how does Charmin sound?

You wipe with sandpaper til you bleed,
Soft toilet paper your bottom will need.

In this kit, relief  you will find
From toilet that is much more kind!


Details | Free verse | |

Drawing From The Deep Well

Drawing water from deep well
Clear _cool refreshing water
Drop bucket _watch fall
That windless works
That is if you do
Turn _turn the rope
Each turn gets much harder
A lot like life, friend



1.  Drawing (1)     10.  Watch(1)     19.  Turn(3)      27.Like(1)
2.  Water(2)         11.  Fall(1)         20.   The(1)      28.Life(1)
3.  From(1)          12.  That(2)        21.   Rope(1)    29.Friend(1)
4.  Deep(1)          13.  Windless(1) 22.    Each(1)
5.  Well(1)           14.  Works(1)     23.    Gets(1
                                                                                            
6.  Clear(1)         15.   Is(1)          24.    Harder(1)  
7.  Cool(1)          16.   If(1)           25.   A(1)
8.  Refreshing(1)  17.  You(1)        26.    Lot(1)
9.  Drop(1)          18.  Do(1)


Details | Free verse | |

Color of a Man's Character

The Color of a Man’s Character
We all bleed
And cleave to 
Those we leave

We all smile when we are greeted
And cry when we are mistreated

Why do we choose to abuse others 
For the color of their skin?

Why do we think that only 
Our own color should win?

We’re all the same underneath 
We all deserve peace 
When we lay down to sleep

Love one another while you can
Show your son how to be gracious
The color of a man’s character 
Is how he treats his fellow Man.


Details | Free verse | |

Emigration comes full circle

I left Ireland in the 80's with my husband and two babies for Holland. In 2003, we 
returned so that our children could have an Irish University education. Dublin was 
buzzing with life at the time, it was very expensive but we were home. Now in 2011, 
my daughter is emigrating, back down the old ancestral path, she is going to Madrid 
to teach English there. Our country has collapsed so badly, there is no employment 
here so we are exporting our young, educated children by the day. A sad day for me 
as my daughter leaves tomorrow. I wrote her this poem.


To Sarah
On the wave of emigration
I want you to know
That I see you, a fellow female
An equal on every level
Not just my daughter
My little pink princess
I see you as a woman
A power within this world
With oceans to offer
A lifetime still to learn
Go to your new life
A teacher in Madrid
Be free and fearless
Spread your wings and fly
Take the opportunities
Shape them to your dreams
You have all the tools
You can use them now.

Your analytic mind
Will help you make good decision
Fair and just rewards will ensue.
Your radiating heart
Will gift you new friendships
Maybe even a new love
All in good time
You will never be alone
Because you have a deep sense of self
This will be fortified
With this new tide
Your feet firmly planted
Will always serve you well
Balancing the ups and downs of Libra
Always true to yourself
Life will be true to you too.

We live in a new age today
This global world is small
As we email and skype
Fly back and forth to visit
We will continue to love
As mother and daughter
Our journeys through life
Shared
Forever together
My love
I will hold you safe
In my heart.
 


Details | Sonnet | |

Another Sonnet Written at a Coffee House

You sink into the bosom of the chair 
And wonder if I too once sat amidst 
The chattering, white coffee sipping fare— 
The lonely writers ‘pining for a kiss. 

Did I peer out over the porce’lain mug 
And purse my vulgar mouth over the lip 
My eyes a’roll behind my glasses’ fog 
My writer turning phrase and spinning quips? 

Did I curl my toes under my feet 
Threading my fingers ‘round the scolding cup 
My yellow molars grinding to the beat 
Of meds-a-glee and glutt’nous caffeine ups? 

No— 
I didn't’t sit cross-legged and introverted— 
I flipped through glossy pages and consorted.


Details | Free verse | |

Of Africa

in the distance 
upon the wind 
are heard cries 
left unanswered 
against a backdrop 
of riotous color 
shimmering in emerald 
of pale eyes 

blinded to the black 
upon the soil 
treading on emotion 
and dreams 
held in the dark 
recesses 
where cream never looks 

they lay upon the white 
sheets to wrap tender souls 
as children remain lost 
parents forgotten 
interned under 
unmarked graves 
except for tears 
falling silently

I stare into Africa 
into a past 
that seems unmoved 
by the future 
stuck between equalities 
that are lopsided 
and diseases 
that shadow the poor 
like an anxious undertaker 

while I sit and sip 
lemonade in tall glasses 
in the shade of a tree 
not really my own 
but claimed for my 
protection 
wrapped in cooling veils 
that shield my eyes 
from the harsh realities 
and cover my guilt with silk 
easing my conscience

I stare out of Africa now 
to a world of ignorance 
for I am not alone 
not the only blinded person 
that chose to be that way 
as the cries crawl 
across the land 
and dead animals 
line the roads 
leading to human graveyards 
where the gates 
are always swinging open 
to welcome the natives home

I stare past Africa now 
and wonder in sadness 
will she survive all we have done 
of even survive all we haven't done 
as the blinders fall away 
and I uncover my ears 
the pain and cries reach me
conveying the answer

no, she will not survive us 
for not enough of us 

truly care...







Details | Free verse | |

My Handsome King

My Handsome King
Your royal palms gently wave
 at me each time I see you,
I have to blush 
each time they do.
 
Your sugar white beaches moan
 for my feet to greet 
them each time we meet.
My feet move to the beat 
of salsa when they
 remember you.
 
Your gentle breezes caress my 
hour glass hips each
 time I run to you.
They rock me like a baby
 when I sail over 
your bright 
blue waters.
 
Your bright moonbeams create 
a halo around my head 
as I shake my long golden
 hair to say hello to you. 
They dance around like a drunken
 gypsy with the sparkly stars
 up above as I take my
 midnight stroll with you.
 
Your regal art deco
 buildings of pastel
stand at attention, 
every time I dream 
of your streets of gold.

Your sun's rays of warm
 glory tickle my 
bare breasts gently 
as I rest my body on the
 safety of your 
heavenly sands.
 
I humbly bow my 
head to you with honor,
for your sweet 
whispers of hospitality
have overtaken me, 
my Majestic King
 of the South Beaches. 
Miami, you are my 
handsome, winter friend.


Details | Ballad | |

Termite country

Termite Country

We’re heading north to Exmouth,
Carnarvon we’ve just passed.
We be driving up a serpent road,
As the country seems so vast.
It’s hot outside, but in this van,
The air cons on and all,
As all along the road we pass,
Little goats, so beautiful….

And everywhere, most endlessly,
There’s a billion termite mounds.
Like baked brown little mountains,
They’re everywhere around.
We stopped near one, I marveled,
That a tiny beast, and blind!
Could build these blessed monuments,
It nearly blew my mind.

I took me then some photographs
Of these engineering feats,
As I let the awe and wonder,
Into my dull mind seep.
In such a vast, still country,
In the silence of the way,
Those mounds stood out so powerful,
In the heat of a sunburned day.

2003


Details | Lyric | |

Last Night This Canalbank Was Home

Last night, this canal bank was home
I see the tossed newspapers blow
And a solitary brown blanket lie
Where not all that long ago
Someone slept... but they were not camping
This was home last night
And, as I approach the bridge
I see him sitting there... on my right...

Hes old and weezened, lights a cigarette
Or at least his best to do so he does try...
And I ever the Christian full of compassion
Keep my distance and hurry by.


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

No Parachutes,safety nets,souls,or hope

Love is whispered and not forgotten
If this be so
I deaf to soft lipped invitations seek no thought of hope
I of no past collection hold thought
To forget is gruesome and beautiful

My eyes, swift allies in my war of world tell no lies

Silent in the 4 walled chalkboard blue
Shakespearean mad men twist their tongues with words of bland hue

I believe the concept of Ugliness is more profound than that of beauty
Dreams of my bladed face fill up behind my eyes...scratching my mind

Nothing goes SURPRISE! anymore
To love and lose is not the exciting protagonist to never having lost love

the optimists run in circles
pretenders of despair hunt themselves

Every street is Desolation row and my window is covered with blood

Nothing comforts anything
No advice

....just surprises


Details | Verse | |

The Paparazzi Quinzaine

<                                   paparazzi candid shots
                                     privacy act ruined ?
                                     big nuisance ?
                                     
                                     


Details | Rhyme | |

The Thread That Binds

A little boy and an ant became great friends one day. 
But how to live drew them apart, and this is how they ran astray:

In the Ant’s heart was strict authority and constant work each day.
Why wasn’t the boy following someone, collecting for the food array?
The ant would always build everything in exactly the same proven way.
The anthill was underground and protected them perfectly every day.
Not adding to the hive was a crime, no one would ever think to display.
He knew every thing would be perfect, if everyone did their job and obeyed.

But the boy wanted to build bridges and trestles, just like his Dad, each day.
All of them out in the open, none of them under ground or hidden away.
And inventiveness came with the notice, of new and exciting things in daily play.
His life was really cool, not boring, as standing in a line would convey.
He’d invent, and ponder, and build in exciting, new ways, to fit each new byway.
Quick minded, and resilient he’d build, many fascinating and unique causeways.

The boy and the ant eventually went away, not happy with how the other lived.
They thought the other shortsighted and scorned, at what the other could give.
But they went away without realizing, how very similar were their lives.
For each would spend their time endeavoring to help others with their drive.
But understanding is a harder concept than building a bridge or storing food.
It takes a true gift to see the world as others do…

The moral to this story is really quite easy for all to see…
You can’t expect others to live their lives the way you want them to be.
Here, each was adding to their different world, only they could see.
While one was building for a smaller, singular hive…
The other was building for the hive of mankind.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Stolen Hearts

Cold, callus, crying, shivering,
and covered in sweat.
Wondering what has happened.
Not yet understanding this fate I’ve met.

What of a guy that stumbled around,
just trying his hardest to show he’d been found,
after all he had just been purchased
from the human pound.


That promise to you.
Man I broke it.
I told you Id stop,
and for a time I did,
but that stuff two blocks away,
my will power just wasn't work-n.
My wrist watch again broken.
Always from the look on my face,
you could tell Id been smoke-n.


You tried.
You tried so hard,
but the mind wasn’t mine.
only a shell of what used to be,
all of me you were trying to find,
and I didn’t get this till my alone time.


I was pushing.
You were pulling.
Then it all pushed you away.
It was all down hill from here,
so naturally you couldn’t stay.


I sit here so sad
for the way you must of felt.
Let alone how you dealt.
Ill never understand how I could do this to you.
You're so prefect,
even your aura dances in ambient light.
You’re the best friend I could of had,
and that leaves me really mad,
that the rest of the world
may never know what we had.

The thing is I know now,
that you loving me.
This really was Much more,
than I loving you.

~Ha,Turned around this insecurity was always mine.~


Details | Rhyme | |

From Then To Now

                                         When we close our eyes we can drift away...
                                     To places far back in our minds where they stay...
                                  A visit without the pain or fear that might have come...
                         Where apologies and mistakes fade in and out with blame for none....
                               Places now reflect images that were never on the surface...
                                   Where hands can scribe a past without a bitter taste...
                                              From time to time I like to drift away...
                                        But I always find my way back to a better day...

                                                                        MJF


Details | Free verse | |

Shameless Self-Promotion

Here they go again.
anything to win,
indulging
in shameless 
self-promotion.
layin’ it on thick, 
	makin’ sure it sticks,
		slappin’ it on like lotion.

“click my stuff,
and I’ll click yours too.
wanna feel like the best 
even though 
it ain’t true?”

back n’ forth complements
are so self defeating.
inflating other’s heads for praise 
is a blatant way
of cheating.

“do unto others”
but don’t lie, 
to boost their ego.
misleading them 
to raise their hopes 
should clearly be illegal.

no need to read 
a word
of their work
while scratching their backs 
bare.
skimmin’ 
	skippin’ 
		scannin’…
all’s fair
in tactical 
warfare.

poets thought to be adored 
while chewin’ truth’s gristle.
before you swallow,
broke a tooth that hurt
like a damn 
lit 
missile. 

feeding on lines 
with hidden agendas 
is worse
than bein’ ignored.
cuz’ when you find 
copy n’ pasted comments, 
your hopes 
are sadly floored.

how about 
reading and endorsing work
you actually enjoy,
instead of 
feedin’ folks a line of crap 
laced with praise 
and “atta-boys!”


Details | Verse | |

I Write

I write about the things I know
Sometimes it’s places that I’ve been
Or, maybe places I would go 
If I’d find time to now and then.

But mostly I write what I see.
A description lives inside of me
That forms a picture, but in words,
To reproduce in simple verse.

It might rhyme, if I’ve the time.
But, mostly I’m an artist poor,
With words for color, nothing more.

Poems that must have rhyme and reason,
Sometimes, just don’t fit the season.

Poets must be given freedom
To express feelings without borders.
We’re not soldiers given marching orders.

So I write of nature and man,
And try to rhyme it when I can.

But sometimes trees and birds and clouds
Will send me to a place I go,
Deep within my mind.
And there, with pen and paper, 
I’ll see what I can find.

Like ships and trains and oil rigs,
I scribe around the clock,,, tic toc….
Like books and babes and butterflies,
Just because,,,that’s why,,that’s what…


Details | Rhyme royal | |

TEAR GAS TICKET


TEAR GAS TICKET

Gotta get home.
Comin' on night.
Notta time to roam.
Air tastin' fight.

Me, jump on a ride--
toward my town.
Tout, he says with pride--
‘Best bus around’

Next guy says to me
‘Drivers start strike--
We just have to see
What this ride’s like.’

Strikers kiss their stones
To Throw them straight.
'God please get me home--
It's gettin' on late.'

white gal slinks down
covers her face
she's just like me
needs a hidin' place

Strikers kiss their rocks.
Wounded bus jolts.
Me, I worry clocks
While street revolts.

Army trucks here--
Green pour out.
Driver looks scared,
So does tout.

Pop and pop again--
Know that sound.
Tear gas kiss eye
Tanks rumble ground.

Safe inside the bus--
white gal and me,
Stink kills all the fuss
And home goes we!


NOTE:  tout (rhymes with out) is the bus conductor--his job is to hawk until bus is full

PLACE:  Nairobi, Kenya   11/28/2012  during political unrest before elections


Details | Rhyme | |

Where have you Gone America Newly Revised

This a revised and updated edition of a poem I recently wrote and posted.  I'm interested in your comments, especially if your read the previous version.  Thank you for reading and providing your honest opinion(s).   

Where have you gone America, where have you been?
Where are the places I used to roam
Long ago with family and friends?
Where are your steeples and spires pointing 
Upward, skyward bound?  Are they still there
Where I last left them 
Back in my home town?  God fearing people 
And places, filled with traces of 
Humanities hopes and dreams; 
Sky scrapers, chance takers, 
Sweet Land of Liberty.   
And I hope you haven’t lost the grandeur
Of the Rocky Mountain Range; 
The Blue Ridge, Black Hills, Sierra Nevada, 
And Northern Cascades.
Are your wonderfully winding rivers still running
And forest trees growing tall
Like the pioneer days   
Before the Pilgrims came to call? 
Do your hearts still yearn 
For what might be earned 
Through the sweat of the brow and tears?
Do people still sing and dance by the moon
Because freedom’s still free so I here?  Some fear 
You may be falling
From the crow’s nest where you’ve been 
While the waves are growing stronger
And you’re losing too many old friends.   
While I still wave “Old Glory”
In these hurricane like gales, 
‘Cause I’ve seen other places 
And many sad faces  
Where everybody fails.  
Where life is pathetic, miserable, vile;
Without freedom of expressing 
Barely a thought worthwhile.     
Not that you don’t have a few
Stones in need of shining;
You’ve made some mistakes 
But it’s still not too late; 
Changing course is a matter of timing.  I believe
In you America, you’re
The cradle, bosom and grave 
Of all that I am and will ever be
In you, my heart still craves.  
Though some may vehemently disagree 
The right to do so sets them free
Paid for by the last full measure
Of friends and lovers, sons and daughters,
Fathers, Brothers in Arms,   
Souls unraveled from earthly travels, America
You’re a long, long way from gone.  
From my view and this direction
This reflection from the glass;
Half full instead of empty,
Troubles always pass.  Sooner or later
Come what may the pendulum always shifts;
Left and right, day and night, America,
You’re still the world’s greatest gift.  

 


Details | I do not know? | |

Senorita Sorrow ( Spanish Rain )

Any teardrops that I can borrow?
In those Spanish eyes of yours
In those big brown Spanish eyes
of yours
 
 
Senorita Sorrow
Can you run away with me tomorrow?
We can chase our dreams around
And make love
And start wars
In those Spanish eyes of yours
In those big brown Spanish eyes
of yours
 
You have never lived
It's very hard to explain
I got lost in Senorita Sorrow
somewhere in San Sebastian, Spain
somewhere in her Spanish eyes
somewhere in the Spanish rain
 
We had the time of our lives
But she cried there on the train
She couldn't hold back the pain
She knew there was no tomorrow
My Sweet Senorita Sorrow
As she stepped out into the 
Mid-September Spanish Rain





Details | Free verse | |

Coffee Shop

Bustling people and clinking forks
A crowded maze of tables and chairs
The soft conversations meant to be secret
Rise to a horrible din of mingling words and phrases

The smell of stale coffee beans and perfume
Caress my nose with a familiar touch
The morning shines outside the huge windows
Burning brightly, it washes out the crowd

People become shadows in the insane light
The breaking dawn ruins their features
I set alone in this madness of Sun-fire
My senses raped by terrible sights and sound

They fuel my desire to be ...

The smell of unwashed skin and vodka
Drifts in on a fugitive breeze
The rattle of a beggar's cup points to its source
Its owner's suffering passes silently amongst the crowd

An old man sits with his paper in hand
A daytime hooker enjoys her hazelnut creamer
A well-dressed woman curses her cellphone and spills her latte
A child grips her legs and she curses him as well

In a dream
Sepia tones and friendly faces
In a nightmare
Shadow beasts and hungry eyes

They fuel my desire to be ...

My pen begins to glide along the rough paper
A few words, hard pressed, appear like forgotten children
Suddenly their voices are not so loud
My eyes begin to focus only on the paper

A beautiful thing begins to form
An ornament to the chaos around me
I find a wonderful peace
And the words flow gently and with ease

The shadow beings float around me
Trying to disturb my bubble of genesis
There sounds cannot stop me, I do not fear them
These hateful beasts are helping me so

They fuel my desire to be ...


Details | Acrostic | |

WHERE IN THE WORLD are you

N ow I’m not one to complain.
O ther people think I’m insane,
W hen I tell them where I’m from.
H earing their laughter thumps like a drum.
E ach and every man jack or two,
R eally hates thinking my origins are true.
E arly on, I’ve rejected this questions’ repetitive drone,

M ore than once I’ve pinpointed my geographical zone.
A nswering the question, hope you’ll understand,
“N owhere man, from nowhere land!”

For the “where in the world are you?” contest,
With “a little help from my friends.”


Details | Narrative | |

Willow's Bluff

An eerie little poem for your enjoyment. 

It's fiction but inspired by a little cave I found this weekend on my woodsy walk ;)
(minus the ghostly whispers!  "OooooOOOO!" heheh) Also a bit of a message in this one. 


Willow's Bluff  (Part 1)
    by Amy Swanson   2.9.2009


The other day I found myself
restless and ill at ease, 
so I thought I'd take a walk
forget my cares in spring's warm breeze.

The forest was so beautiful
and trees, once dead, were turning green
I couldn't help but marvel
at life's mysteries I had seen.

I started on the well worn path
and thought I heard a sound;
it made me jump, I turned to look,
but no one was around.

The sunlight streamed so gloriously
upon my tear stained face
my heart felt light, forgotten cares
just being in this place.

And then it happened once again
I know I heard a noise!
I stopped now, to investigate
This hidden, quiet voice.

I wandered off the walker's trail
into the woods much deeper
I chanced upon a darkened cave
... and the cave's gatekeeper.

A mystical sight to behold
unearthly glowing light
it rose a bit up from the ground
then faded from my sight.

I made my way into the cave
mysteriously dark
and there it was... that voice again...
slowly I embarked

My flashlight shining at full force
was still not bright enough
to counter with this deepening dark
I'd found near Willow's Bluff. 

I heard the eerie whispers now
quite clearly, in my ear
first one, then two, now several more
and though my pioneer

spirit got me into this,
I felt that it was time to flee!
I turned and ran the opposite way
the voices though, were still with me!

I thought I knew the way back out
I tripped my way along
my flashlight flickered one last light
... I found that I was wrong...

somehow my turns had led me
down a path I did not know;
I turned to walk the other way -
but there was no place left to go.



*continue to Part 2*


Details | Cinquain | |

City Bus (Cinquain)

This bus
Carries mixed thoughts
The thinking zone on wheels
No talking, only wild thoughts
That’s us

© Jonathan, 4/6/08


Details | Free verse | |

Empty Apartment

No more icy showers,
No rats, no roaches,
I’ll never trek reluctantly,
Up your five flights again.

No more neighbors’ yelling,
No slumlords, no supers,
No longer will I freeze,
In your dark bitter space.

Though I’m cautious and weary,
Of the next empty apartment,
I’ll never look back,
Once I step out of your door.

No, no, don’t you worry,
There will always be another,
To suffer inside the hell,
Of your suffocating walls.

Where you will try to break them,
Confine and oppress them,
Until they are empty,
Just like you. Just like me.

*For Matt Caliri's "Empty Apartment" Contest


Details | Rhyme | |

Crumbling Castles

The castles built by human hands
crumble from the flood of years.
The moss that covers the ancient stones
are woven from nature's pool of tears.

A fabled dream of past nobility
haunts the aging body of rocks.
While the iron gates of stern dungeons
struggle to exist with rusted locks.

Spirits whisper within the frigid air,
leaving their stories upon the fairy tale grounds.
Winds caress the lofty towers,
singing over unmarked burial mounds.

These fading monuments of yesterday
reach out from mankind's dark past.
Museums of crumbling castles testify
that time's judgement arrives too fast.


Details | I do not know? | |

Corridors of silence

During the cold empty 
corridors of silence
where mind and thoughts
are free to roam
undisturbed by life's
din and clutter
I am at one with myself
again and in quiet contemplation
alone.

Peter Dome.Copyright.2012.


Details | Free verse | |

Concrete Jungle

So many millions of staring eyes
Vacant of souls to light the skies
All the noise! So much noise!
One can't hear thy inner voice
People shoving in a hurry
Upon their faces a look of worry
Rushing here and rushing there
Stopping not long enough to care
Such a mess all strewn with trash
Scurry. Scurry to get that cash
Out the window throw their cans
With no future thought for fellow man
Lungs aching from all the pollution
Yearning thoughts with no solution,
Came and saw. I stand alone
As to my place I call my home

Copyright © by Scarlett Anderson
Written 1/29/2010


Details | Narrative | |

Willow's Bluff, part 2

** continued from part 1, please read that one first **



Willow's Bluff  (Part 2)
   by Amy Swanson     2.9.2009


The whispers getting louder now,
my screams rose silently
trying to escape my lips,
my arms now  beating violently!

"Let me go! What do you want!?"
my mind's voice now demanded
of the whispering captors
who somehow held me, stranded.

The pressure of the moment
held me paralyzed with fear.
Oh how I wish I'd stayed away
and never come in here!

Tightening around my chest
and whispers growing still...
my mind was racing frantically,
my body felt a chill.


And then... a human voice... a light...
the sun gentle and warm...
my eyelids fluttered... I awoke,
completely safe from harm.

My husband leaned down close to me
and said "Are you all right?
You took a spill and konked your head,
you gave us all a fright."

Confused, I nodded slowly
and my eyes turned toward the river
the path I'd taken in my dream was there...!
I felt a shiver.

"Yes, yes, of course, I'm doing fine,
don't worry about me.
I'll be right there, you go ahead,
but first, there's something I must see."

I saw the path, still beckoning
it looked as in my dream...
a little further down the way
...the same unsettling theme.

The cave stood eerily in sight,
but I did not venture in.
A million questions to my mind,
this journey from within.

What did it mean? and how
could I explain what I had seen?
I chose to bury it down deep
and call it ... just a dream.

They say that only fools rush in
where angels fear to tread
walking down an unknown path
can lead straight to the dead.

One thing for certain, deep inside
I know this was not fluff -
so if you find an unknown path...
beware of Willow's Bluff.


Details | Ballade | |

Cave dweller

Cave Dweller.

Once there lived a little man
A dwarf yet smaller still
Who lived within a little cave
All cold and darkness filled
He'd lived there such a long, long time
And knew he nothing more
That there was nothing better he was sure.

Then this maiden fair and beautiful
She ventured in his cave.
Her eyes were blue like crystal gems
For her most men would crave.
When the little man discovered her
With the candle in her hand
He saw a nymph so beautiful and grand

The maiden told that lonely man
About the beauty of the world
She spoke about the wings of a butterfly
All Gossamer unfurled
And she spoke of lush green meadows
And the flowers by and by
That lady spoke, her tone so very wise.

But that dwarf when she had finished
Sadly sighed and shook his head
For the thought of leaving his snug cage
Did feel his heart with dread
And he told that lady wistfully
That her fine land was not for he
For he was born to live this misery.

Socrares Dec 8 2003.


Details | Free verse | |

Room with a View

Room with a View
     by Amy Swanson   12/2008

~ Written for someone dear to me ~



She sits alone
     this quiet room
            feels so empty

echoes her quiet scream.


She barely catches 
     just a glimpse
          of one lonely tree branch

it seems to mock her;


Saying, see,
     I am alone
          but I am free

and you are not.


Why did life
     turn out this way?
            Why is it so difficult

just to live?


Hot tears fall down;
      she silently prays
            that God will somehow rescue her

from this place.


The hours go by;
     days and minutes
               all turn into months

and years -


At times it seems unbearable
      where did the time go?
              Where did life go?

joys exchanged for fears


She sighs so deep
      within her spirit
               just another day -

they are all the same.


But she is resigned
      to this hollow existence
             weary silence

in this room with a view.


Details | Haiku | |

The Knowledge of Nothing

The path looms ahead
Naïve, my feet press forward
Now I know nothing.


Details | Sonnet | |

Never-Ending

In the center I sit.
Unraveling a core,
I lay it by the shore.
It’s a wondrous fit.
 
It is in pieces by a bit.
It sails an ocean floor.
It has a rip where tore.
It makes the seas split.
 
It travels day and night.
A never-ending drift,
It is brilliantly bright.
Moving along so swift!
 
It travels a path lit by a Star,
Rendering miles that are afar!
 
 
© Copyright: Ann Rich   2007


Details | Rhyme | |

Emotions Like Knots

Like a tangled mess, stubborn knots
Emotions like this exist in me a lot
I begin to untangle, starting with ease
Relaxed in the moment, some therapy

Then I get stuck here and there in spots
Following the string in its twisted path
Two steps forward then one step back
Testing how far I will stay on this track

Lots of twisted, turns and loops
Emotions swirling like hula hoops
It’s just a knot, that’s all it is
Why get worked up deep to my core

Emotions are just like a knot at times
Carrying them subconsciously all our life
Taking us on a roller coaster ride
To places we hide, places that are new

Maybe if I dealt with, understood my emotions
Then maybe my knots wouldn’t be so hard to undo!


Details | Blank verse | |

Ink and Paper History

Black and white photographs
Ink and paper history
Of  faces and places unknown to me
Images faded, edges tattered and worn
Stored in the small wooden box where dolls once lived
Retrieved from the closet when relatives come
Together they  laugh and remember 
The car, the house, the dog, the war
The friends who have since passed on
Promising that some day 
They will note the names and the places - 
But each time the box is retrieved 
The memories fade 
Like the names and the faces
Of the friends who are now gone.


Details | Rhyme | |

A Resolution for This time

A Resolution for This Time
(Based on Eccl. 3:1-15)
©2011 C. Brent Cloyd

I long to see the beauty of my time
Hear music from eternal bells that chime
Enjoy earth, till this good life I sever
Look toward heaven that last forever

I’ll grasp my part in each life occasion 
Banish thoughts and deeds of ill persuasion
Accept God’s design for each life season
Submit that I need not know His reason

I will celebrate life so wondrous born
Understand that death is not always scorn
Propagate goodness and wholeness in life
And uproot that which causes pain and strife

I’ll concede it’s sometimes proper to kill
But until convinced I’ll promote goodwill
Useless things I will tear down and destroy
Then plan to build, and work efforts deploy

I will comfort the hearts of those forlorn
Together find God’s healing as we mourn
Dare to dream, love, have hope, and take a chance
Embrace the moment, laugh, and learn to dance

I’ll speak with passion, let pieces scatter
Gather the fragments, avoid the chatter
Engage opinions, proceed with a shrug
When acceptable, open arms and hug

For things of value I’ll search at great cost
When searching is exhausted count it lost
When usefulness has ended, throw away
But don’t allow important things to stray

Now is the time to tear some things apart
Then with care I’ll mend and make a new start
Learn the lesson that silence is golden
Of words fitly said men are beholden

I pledge to hate what is cruel and unjust
Teach that kindness and fairness are a must
In war, anger and malice find release
But I’ll use my voice to encourage peace

Yesteryear’s events once again will be
To measure their success we wait and see
God’s deeds are good, lasting and without flaw
Of Him and His works I will gaze in awe.


Details | I do not know? | |

Yonder Setting Sun

I have taken my final arrow,
My race has now been run
I’ll depart from here and go in peace
Into yonder setting sun

I will climb aboard the ship of death 
And cross the chilling tide
I will go to yonder setting sun
As on this ship I will ride

I will not fear what lies ahead,
Or what I cannot tell
I’ll stand upon the bough and wave
To this life farewell

I will now close my eyes in death,
Weary from the race I’ve run
As upon the bough of death’s ship I will ride
To yonder setting sun


Details | Sonnet | |

The Embracing

I cut through tedious chit-chat,
Null knick-knacks!
Zap Idiotic whacks!
I tip toe tapping atop pitters pat.
I’m your best bet seated where you once sat.
Smearing out your tad-bit lacks,
Running them out by the packs,
I tip my hat fancying you purr like my fat-cat.

Up and away my hands shall uplift weights like you.
In and out of reality I’ll take you with me everywhere.
If only you knew how well I’m too do getting through.
Do you think one day to obtain me to be eh unaware?

Personally, I’d charge a big fat whacked out idiotic fee for the likes of thee,
I’m declared as freely expressing many pleasures for the embracing of me.

® Registered: 2010 Ann Rich


Details | Nonet | |

Spinning Round In Passage

Spying on occupants of interplanetary Earth,
All hands aboard, their watching us now,
And have been since the planets very disrupting birth.

Moving closely now and hide being their sun,
Catching how we hold away their gun,
And study how it circles around every thing,
About it and how it works.
 
Wide open now we're nearly done,
I just want to show them the quirks,
Stuff we have done and how we've been having fun,
Scooting round our dirt, Finding out the sum,
So we can see past our sun I want to show them the perks.

Like how we hold them closer now but can see clearly past,
where they have traveled and really how hard they have worked. 
We see clearly now and no one understands how but now we see how Their system lurks and their almost past us now, thats really fast,
How they travel I can't believe we've intertwined and I am grieving down, 
Because I don't know how but we've watched them now,
And they go on by, I guess our planet Earth succeeds us now,
And it's as if God has put us formerly to work.
 
  Chain letters


Details | Free verse | |

Pateince

Carnelian robes permeate dreamtime landscapes
of parchment and prayer flag.
Smiling faces walk swiftly
through corridors of ancient walls
carved from living mountains,
spinning cylindrical wheels in their wake.

Patience of a thousand, thousand years,
we wait for peace.

Eagle feathers jounce
as soft moccasins dance heartbeat
on the prairie hair of Mother Earth.
Sacred sisters hold position in jingle dress rhythms
offering prayer pipes to their men,
who burn sweet grass as they fancy dance past.

Patience of a thousand, thousand years,
we wait for peace.

Hula dancers waft sea breeze
in the heat waves of Pele’s fire.
Warrior lines pace boundary between the worlds,
as molten lands part the waters
and oasis the humble in a paradise
where lei lines encircle life.

Patience of a thousand thousand years,
we wait for peace.

Condor circles as mountains spirits speak
telling stories of forever and ever.
Ancient peoples gather in raindrop mists
to nourish the living land
and feed the collective soul
the medicine of dreams.

Patience of a thousand, thousand years,
we wait for peace.

“Imagine all the people” sound waves and ipods
park bench hosts to afternoon drummers,
as momentum gathers
inner city gardeners and beekeepers
buzzing to the cyber shifts
of “sharing all the world”.

Patience of a thousand, thousand years
we wait for peace.


Details | Personification | |

A Special Place

Places! 
I have been to many, yours and mine!
So much seen with these eyes!
I’ve walked the lonely highways night and day,
Powered with great energy to just run away,
I have crawled so deep within myself just to find you.
Running with a bleeding mind with so many views!
I have a special place that I come to.
It‘s extra silent!
My time to be quite!
It’s completely in sync!
My time to think!
It’s so beautiful!
My time to feel wonderful!
It’s a special place that I find plentiful!

Places! 
So many I’ve already been! 
But many I have still never seen!
I have thought many times of my broken dreams, time and time again,
Powered with great energy to just run free with the wind,
Sunsets and sunrises capturing my view,
So many to come with a gleam that shines through you!
I have a special place that I come to.
I have many visions that I see.
A world untouched and unscathed by its common ground,
Touching a very special place inside of me!
Such a blessing I have found.
It’s extra special!
My only pedestal!
It‘s without pain!
My only gain!
It‘s so exceptional!
My only interval,
And it’s completely unconditional!


Details | Rhyme | |

Christ Stepped Down From His Heavenly Throne

Christ Stepped Down From His Heavenly Throne! Christ stepped down, from his heavenly throne. He came to earth… For 33 years, he called it his home! His mission had one purpose and desire in mind! He was to one day, be a sacrifice for mankind! He taught and gave us his words, powerfully spoken! He knew that one day, his body would be broken! He desired that all, would one day, come to know him! Because of his resurrection, all can receive him! He’s alive today! And reigns from heaven above! And desires to touch us, with his endless love! Won’t you humbly come, and accept what he’s given? And experience the power, of being forgiven! This can be your moment! This can be YOUR day! He loves you much more, than words can say! All honor and praise, to Christ Jesus, our king! You are our righteousness! Our everything! By Jim Pemberton


Details | Free verse | |

The Eternal Infernos of Pain

Front and Center!
Those Gates adorned with pearls in Heaven.
White angels soaring. 

If by chance, 
Ordered to enter;
Through St. Peter's Permission; 
I demand from you chancellor; 
A swift insanity plea, submission. 
For this troubled soul is plagued, 
By vast displays of wicked ways. 

None lost. 
Courtesy of meticulous examination. 
Love lost. 

Diligence pending Investigation. 
Key Evidence, perpetually documented 
In Sin's ominous catalog. 
Rebuke my Judge! 
For multitudes of shortcomings, 
He failed to ascertain. 

Moreover, present was He, 
When Satan drafted me. 
First round,
Pick three.
His Fantasy League...
"The Eternal Infernos of Pain" 

JS Lambert



Details | Haiku | |

Snow, Winter's Long Quilt

Snow, Winter’s long quilt,
Land’s white, night beauty treatment....
Future drink for spring.


Details | Lyric | |

I'm Sleeping Outside

I've tried to tamper with such precious time
Looked forward and back with open eyes
I wonder about the day I'll die
Will there be rain or shine?
Maybe both, maybe none
As I speak another life has begun
Wish them luck as they carry on
Bewildered within these starry nights
I thought of time when I have lied
Oh such precious time
It flies
(im sleeping outside)
Signs and dreams lead me to believe
That somehow, some way
I'll be something great
Do I choose to be nieve?
They'll never know
Do I choose to be so weak?
It'll never show
(I'll be sleeping outside)
Love is such a clishey it seems
Something I could only see
Her eyes drew us in like summer heat 
Cupids arrows were made of clay
Oh yes I've longed for this day
I knew I wasnt lying anymore
(I always sleep outside
where the weather is nice
I can feel everything for what it's worth
dont give me signs or written lines
give me your solid words)


Details | Cowboy | |

Lessons I Have Learned

A handshake speaks volumes, keep it firm & strong
Learn from your mistakes & admit when you're wrong
Stand your ground when you know you're right
Never drop your guard or waver in a fight

Never give up & put your best in all you do
Follow your heart & to yourself stay true
May every word match every deed
Always lend a hand to those in need

Things turn out better when you take time to pray
A light heart & hard work keep the storm clouds at bay
Hold your friends close for each is a treasure
In your family, look always for solace & pleasure

A light touch on the reins is only half the battle
Make sure you set deep & tall in the saddle
Treat horse & man with equal respect
When asked for advice, be kind but direct

There's a bright side to even the darkest day
You'll gain more from life if a smile leads the way
A true friend is one who cannot be bought
These are a few of the lessons I've been taught

By those who have guided me throughout my life
My  wellspring of wisdom to rely on in times of strife

© December 2003



Details | Quatrain | |

Light in Darkness

I lost myself in dense darkness Leading into a quagmire-like place My mind do have shrewdness But this time it's not the case Only fools lead owns self astray In the place of no light Where it's senseless to take flight Place's price you need to pay There is a place of light But why go to the night It shows we are foolish We make our own life hellish Indeed, most of the time we are idiotic But need not to be frantic Because by God light was created So that in darkness we can be guided


Details | Pantoum | |

The Twisted Kudzu Vine

Remembering America when clothesline displayed wash
The yesteryear clotheslines of our country have mostly gone
Gone with the same way of old fashioned outdated panache
Panache as when women dressed decent_men tipped hats agone

The yesteryear  clotheslines of our country have mostly gone
Disappeared from view like Johnny Cash's song "I Walk The Line"
Panache as when women dressed decent_men tipped hats agone
Morals, good principles have been twisted like Kudzu Vine

Disappeared from view like Johnny Cash's song "I Walk The Line"
Gone with the same way of old fashioned outdated panache
Morals, good principles have been twisted like Kudzu Vine
Remembering America when clothesline displayed wash


Details | Cowboy | |

Things Change

Now, I find it kind of funny how quickly things change
Once was a time when everyone wanted a home on the range
A place where they had room to stretch & grow
Out where the cattle bawl & the west winds  blow

The city folk have all gone country or so they’d like to think
Why, there are new houses going up faster than you can blink
You remember that prime grazing lease? Take another look
Its looking more & more like an architect’s pop-up book

They come out here to escape all the big city worries & trouble
They said they weren’t concerned if their commute doubled
Now they are talking of bringing a super market in
And an increase in crime spreads our deputies thin

They thought that grazing cattle made a picture quite quaint
Now those same cows holding up traffic is an oft heard complaint
They throw out words like eco-friendly & enviromental plan
then scrape the land as clean as momma’s griddle pan

Yes, everybody wants a home out on the range
And I am just a cowboy trying to reconcile the change
I watch the valley whittled down into an urban scene
 and wish that I was back again in childhood fields of green

(c) Februaury 2004


Details | Free verse | |

another very colorful day

late for work, but had to
yield to the ambulance with flashing lights

raspberry slurpee spilled on important papers
as my brakes shrieked at the STOP sign

ran up the stairs to beat  the elevator
slipped and broke my sparkling cherry nails 

then noticed slurpee  spots on my 
just-perfect blouse, giving it a deeper color

entered morning meeting embarassed,
with flushed face and blood-vessel eyes

my heart pumped excessively as I felt
my source of life flow from head to toe

sat down and stared at a flowing flag outside--
stripes reminded me of my eventful morning 

Left work, thanking God for the
redemptive blood of the cross

that helped me to get through
another very colorful day




Details | Rhyme | |

I'm all around!

Take yourself now to His beautiful scape. Our vast green earth is His human drape. This ‘backdrop’ if you will, in this play called life, with His props that are free, they’re all within sight. Look around – and then take a seat. Lift your palms upward, cross your legs and your feet. Indian style will ready you, for what you are about to do. Now look again at your props at hand, a tree, or a brook, a bird or a man. Let your spirit be still and listen now. He’ll begin to direct you. You’ll soon see how. Quiet your mind and let Him in. This consultative measure begins from within. Breathe now child, you’ll hear Him say. Take me with you throughout your day. Breathe once more and open your mind. Be gentle today, and loving and kind. I send you My love through all that you see. When you look around please think of Me. No matter where or how far your day leads, Come back to this place when you feel the need. Your stage has been set, go out for My cause. Give your love to others and feel my applause. I gave you this life for a purpose you know. To love and share, and continue to grow. Walk with Me in the today’s and tomorrow’s. My arms are yours in times of sorrow. Remember I’m here, while awake or asleep. I will wipe away tears, kiss your face as you weep. My direction for you is to go out and be, all of the things that remind you of Me! Soon night will come, let the curtains just fall. Take a breath and then stretch, and hear My call. It’s time my child to get tucked into bed. Relax and rest your weary head. Breathe again, you’re safe and sound. Remember this morning? I’m all around!
Michelle D. ©August 8, 2010


Details | Narrative | |

Mineral Baths - Saratoga Springs NY

Mineral Baths Saratoga Springs NY

She covers her private 
parts at the bath house. 
Mineral water fills a tub, 
centuries old. 
She feels cold until 
an old Women hands 
her heated sheets... 
now, her skin covered. 
Brought her clips to lift 
her auburn hair. 
The sheets cooled as the 
tub, now filled. 

A stray cat 
peers into the window... 
purrs, kissing glass. 
The old Women 
removes the sheet, takes  
the hand of a young lady 
as she carefully 
steps into aged porcelain. 
Tiny bubbles 
surround her skin. 

A soft pillow for her head... 
Now, relax. . . she tells herself,
dreaming of the 
cat kissing glass. . . 
alone, at last.

Nancy Duci Denofio


Details | Free verse | |

Santa Monica, CA

Children of the iron curtain 

Stripped of God from birth, 

Crawling on a toothless wall - 

Question marks on compass. 

Chicks growing colored wings, 

Door unlocked - unable to believe 

Sunrise doesn't come with bars 

For those who can still fly... 

No man's land - unable to catch roots, 

Holograph of gardens back home 

Tended by parents with disrupted movements, 

Tears muffled on the California coast... 

Children of the iron curtain... 

Each sunset gathers them on beaches 

Champion chess players of their fate 

Stop and salute me as I drive along 

alone...



 check the definition of "The Iron Curtain"


Details | Rhyme | |

Another Year That Came and Went


This has been another year that came and went!
I often wonder, where has my time been spent?

It  seems like yesterday, we rang in the new year!
But, very quickly, it has all just “disappeared.”

I think about my accomplishments, goals and dreams.
Do they matter anymore?  Do they mean anything?

This life I have, is just but a brief moment in time.
One day, I’ll simply leave everything fast behind!

My relationship with Christ is what really matters!
Everything else in life, is just “empty chatter!”

I pray that as this new year comes and goes…
My relationship with Christ will continue to grow!

The older I get, I’m beginning to see!
I need much more of Jesus, and less of me!

He is what’s needed!  Whatever this year holds!
I need him more, as each year I grow old!

With each year, that comes and passes me by…
I want more of Jesus, until the day I die!

He is my friend, what is certainly needed!
With him in me, my life is completed!

Thank you Lord for this brand new year!
You are the one I’ll hold ever so dear!

By Jim Pemberton   


Details | Couplet | |

Polar Bears And The Penguins

Some times they say the great and mighty do fall…
And the penguin story of greatness, should be heard by all.
Polar bears are mighty and cunning with massive brute strength.
But they messed with the penguins, a mistake, I do think.

The polar bears went after the penguins and cute little chicks.
So you’ll never guess what those cute little penguins did.
Using the most courageous penguins as a target so nice.
They lured all the polar bears, for the first time, out onto the ice.

The greedy bears moved out in force for the kill.
But the penguins pushed the ice flows into the currents windmill.
So intent on dinner and full of themselves, were they that day… 
That the polar bears didn’t notice the ice caught in the currents sway.

The polar bears were way out to sea, before noticing their plight.
And, by then, the penguins were safely at home tucked in for the night.
You might say, the current was a friend to the penguins that day.
For it eventually sent those polar bears to the North Pole far away.

Now the moral of this story is here to easily understand.
Brute strength is not the greatest thing to cherish; it is far greater to plan…
And, never turn your back on a penguin I say.
They’re the reason there’s no polar bears at the South Pole, to this day.

Tell Me A Story Contest


Details | Rhyme | |

SHE RAN AWAY WITH THE CIRCUS

                        SHE RAN AWAY WITH THE CIRCUS

                         The neighbor‘s daughter ran away
                         Gwen is gone .....her brothers say
                             When the circus left the town
                            She was nowhere to be found

                       I heard them whisper –all the biddies
                           While they tended little kiddies…
                               …..With the circus.....
                                  Did you know it?
                          How that mousey girl could blow it!
                             Throw away her farm girl life
                           Plans to be a farm boy’s wife .

                        Who would want to see a  city
                           Drink excitement with the witty--
                         Who would want to fly the coop
                        Jump the jump and hop the hoop?

                       Oh-- those biddies dream their nights
                               Of Gwen-stolen guy in tights
                          How he grabs that sly trapeze
                       Sails the tent with cat-stealth ease.

                              Me--I wish that girl the best
                           Hope she’s happy and the rest
                                  Wish I had the guts to run
                              Find out what is west of sun

                                 But I’d rather read about it
                          Let the others scream and shout it
                                  When I think about her daring
                                 I envy her for not despairing

                                  May her dearest prayers come true
                               And her skies flash starlight blue
                               Hope the circus shapes her life
                                 Wilder than a cardboard wife.


Victoria Anderson-Throop
09/13/2012


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

'HEALING'

The beauty I see in things 
makes me so sad....
For when I find something beautiful,
It may never be quite that way again.

A summer day
an autumn breeze
a color in a sunset....
your warm hand held in mine.

Why do i still hear your name....
in my head....
Faint,
tired....
so tired.....
almost dead.

My soul still whispers to God for you 
without me even thinking....
So thoughtless,
hopeless,
longing,
sadly dreaming. 

Unbearable.......
That sweet old dream of being in your arms 
my frame stood secure in yours
You were thin and warm and sturdy.....
soft coat of yours so cozy.................
Your face emanating ‘happy’....

Too soon, you began to fade away......
In tears I closed my eyes 
and held on tight.....
Oh, I couldn’t bear to watch you disappear again
But I felt it, all right.....

Your memory....
I’ll stuff in the dark of my mind 
in an ebony box
And keep it so tightly shut....
Tied with a long, dripping ribbon of blood

And thus my healing has begun.....
But I’ll still be on the run.........

No love deserves to live so long...
then die alone, so painfully.
Never again will this soul feel so trapped---
so helpless----
and so...........free......................


sorrylittlesharky.com


Details | Rhyme | |

If We Lose Everything There's Jesus

If We Lose Everything… There’s Jesus! We have seen the destruction of various storms! They come swiftly and in many forms! So many people have lost everything they had. I see their look on t.v. And it’s very sad! I wish I had the money to buy them a home. So many look lonely and feel all alone! I wish I could “wave a wand” and make it go away. I wish to encourage them, with what I have to say In spite of all of our nation’s goals and ambitions. It can’t make up for life’s adversities and afflictions. Calamity and heartache can quickly appear! And much of what we have. can soon disappear! If I can encourage the many who’ve lost so much… I pray you’ll be strengthened by God’s loving touch! Won’t you let him help pick up the “broken pieces?” He can bring hope and total completeness! He’ can build and restore that which has been loss! He does it willingly! And already paid the cost! It may seem like you have just lost everything… You have no idea, what kind of comfort, Christ can bring! Won’t you allow him to restore your life today??? He’s more than able to do it, in a gentle and loving way! By Jim Pemberton


Details | Rhyme | |

This world just isn't for me

To go on as the living in this dream.
Life passes me by like a stream.
I need to wake up and come back.
But everything this world has, that one lacks.

In here everything I do is right, so why awake?
In that other world, all I do is make mistakes.
People telling you you aren't good enough.
They tore right through me, as if I played a bluff.

What can that world provide that this one cannot?
You say love, but love is a feeling I long ago forgot.
The touch and warmth of another body and soul?
The comfort I do miss, but not if its me they control

Out there is a scary place, and we say were free.
If I ask for help, they will turn their back on me.
You say they won't, but they've already proven it.
Look at the starving and homeless, on them they quit.

Why would it be different if we went ahead and tried?
They would see us, look down, then push us to the side.
I'm sorry, but this is the one place where I can be free.
I wish I could go there with you, but that world isn't for me.


Details | Than-Bauk | |

a mess still looms

weary congress,
on recess, while
a mess still looms


Details | Sonnet | |

Matted Layers

I came from behind and my God at what I saw.
I was astonished and in disbelief seen by you.
I counted exact minutes with the seconds too.
But I stood there intact with no lines to draw.
 
There are many versions of Grace Verse’s law.
So I read through them one by one until blue.
So I picked up the torch it was all I could do.
I was a flame burning stoked in complete awe.
 
I gave glory to the Sun and Moon,
I exalted a few Stars along my way.
I even rode in on a cloud at noon,
It was a bright beautiful blessed day.
 
But there were matted layers of deception,
I guess you can only imagine my reception.
 
 
© Copyright: Ann Rich   2006


Details | Couplet | |

JAIL BIRD

            JAIL BIRD

To U.S. born both wild and free
There is no worse place one could be
Than in a prison cell for years
For most men ‘tis a gruesome fear

But to souls in other lands
Where freedom’sjust a word that stands
On paper-- but an object dead--
With it you cannot bake your bread.

In movies in these lands they watch
Thugs whose pants fall off their crotch.
Who off to court they go-- then jail--
No mention made of tears or bail

Third Worlds watch the U.S. cells
That should resemble Dante’s hell.
Instead they look so germ free clean
Like the quarters of a Queen

Luxury in killer's cell?
How can thieves live-- oh so --well
U.S. jail is no bad life--
Well, you might miss someone's wife

As one boss of one small store
Told me-- as he scrubbed his floor:
“Me, I'll fly to U.S. land
Kill some guy and live so grand."

His tune said joke-- but it was not--
(U.S. TV makes brains rot)

But-- twas no secret-- truth could tell
He'd snuggle in Obama's cell.








Victoria Anderson-Throop ©               December 1, 2012


Details | Rhyme | |

Our God Reigns


Our God Reigns…

Our God reigns in the heaven’s above!
Behold the mighty works of his power and love!

Our God reigns in the mountains on high!
His power reaches down to the deserts so dry!

Our God reigns on his heavenly throne!
He wants to be the Lord of our hearts and homes!

Our God reigns over the majestic seas!
His creation is magnificent!  This you can see!

Our God reigns over governments here on earth.
He gave his son, so we can have a “new birth.”

Our God is mighty!  Everyone shall kneel before him!
He longs for us to worship and adore him!

Our God has made a mansion for you in heaven.
He wants to be your God!  Won’t you let him?

Our God stands knocking at your heart’s door.
Won’t you let him in?  What are you waiting for?


By Jim Pemberton


Details | Verse | |

The Frigid

A trail of twinkling city lights
The land where my fancies take flight
And soar across hazy hues of neon
When to dreamland folk are gone

I step into their dreams to peak
What their concrete hearts seek
In their unconsciousness of purity
I just wake up with new found surety

I'll never find the truth of life
The sense and reason of the strife

Its far too bright in the city night
The darkness within obscures my sight
As mine as theirs and the falsehood
That their whole lives withstood

But those who learn the emotional game
Receive fame,accolades and acclaim
And I look up at the sparkling city lights
The sparkle seems a lot less bright

The lights are just a facade to allure
To all the vice, the sin and all impure
And its an eternal epitome of falsity
With our souls and hearts in complicity

Now our lives belong to this frigidity
Yearning for warmth and simplicity


Details | Rhyme | |

The Sacred Path's

Follow me to the metaphysical plains where spirits graze, 
we'll get lost in the darkest parts of the forest for days, 
following any direction that nature sways, 
ocular perceptions in a Kaleidoscopic maze, 
ascending infinitely in a spiritual phase, 
psychedelically extracting thoughts the mind never portrays, 
nostalgia quickly decays, 
there was never a place for us among society anyways.


Details | Free verse | |

about the ashes

Mnemosyne's colour wheel glitches through August,
on that candid orange the dogs howled into
during our autumn countdown.
When we still had a countdown.
When we still had August. 

I remember the moonlight traveling westward 
and seeing your face lined with silver.
I remember Artemis taking an emergency exit and landing,
landing in the closest pool of warmth. You, you, you.
And I remember dreaming. I remember testing 
what the world was like outside of you.

The singed leaves remind me how to breathe
on this street, the same way you used to.
I am learning about the ashes.
Sometimes we must burn the atlas
before charting ourselves from scratch.
Sometimes love must die, first.

In heaven's attic, even angels lose their meaning.
Returning only, when someone remembers:
the attic is still a part of home.
When touching means dust on your fingers.
When suddenly, you are intruding.


Details | Senryu | |

One Must Touch The Earth

 
one could ride a horse
what use then would be your feet
one must touch the earth
 
(c) Christine A Kysely All Rights Reserved
 (November 10th, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin USA)


Details | I do not know? | |

Professional Divorcé

Lost in emotions
Two souls approaching new path
Bitterness adorned


Forgetting love, possibly they shared.
Reasoning on the fights, they had bared.
Manly disfiguring blow.
So possible you know.
Now departing, both no longer  paired.


Marriages four, divorced three times now in this life of mine.

If another comes my way, next lover shall be a glass of wine..




For
Sponsor (Destroyer ((Poet 
Contest Name ~DIVORCE CLUB~ 


Details | Rhyme | |

Poetry About Poetry

Shades of color bounce within
Singing their hues dancing in place
Vivid lines colored outside
Rules broken with empty space
A midnights dream heard and seen
Gleaming from the twinkle of a eye
Wings touched flown and plucked
Gliding like a bird up in the sky
Wishes from pennies thrown into tears
The reservoir over flowing with pigments of pain
Drowning from the shadows 
The flood paints the day
Words speak volumes of silence hidden
Their sounds blind to what they see
Mirrors of nouns and verbs 
Their meaning and secrets lost at sea
Emotions ruled by laws of language
Spelled in boxes of glass
Melted from sands inside
That voices strangle to grasp


Details | Triolet | |

Totally Decayed

The dead tree still stands totally decayed
Could be modern Sodom and Gomorrha
Babylon that Revelation's story told
The dead tree still stands totally decayed
Vision of tree came to me and stayed
What...is that tree ..America that I love
The dead tree still stands totally decayed
Could be modern Sodom and Gomorrha

(Genesis 19, 1Kings 14:24, Isaiah 13:1, 14:22, Revelation 14:8, 16:19 references that could 
apply.)


Details | Free verse | |

Once A Stairwell

I lost myself with you here
Where the heavens and trees weave a canopy
Of silhouette and starlight
A safe haven of innocent love
To which only I now reminisce 

Here I fill the void with phantoms
Forlorn moments of you and I 
Almost remembered feelings of discovery
Where exhilaration blanketed us
In impulsively tossed protection

On those oppressive and humid summer nights
Sleeping in the protection of your embrace
Breathing sweet ardor
I silently confessed of my spirit
Parching that eternal thirst of you

With no care for consequence
We discovered paradises and agony
Sitting upon this crumbling staircase we once ascended
I spy the traces of the moments once shared
Pallid confetti blowing away

And stepped over in the unseen cracks…


Details | I do not know? | |

Forever Somewhere

Watch me as I shoot across the midnight sky
Looking almost as beautiful as I am fast
I do my best to try not to die
But we both know that I cannot last

Flames and faith blazing as I go
Because I know that just up around the bend
Is forever somewhere that I do not know
Is forever somewhere near my sweetest friend
Is forever somewhere where I still love you so
and forever somewhere near my bitter end..


Details | Blank verse | |

Mass Graves

There isn't a mass grave in my neighborhood
a creek has never flooded
(there is no creek, after all)
and bones have not surfaced.

A bulldozer never grinds to a halt
stayed by a smiling white skull.
The driver doesn’t jump down
doesn’t sift through the remains
kneeling there on the plot.

I once found a grey limb
jutting out from a hill.
I hoped it was a bone
maybe a femur from yore,
the last limb of a virulent Ute
protecting his home—
built by him
with his arms and legs
with the tools of the plains.

His scalp no more,
his skin long gone
but the bone remaining
still staking claim
for the living and free.

But it wasn’t a bone—
it was a tree limb
because there aren’t graves in my neighborhood.
There aren’t even real trees
or game trails;
there aren’t survivors
or failures
let alone corpses and fleas
And the only war left to fight
is against omnipresent me.


Details | Free verse | |

The City LIghts


At night the city glows with a thousand lights,
Towers of steel silhouetted against the sky.
They show their might without restraint...
Full of mystery and the promise of untold delights.

The dawn breaks, revealing the tired grey of concrete,
The perfume of crowded streets and sidewalks.
People hurrying to spend their days inside...
Afraid to notice the huddled figure in the doorway.

There is no living memory of waving grass,
Or flowing brook, the warriors step upon the land.
Architecture built on the bones of the past...
Burying a time and place of a different grandeur.

The wind blows around the harsh corners,
A tattered paper skitters fitfully down the way
Voices echoing down the dark alleys...
Whispering again and again of the progress of man.


My city..San Francisco. Gorgeous by night, like other cities by day.



Details | Free verse | |

A Stranger Asked A Question Of Me

A stranger walked up
And asked of me
"Where in the world are you?"
I paused for a second, then answered him this:
 
Oh where in the world am I?
I think I got lost again,
Probably somewhere along the lines of my pen.
But am I even in the world to begin?
I mean,
Body i am, but what is the world?
The planet we live on...?
That seems such a small world.
Or is there no world,
My minds in my pen,
Is the world as insubstantial,
As the breeze or the wind?

So I'm not in a world,
Not physically at least.
Well I am in the world,
But my mind's not at least.
My mind has its own world,
The one for of mentioned,
That world is in color,
Of unseen dimension.
Emotions exist there,
But so does the mind
Though on different planes of existence,
Though both intertwined.

You asked me where I am,
And I told you the truth;
As to where I am, I have not a clue.
So now I have a question and an answer for you;
If you know the answer, why ask if you knew?
The question you want is different though dear,
You want to know where you are,
So you ask us unclear,
Of the answer you seek
Or the meaning to find.
So find your own meaning,
Since I've now told you mine.


Details | Senryu | |

jobless claims

congressmen claim they’re
working for our happiness
while we crave for JOBS!


Details | Rhyme | |

An Immersion Of Perversion

It seems like there’s almost been a total immersion… Of so many people engaging in perversion! Many are “sin’s slave.” And don’t know what to do! Be careful! It could happen to me and you! Just turn on the television! And you will find… People with very warped and confused minds! All you have to do is read Romans chapter one. And you’ll see the “moral fabric” is being undone! In this passage it makes it so very clear… The wrath of God against evil is very near! The wrath of God is revealed against unrighteousness! He’s a God of truth! And demands holiness! No matter how many laws may say it’s “o.k.” We need to really read what God’s word has to say! God is here and he really wants to teach us… No matter our sin… He can always reach us! The wages of sin is death… But God gives life everlasting! A victorious life in Christ… Is yours for the asking! Why not serve the God who created the heavens above? And be filled with his peace, mercy and love??? By Jim Pemberton


Details | Narrative | |

SEA TO SHINNING SEA

SEA TO SHINNING SEA,
 
...this is so intimate of time, as a first kiss of time is...so close of soul, so near, so dear of heart beat, so precious a rhyme that flows so intimately,
 
deep of time, down by the Crystal Seas...
 
...this is so intimate of dreams,
dreaming reality,
 
as the Crystal Sea so reveals of destinies galore,
sparkles,
destined as the night light of the moon-glows of starry eyes,
upon the waters,
 
...gazing
 
...seeing tranquility upon the waves...
watching to the depth of a dream,
and a sun-rise
 
being so true...
 
for underneath and within this a moon-lit poem of starry night eyes, down by the Crystal Seas, a vessel sets sail upon the deep...into a kiss of dawn...
 
Sea to shinning Sea.
 
mb(2011)
 


Details | Couplet | |

Heaven Can Wait

<                                            left behind
           
                                              how divine


                                              his choosing

                                               my losing


                                            unfinished work

                                              must  assert

                                         
                                           I truly understand

                                         " God's"  choice in plan

         
                                     for " He " needs bigger wings

                                            to carry all my things

                                    
                                    and when those clouds spread eagle

                                      it will become finalized and legal


                                              my final destination

                                        will be "Heaven's" sensation


                                         and the reunion will be nil

                                     with family and friends lying still


                                       
                                               so for now I'll wait

                                       for my sweet "Lord" to set the date


                                              to return for only me

                                            in  clouds more of three




Entry For 
Catie Lindsey's 
Left Behind Contest
Gl All

                                         

                                


                                                 



                                            

                                            


                          

                                               

                                            



                                    


Details | Free verse | |

Dusk

As the leaves fall to the ground,
I see the glowing sun slip to the horizon.
A soft wind blows with a cooling sound,
And clouds march across the skies.

The amber disk falls earthward,
Giving the clouds a heavenly glow.
The wind swirls the leaves,
Forming omens in the air.

I go to leave this scene,
I watch all that goes on,
And witness a beauty that will come again,
With every day, from dusk to dawn.


Details | Rhyme | |

God Asked Come Unto Me

 God Asked; “Come Unto Me…”

God called my name…. 
I didn’t know what to expect!
The words he spoke.  I won’t forget!

What he said to me….  I remember so vividly.
I woke me up in the night so unexpectedly!

As I heard the words, I jumped out of bed.
I wanted to hear what my Lord said.

He spoke, and wanted me to follow him!
I decided to obey and trust him as my friend!

What he desired, was to have a servant’s heart!
He was there for me!  
Right from the start!

My worldly possessions…  I left behind!
A new treasure in Christ…  I did find!

Many of my “past habits” began to leave me!
As I felt God’s awesome love all around me!

My life and attention were now decided.
Everything I needed...  
 God provided!

I chose to follow him 100 percent!
Fellowship with my creator,
is time well spent!

He’s my blessed savior and I am his!
And is with me each day I live!

Won’t you beckon his spirit’s call?
Living for Jesus makes it worth it all!

By Jim Pemberton


Details | Rhyme | |

Acid Dawn


Let us rest our heads upon the pillow of denial, turn twilight in the last clear reflection of the silent moon. Where vile droppings fell the freshness of the morning sea, turn to graveyards, lest we be; 
...swimming in an acid dawn.

The corpse of shellings, scales a strewn, where once transparent was so blue,
this morning features scarlet hue, as skin is shredded in the burning morn. 
Where vile droppings fell the freshness of the morning sea, turn to graveyards, 
lest we be;
...swimming in an acid dawn.

...And come mid sun up, we shall bathe; 
within sulfuric, petrol waves and drink our lemon juice until we choke. 
Till our teeth rot and our tears evoke, the pandora’s box which we awoke. 

An orange bright, our arid plight, and we the specks of dust behind;
lurching a dehydrated, evaporated existence. Famine on our minds.
Walking footsteps which no longer walk, dreaming of the past to escape the future as the present seeps our blood and marrow, the desert sun, a piercing arrow, stabbing at our hearts.

We hobble, oh we hobble and we hobble through the wasted years, through bones and makeshift graves, we’ll hobble into the final age;
where vile droppings fell the freshness of the morning sea, turn to graveyards,
lest we be;
...swimming in an acid dawn.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It is estimated that within the next decade or two that the ocean will become so acidic as to dissolve the shells of mollusks and shellfish.  This in addition to the already dwindling supply of precious fresh water which we must share with our animal friends.  A supply by the way that we contaminate regularly, a supply that simply cannot be renewed. 

Desalination was looked upon as the next great solution to water shortage despite it's expense. However considering how the oceans are becoming increasingly polluted due to oil spill after oil spill and Fukushima's constant radioactive leaks, in addition to the acidification of the ocean itself, it appears that we will have no viable water to look forward to in the future. 

This is life.  Forget profit, it doesn't exist.  Nature has no concept of wealth, only of survival. If we all die, everything that we've accomplished will be forgotten, nature has no use for it. Currency will return to being simply paper and stone, and nothing else.

We need to stop thinking about ourselves and think of our children and all the other species that live upon the earth.


Details | Terzanelle | |

Inspiration

Listen my poet, try to understand
Feel my breath as I whisper in your ear
I will try not to make a harsh demand

I will take you to places far and near
You can go places you have never been
Feel my breath as I whisper in your ear

Not listening would truly be a sin
Please do not ignore the message I bring
You can go places you have never been

Soar among the Eagles, let your soul sing
If you do it right, your words will survive
Please don't ignore, the message I bring

Through your writing you are truly alive
My gift your courage to do what you do
If you do it right, your words will survive

I am not a liar, I'll say what's true
Listen my poet, try to understand
My gift your courage to do what you do
I will try not to make a harsh demand


Details | Senryu | |

home sweet turmoil

troops are returning
to a country in turmoil
with its debt ceiling


Details | Rhyme | |

Through The Trials And Valleys

Through The Trials And Valleys…

I’ve been through trials and difficult situations.
Many times it happens with no explanations!

Whatever I’ve had or have taken with me.
I’ve been there when everyone has left me!

The uncertainties I’ve had and struggles I face.
Have brought me to my knees in a “quiet” place.

The journeys I’ve traveled and the storms ahead.
Have brought worry and stress in the words I said.

Whatever trials I’ve  faced...  To Jesus I cried!
A comfort and strength .   He did provide!

I know a truth that is important and most certain.	
Jesus can take away any hardship or burden!

If  there were no trials...  How could I trust him?
Because of what he’s done  How I love him!

If I had no hardships or trials, I’d probably “forget him.”
Giving him my whole life?  I don’t think I’d let him!

But he’s proven to me just how much he loves me!
He reached down from heaven and touched me!

He’s my comfort and joy and enduring friend!
He’ll be there with me…  Till the very end!

This Jesus I know.  I recommend him to you!
He is God!  Our provider! This is so true!

Won’t you give him a chance in your life today!
He can bring hope and take 
all of the dark clouds away!

By Jim Pemberton


Details | Rhyme | |

My Life Is A Window

My feet are stuck in the mire
It's hard to see through the fog
I want to go through the portal
But I'm held inside like a dog

I, so much, want to break free
And ride on a current of wind
Moving about through the trees
The mountains and valleys within

My blood that flows like a river
My mind that spins like a top
Combine to cause aggrevation
From desires that just won't stop

I know there's a world of adventure
It's out there waiting for me
So many places to travel
So many places to be

If I could just break the boundries
That keep me held here inside
I'd count every mile on the highway
I'd ride and I'd ride and I'd ride

I'd watch the sun as it rises
Then go till I see it set
I'd travel up North and venture down South
And stop when I have no regrets

But for now my life is a window
I use it to look at the sky
The clouds are my dreams of desire
Just silently passing me by


Rockman  :-)


Details | Sonnet | |

Granted and Given

It is all in the Stars if you look hard enough.
There is always the morning Star twinkling.
And then there is the evening Star blinking.
And then there are layered clouds in a fluff.
 
Then there is the Sun and Moon and stuff.
Sometimes it looks like the Moons winking.
Sometimes it looks like the Sun is thinking.
Makes me wonder if their day can be rough!
 
What a wondrous world I live in.
What balance I live by every day.
My life must be granted and given.
So no wonder I take time to pray.
 
It is granted and given each day just to be me.
Just look up once a day and this you can see.
 
 
© Copyright: Ann Rich   2006


Details | Haiku | |

Haiku Collection Number 1

Hot tropical night
tension, sweat drips, bodies move
it’s time to tango.

Trimmed in red, white, green
ornaments sparkle and shine
Christmas time is here.

Golden Buddha sits
wisdom comes from emptiness
Shakyamuni, be.

White flakes falling down
glitters like stars in the sky
go up, ski down, weeee!

Swish, swish, swish, left, right
swish, swish, swish, down from up high
hot cocoa awaits.

Sun sets, pale red sky
mountains darken, purple sight
love Colorado.

Eight tracks and cassettes
memoires of the eighties
tunes blares as we cruise!

Honking all the time
everyone waiting in line
wild geese eating.

Black bird walks funny
searching for a bite to eat
that finch got it first.

Strange and bizarre dance
colors moving back and forth
parking lot ballet.

We bid you welcome
to our home of happiness
come and share it’s wealth.

Friends arrive this night
smiles and laughter for all
would you like some tea?

Sadness, time to leave
wisdom and cheer must be spread
to those that have need.

Cloud covered moon glows
eerie light darkens, pitch black
the wolves howl no more


Details | Free verse | |

House Of Cards

I forget that I’m in trapped in a house of cards
until the wind comes blasting through
And I’m left again with nothing
Nothing but grief and this pile of all that I knew

I had to forget how much I cared for you
Something no one should ever have to do
Can you remember? Do you remember?
Those darkly happy days when you felt that way too?

Love so many bitter times unrequited
Two hearts broken----too broken to break anymore
You’ve become my dark horse in this race against time 
And I hope to God we’re not about to lose 

Futile 
Infantile
And all around absurd 
Is what this nightmare without you has been

We shouldn’t have to work so hard
To fall flat down on our faces
again and again

I wish you’d come out of your shell
and back to life in the warmth of my arms once again


Details | Prose Poetry | |

LOVE ON DEATH LINE

I have not eaten today,
But my heart is filled
Not hungry of affection.
I had a fill of you last night
A fill of you for a life time

All around us are walking corpses
Corpses of political disregard
Humans of no nations
Even when they are bona-fide citizens
Your blood and mine flows in them

The government abhors the poor
Feeds them with empty promises
Shoves them through the door
They pay the bills
For social amenities they can’t find
Pay taxes for their castles 
Government built in the air
But we know their ancestors
Filthy dogs eating from the king’s crumbs
No; Lets not unknot the knot
Soon a messiah might heed us

In heaven’s book of life,
I heard the poor names are there
In here’s book of life
It is deleted.
Thus, in your head,
Lays your kingdom and glory 
Get rich or die trying
Or; be their poor and keep sulking.

Well, like them I saw… 
I have not eaten
Flesh gone weak to skeleton
Nevertheless, 
The solitude of love within
Keeps me living; I am breathing
But I am moving,
Towards your direction
I see your beam

I feel new
When I see you
From my heart 
Seeps through the rays of the sun
Its fun; this love on death line
We survived the genocide
We survived the war
We survived love
We survived us
I love you too.

This poem is dedicated to the abused tribes of Rwanda and Nigeria during their respective civil wars resulting in near human annihilation. Though time has passed, we still feel your pains chilling our bones. The survivors.


Details | Free verse | |

Leaving Malta

Trying to find somewhere to hide
Deep within myself, but no longer can I.
At the airport waiting for departure,
More and more heartache, it is such torture.

Feeling like a rope being tugged either way 
Tighter and tighter becomes the pull and
Harder and harder I try to invoke fun.
But it simply is not there, only growing despair.

Barely able to see through tears of sadness
As if a permanent goodbye, my world crumbling around me,
Preparing for the worst, but without need.
For none of it is real, only within me.

Unable to feel happiness, weighed down with grief
Trying to lose myself, avoiding feelings of loss
Rejection and abandonment,
Repeated patterns so well known.
 
Like old friends
Finally being cast off as a snake sheds its skin.


Details | I do not know? | |

THESE STATES UNITED - PART II

How someone like you 
 
and me
 
could ever be
 
this forever free

Never say never

Ever
 
Oh say, can you see
 
this valiant righteous fight
 
of the tiny 13
 
against the giant gorgeous gallant might
 
of the Royal Crown
 

into that last gleaming
 
fluorescent
 
effortlessly seeming
 
twilight 
 
as American soldiers fell
 
and died
 
and their women 

and Lady Liberty

rang the bell
 
and cried
 
screaming
 
and the little ones 
 
so sound asleep
 
nestled in their bed
 
so peacefully dreaming
 
whilst their King 

while their King lay dead
 

Hear his deep voice echo over and over in your head
 
You remember what he said
 
You remember what he said
 
You remember what he said
 
You remember what he said

You remember what he said

You remember what he said
 
You remember what he said
 
You remember what he said
 
You remember what he said

You remember what he said

You remember what he said

You remember what he said
 
as you lay there
 
missing and yearning
 
teaching and learning
 
freezing and burning
 
and tossing and turning
 
battledrums slow and become tribal
 
Yes, you too, remembers what he said:
 
"It is impossible to rightly govern a nation without God and the Bible"


 
So trumpeters blew and told 

their story
 
the drumboys rolled
 
out Old Glory
 
My God behold
 
Watch Old Glory
 
so dignified
 
unfold
 
Stars and Stripes 
 
thus signified

an Independence newfound
 

on Sacred, Sacred, Splendid, Sacred, Holy ground
 
Kneeling at ground Zero
 
Never forget
 
My, your, Our forgotten Hero

Ole' Father George pause and take a good look around
 
Ole' Father George steal the stars 
 
just this once

just in between
 
the glare of royal red rockets
 
and hand them to
 
the mighty 13
 
and the red stripes so soaked with blood
 
from our beloved Mother
 
across the pond

Sons no more, oh no, Mother 
 
There isn't any other
 

It’s me now - your new younger brother

Just passing through

the bright white rays of sunlight
 
into the big bold box of navy blue
 
into starry starry nights
 
Ole' Father George, our hopes ignited
 
Your legs so weary
 
Our dreams excited
 
Thank you, Ole' Father George
 
Thank you, God
 
God Bless These States United




Details | Free verse | |

Babylon

Words hold the meaning that we assign them
Ever since the fall of the tower .....


Babylon
Ancient land of mysteries solved
and shared
Where collective mind 
cast away the shadow of doubt.

Creative thought 
held siege by the Jealous Gods of war
and retribution
Zeus
Appolo
Yeshua


A hundred times, babylon fell
to the Kassites, the Assyrians, 
She fell 
and was re-built by Nebuchadnezzar   
The hanging gardens, of Eden
her fruit of art and music
flowed through deserts
with the sweet wine of Bacchus
intoxicating all in her pleasure. 

In the aftermath of the great feast
they awoke to find
The Persian army stationed amidst them
having walked through the river
and under the walls.  
Order reform, separation. 
corruption deterioration
Dust to dust.
till
Alexander the Great
wooed her alive again.. 
Babylon
dancing through gardens, libraries, 
markets, travel and trade
musicians, poets and playwrights 
came again to sing praises of her beauty.
With his death 
she fell
pawed apart by the feuding decay of his bureaucrats.
Babylon, death and rebirth..

Now she lies beneath the sands, 
beneath the waters of the Euphrates 
A camel ride south of Bagdad
where the tanks and shells of many lands
shake the ancient tower down.

Hammurabi’s code still stands
shattered into a million languages.

Right is right
and Law is Law.


Details | Senryu | |

Carnival

carnival -- indoors
instead of outdoors -- has a 
stifling air to it

silk wearing psychic --
mouth with an overbite -- tells
the future glibly

basketball game -- hoops
too small for tossing -- gives a
large dust-covered prize


Details | Free verse | |

The Drive

One must ascend approximately
Ninety-eight hewn stone stairs
To reach the hell that is
Forgetting what it means
To live at the bottom of the hill
Or one may forgo this education
And travel swiftly up and down
By automobile
Naming this purgatory life
And eternal bliss a television
Viewed from a leather couch
Artfully turned away from the window


Details | Lyric | |

Someday

“Someday”
Why is “someday” such a sad word?
When one like “never” is so much worse?
Why....why “someday”?

“Someday!”
Why is “someday” such a sad, sad word?
Perhaps the saddest one I’ve ever heard...
Why “someday”?

Everybody
has somebody
Except me, it seems
but that's not why I want to leave

So out of it
feel “out of it”
Never was in
can't find the way 

"Life’s one big bluff
Keep a straight face
Don’t let ‘em see your cards."

Yeah, life’s one big God-forsaken bluff
and I’m about to jump off

Someday, I thought you’d find me
Someday, I thought you’d love me
But someday ....
...someday......
someday NEVER CAME

“Someday,” they say, “You’ll find somebody.”
“Someday, you will be happy.”
“Someday, life will mean something.”
But someday I'll be SICK of waiting

Someday, you’ll see why it can’t be
Someday we’ll ALL be sorry
One day
sweet day
I’ll find my way 
out of this body.

http://vimeo.com/26557410


Details | Free verse | |

Florida

 The Florida sky
is a soft cotton canvas
over tart groves
that, in the late afternoon
break wide with thunder
and rain

I am so glad for that rain
it is daily
it is aloe vera
It makes me new
sinking
and carrying my year
 out to the ocean
to become anonymous
to have no owner

The year ran deep
and broke my spirit
This tear fell often
As I learned and walked
with stony friends
and bruised feet
As I loved too hard
and trusted too much
As I let hands
lay hold of me
and pull my golden hair
As I blurred my days together
with wretching secrets
and shaking fingers....

I am finally glad
 glad for the rain
and the hush of the world
between lawnmowers
and sun showers
between crunchy crab grass
and squeaky beach sand
between family smiles
and the miles I walked
to be here, away
in Florida


Details | Blank verse | |

GREYHOUND SAN JOSE

small boy at a game kiosk
vending machines that smell stale
separate stairways climbing up
to hombres and mujeres
a ticket vendor chained to his desk
wearing shiny black shoes
below wasted legs
mandatory alcoholic in checked shirt
with faded vomit spots
the homeless sober bearded man
Safeway trolley overflowing
with trash from a lifetime 
of buses come and gone
helpline poster for the runaways
twelve to twenty one
if their revolution
is done
a police cruiser
wrapped around 
a profusion of cigarette butts 
shapely thighs in halogen white
outside
the neighborhood dance club

buses are late
people wait
the clock strikes one


Details | Rhyme | |

The Enchanting View

Jagged rocks that tip my balance,
Vein like roots that trip my feet,
Branching weeds that scratch my legs,
The chill of the wind that steals my heat,

The steepness of this endless mountain,
The wanting, longing to reach the top,
The feeling that I can’t go on,
I need to let my body drop.

I see the end, the wind grows stronger,
The mountain seems to flatten out,
I can succeed; I’m almost there now,
My heart is screaming a silent shout.

The feeling of success is sweet,
The sky above, so baby blue,
I finally made it; the pain is gone now,
My prize, my cure: the enchanting view.


Details | Cowboy | |

Ancient Echoes

As I stand here at the rim, father sun comes peeking
all around me I can hear the old ones speaking

Journey Deeper

The trail draws me down into the womb of Mother Earth
and from the canyon walls the sounds of childish mirth

Journey Deeper

standing, bone drenched, under a waterfall so tall it seems to wash the sky
I hear the ancient courting flute, as ancient lovers sigh

Journey Deeper

slowly I work my way to the rushing waters at her heart
I hear the anguished cries of the men who’ll never depart

Journey Deeper

I sit beside the river’s edge, & search the canyons of my mind
and lose myself in the ancient voices, echoes of mankind

Journey Deeper


© June 2003


Details | Blank verse | |

Soul mate Souldiers

Wrap me up in rainbows
Compact and stuff me in your duffel bag
Travel with me to parts unknown
Scale mountain peaks and valleys
When you’ve reached the summit
Insert your flag of wisdom
And proclaim the new found “wonder”
Show me beauties, unroll me downhill
Sail down in the redness of love
Without fear of carpet burns
Do that, then join my side
Place warmth of trusting hands
and bleeding hearts firmly into mine
Into minds
We’ll climb the stairway back up to heaven
Together as one…


Details | Haiku | |

'Moon-Rock... ' (Haiku # 12)

‘ Moon-Rock ’  Haiku # 12

Moon Rock, Craters, Crust
What Does This Terrain Adjust …
“ Earth Was Made For Us ! “


Details | Sonnet | |

The Just of Me

The just of me is a special magic seed you see.
It has long drawn out roots branching off fruit.
The more you eat the more you will follow suit.
The just of me is why my life was meant to be.

I can steal a moment and shiver on your knee.
I can laugh or I can cry and sustain the mute.
I am loaded I tell you my seed carries the loot.
I’ll sprinkle maybe a dash up to a shining key.

I am counted in and out at the very same time.
Early in the morning or late at night, time I am.
Genres unfold whistling through my wind chime,
So, it's just the just of me being slain by a lamb.

Greetings I say to you, and welcome to your every bit of who!
The just of me swears something deep inside us always knew.


Details | I do not know? | |

Homing in on Stuben Roo

Homing in on Stuben Roo..

Stuben Roo, the man who knew,
That spinned the tales of Abennew,
The place that dawned before the night,
The place that spawned the Abbenite,
Colors, sounds and happenstance,
Led Stuben Roo, this place by chance,
Will he belong forevermore?
Take out the key and lock the door?
Or break the chains that held him there,
By crimson stains, and heart laid bare. 


If your trying to figure this out dont bother,
it's a sensless tounge triage, in the flavor of Dr. suess


Details | Senryu | |

Sty Animation

if you feed it, then
it will continue to grow --
litter on the ground.


Details | Free verse | |

shannon's recourse

tick. . . tick. .  talk the time today
busy a great gather of 
basketed flowers
that might move us towards
great outlawed-metered parked cars 
ticketing themselves
and twist. . . twist your fire-hydrant wrist
while the streets look the other way
simple lack-luster 
awaits your perceptive 50’s point of view
but it’s all the daughters that decide
off which part of  concrete to part with
and wake up 
in which car to ride in


Details | Verse | |

TO BECOME BOLD AND STRONG

Fate took me away from an uncaring father;
seventeen years I spent in my natal land,
but more hardships and trails not foreseen...
I withstood to become bold ad strong.



Fate took me away as a tender rose
snatched away from a blooming bush,
from an uncaring father whose love
seemed a rod that demanded obedience only. 
Seventeen years following harsh rules that left their wounds;
I spent hours on a hill that drew me closer to Heaven...
in my natal land, springs are harmonious and breath-taking:
enhancing the vibrant colors of the seasons and skies,
but more hardships I encountered in the new land...
and trails not foreseen, took me beyond any belief:
bearing what others couldn't, even scorn was my daily dosage of pain.
I withstood all by turning into a fortress that a tempest couldn't ravage...
to become bold and strong, moving forward with only faith and fortitude.


Details | Free verse | |

Beach Walkers

Retreat into the shimmering sand,
with bare feet just drifting along.
Contemplating the waves, the wind
and the voices, follow them all.

Try not to think as you breath,
let go of that endless refrain.
Deconstructing the ways, the pain
and the choices, let go of them all.

Silhouettes like ghosts straight ahead,
and sea gulls that open their shells.
The salty sensations, the distant
reflections, crossing over the wall.

Beach walkers stalking the day,
reconnecting the roots to their core,
The eternal foundation, and love’s 
constellation, take care of us all.


Details | I do not know? | |

Drifts of Blossoms

Daring drifts of blossoms dance along the water's edge 
And count their blessings for Heaven's sake 
And drown out a lover's pledge 
And the other sounds that two lovers make 


Nature's ways harmonize, climb and chime 
The wind whispers and moves on its way 
Souls search and get lost in time 
And find forever and somewhere to stay 


Cherries burst and dreams explode 
Deep breaths and a sudden sigh 
Dangerous curves down a slippery wet road 
Twists and turns against a dead end sky 


Trees bend into a gripping gust 
A grey ghost rides and hides the light 
Rain falls into dripping lust 
As daydreams dip and dive into night


Details | Rhyme | |

Are Chruches More Worried About Money Than Holiness


Are Churches More Worried About Money Than Holiness?

I believe many churches are in a “spiritual darkness.”
As many “run away” from God’s call for holiness!

Scripture says; “Without holiness…  
No man shall see God above!”
Many churches are more focused on  “preaching on his love.”

God is a God of love, but requires holiness too!
What…  In the name of Christ…  Are you going to do?

You can put money in the offering that passes you by…
Or you can focus on Godly living and give Jesus a try!

You can go to church on Sunday and try to feel “good.”
 But God’s purpose for your life needs to be understood!

Heaven…  Not some building…  Needs to be your goal!
Allow the blood of Jesus to cleanse and make you whole!

Religion is really not the answer that you need to seek.
Get right with God!  And seek him each day of the week!

Forget all of the “religious gossip and chatter!”
Living for and obeying Christ is all that matters!

He is and should be your main source and supply!
Come and drink of his eternal water that never shall run dry!

Give him your love, heart and all of your attention!
May his word be the focus of your life’s direction!

Allow his spirit to create a hunger for holy living within…
He can give you the power and victory over sin!

Time for “playing games” with God needs to be in the past.
So you can enjoy a freedom in Christ that will always last!

By Jim Pemberton    05/21/12


Details | I do not know? | |

Decided

Years of indecision 
Ended in an instant 
My life in third revision 
Starting in the present 

Touching everything I've owned 
Importing their very essence 
Of each and every feeling they borne 
History rearing it's very presents 

Boxed and placed on an empty truck 
My very existence held in transit 
That is when the melancholy struck 
Walking out this door would be a heroic bit 

On the other side of town a lady waited 
Patiently for me and for me to decide 
That my wild single passions were sated 
And to face and enjoy life by her side 

I fired up that truck, my heart, soul and mind 
Pointed them carefully to the other side of town 
Arriving at a place, I knew, true love I would find 
Truly amazed at the acceptance I had found. 

rlm '09


Details | Free verse | |

At World's End

At the end of the world I find a place full of everyone's problems to hide my mistakes in total solitude my thoughts become clear my mind is a cave filled with wonder of fear in this dark recession of oppressed memories I escape all the pain by forever running right off the radar the facade crashes down and I see me, the way I really am Worthless, useless, pointless and pathetic the load lessens greatly as I learn to accept it the feeling is beautiful I never want to escape I own my ugliness making yours seem so fake its fate, ever so present taking all into stride has never been as pleasant At the end of the world, voices chatter, unheard choice is just a word to a prisoner of destiny the reason is everything and everywhere but everyone is too busy to notice, or care too busy to love, with much time to hate running faster in circles until the harmony breaks then shoot out straight surprised to be falling down into darkness the last friend still calling.


Details | Narrative | |

DANGER IN PUBLIC PLACES

Have you had or seen teenagers,
who abused drugs like marijuana
and became truant and unruly?
That same teens could be 
exposed to temptation again,
if they worked in a hospital,
where the supply of medical
marijuana is kept in glass cabinets.
And we think that modern vampires
are fiction as Drucula's legend seems;
there are indeed doctors and nurses
who will steal blood to satisfy their urge,
and if I have revealed this...
do you think that I am crazy?
If the FDA approved it,
what would the consquences be?
It will certainly diminish the acute pain in patients,
or make everyone around them get high?
Our streets are swarmed with pot heads,
who are hit daily by cars, because of unclear thinking;
and those who drive cause many fatal accidents...
others die of an overdose in filthy corners,
their lifeless bodies are spotted in small towns and big cities.
Is it a good idea to make it legal,
or will it endanger everyone in public places?




Details | Blank verse | |

The Smell of Exile

we grew up at Home
with a warrior thrust tuning 
our souls to sounds of crickets
to rhythms of the soil
to smells of the rivers
knowing large dreams of moonlight joy
 
we grew up there in an ever rebounding 
spirit learning songs of seasons
that dressed our umbilical cords
for the harvest of our dreams—
they were songs fathers sang in the cycle
many rainless seasons ago
 
many harvest seasons ago we danced away
from loving arms of Home onto the snow sea
opening widely our limbs to invisible lines
that etched new profiteering truths 
into our being into our minds into our hearts
 
when we heard father died this morning
away from Home we were featherless eagles 
looking for remnants of our nest among anthills
at a traffic light fragmented by hideous sores
we lost the burial songs made golden by the Sun
and made the Dead sleep like babes at Home
 
it was here we remembered
the splash of Colors, the smell of Exile
the poverty of dispossession which soaked our souls
froze memories of green Hills of Home
and made us grow resentful to dreams of moonlight joy
 
we looked into the skies and remembered 
when Locusts burst dams and the deep cuts 
of Holy Water drowned the glutton voices of our fathers
our blood drank the pus from our wounds 
buried deep by the locusts beneath the skin
 
we lost our dreams of a harvest
to the splash of colors
we drowned the songs of our fathers
in the roar of the holy water
 
today there are many seas to cross
with deadly triangular calm 
they’ll congeal stubborn death breaths 
while father’s spirit scream at our tenacious fate
 
it is only a season ago since we left, yet
we no longer possess the sounds of the crickets
we no longer dance to the rhythms of the soil
what we have is the pus from the wounds
buried deep by the locusts beneath our skin


Details | Imagism | |

Places Where I've Lived

In my time upon this earth
the places where I've lived
have created memories to numerous to count
some memories, good and warm
other memories, bad and cold
best forgotten for all the pain
they have caused me.
The many homes through which I have passed
from childhood into adulthood
though mose are gone by now
still stand within my mind.
Grandpa working in his garden
growing many wonderous things,
his chasing me at play
and catching me everytime,
my first sandbox
and the many cats who by design it seems
had their own ideas for that same sandbox.
Numerous moves, more memories
home all different in design and size
all the places where I have lived mean many things
remembrances to travel along beside be for a lifetime
while others fade away only to be lost forever.


Details | Free verse | |

high on my shelf

Your picture sits high on a shelf 
out of daily sight 
out of daily thoughts
every now and then 
I pass it and look up 
I stop to think,
of times long ago
back when things were alright 
and you were my world.
It seems as though daily life 
has gotten in the way 
everything just becomes a blur.
Maybe I try to hard to make something out of nothing 
maybe that’s why you are high on this shelf 
or maybe just maybe I put it up so high 
to  know I can never reach it 
pull it down,
and try and clean it 
clean up the past and right the future 
 for maybe just maybe 
I like you high on this shelf 


Details | Free verse | |

On The Dawn of A New Year

The passage of time records
The things we have achieved, the milestones we have crossed.

The time to come heralds
The things we can yet achieve, the milestones we have yet to cross.

The past is a collage
Of moments in a lifetime, of people and places that have been

The future is a canvas
On which we get to create moments, people and places that can be.

The year gone by
Is a storehouse of memories, a cellar full of nostalgia.

The year to come
Is a receptacle for effort, a playground of anticipation

So, while - on a day like this - you might look back at what has been
Take time, also, to look ahead at what has yet to be

...Of the person you CAN become
...Of the things you CAN do
...Of the places you CAN visit
Of a life that you CAN create


Details | Rhyme | |

The Old House and the New Home

The Old House and the New Home
©2011 C. Brent Cloyd

I’ve lived in houses in the country side
There with my family I did abide
By the dust and gravel of a country road
Much pride was taken in our humble abode

I’ve lived in houses perched on a hill
Many of which are not standing still
They provided shelter in their time
Provoked memories that make life rhyme 

I’ve lived in a house on a city street
Where the neighbors came out at night to meet
I’ve lived in houses made of wood and stone
On avenues where children could safely roam

I’ve lived in houses of mortar and brick
Where driveways were paved and the grass was thick
I’ve enjoyed houses far better than most
Where friends would come and I could serve as host

But my current house seems like a foreign land
Where everyone wants to lend me a hand
Living in this place is not my desire
Of this arrangement I easily tire

The time has come for me to leave
To this old house I will not cleave
I no longer want a cottage here below
To a fine home in heaven soon I will go.

I long not for a mansion or streets of gold
But just a place where I will never grow old
A place where pain and sadness are never more
Where happiness is found on every shore

I am eager, yes ready, to move out
To possess my new home with a shout!
The promised home Jesus went to prepare
Death please come quickly, I want to be there.


Details | Free verse | |

PLAN A frica

PLAN A (frica)   
                                                                     
Such splendor 
      Gazelles by the thousands, flawless
       Springing into green and golden dawn
Staggers the thought
Sucks the air
        Roars lion thunder, roars again---- sated, delighting
        Cubs cuffed for bothersome nips
Grabs the gut
         Night drops under a falling dome of star sky
         suddenly --no warning to bid adieu the sun

Such magnificence declares:
 Big Bang was just plan A
       more to come


Details | Dodoitsu | |

BECAUSE UNLIKE MOST OF YOU MY I Q IS HIGHER THAN ROOM TEMPERATURE

           LISTEN UP MY PHRIEND

A phoolish junkie believes he has a lot of phriends
Until one of his alleged phriend’s dope supply ends
So he goes to the junkie who has a substantial stash
But unfortunately that day the needy one has no cash

Ain’t no junkie who’s going to give dope away for free
They tell the needy one not to bargain, beg or plea
You got cash to get dope and your sickness ends
And as I said, there are junkies who think they have true and lasting phriends

The one who’s pleading gets the sweats, shivers and shakes
But cash for dope is the only trade a junkie ever makes
Cough up the bucks and you’re sweat will turn dry
Because the life of a junkie is a matter of sell or buy

I know first hand that ain’t a junkie who really gives a sh*t
All he thinks about is his need for another hit
And that’s when an addict won’t care, loan or lend
Because there ain’t a junkie alive who has a true and lasting phriend
             © 2011.…Phreepoetree  ~free cee!~
WHAT MAKES MOST OF YOU PEOPLE NOT EVEN REMOTELY SMART IS THAT YOU DON'T RECOGNIZE PURE POETIC GENIUS such as mine WHEN YOU READ IT!
  


Details | I do not know? | |

BELSAN

This was written for the Belsan Tragedy....

Mother Earth has completed
the cycle of the sun
Searing agony; blackened dreams
Freewill has been undone

Vivid memories tainted by blood
Megalomaniacs on the prowl,
charging through doorways
Altering course of lives

Masters of predation
Masters of the gun
Masters of deprivation
No need to pull a con

Guns, robes, identity (un) known
Hunted by all
Entrapped by none

Three day of terror
Families' oppignerate
If the sun should rise again
We'll never congregate

Just like Icarius
Who flew from Crete on wings
The sun indeed did rise
Alas! The sea beckoned as well

What was the purpose I wonder, 
or am I an ignorant fool?
Multiple lives lost to plunder 
Still I say, what was the use?


Details | Cowboy | |

Burlap & Barb Wire

That's why you have boot straps, she's heard the old vaqueros say
But she'd throw away all her tomorrows for one single yesterday 
She wishes deep down for a better day somewhere down the road
But for now the grief, loneliness & tears make a heavy load
She's much too young to carry the burden she's been thrown
But there is no other choice, she will push through on her own
She'll ride to hell & back again trying to outrun the pain
But no matter how far she rides, he'll not come home again
Her very own Cowboy Charming, a fairytale come true
Until a cruel twist of fate painted her world faded denim blue
How long will she replay that single moment in time?
A day & forever, she'll still find no reason or rhyme
She has tasted love's passion & felt its cruel sting
Felt both the elation & misery that only true love can bring
She once carried her heart like a balloon, bright & airy
Now she locks it away deep inside & is wary
She's sworn never again to give in to desire
Now, its covered with burlap 
& wrapped in barb wire 

(c) October 2003


Details | Free verse | |

Picture Perfect

Take a picture. 
Halfway between, two extremes, film exposed to light; 
Corrupt or cleansed, shaking hands, or about to fight. 

Make a picture. 
Roll film right back, start again, I am what you see.
More film to load, left alone, so many stills to be. 


Details | Haiku | |

Nature

Tranquil and serene
Nature is God's handy work
A poets' kingdom.


Details | Limerick | |

Holy Crap

Na- Nu Na-Nu
greetings earthlings How do you do
I'm captain Zendor from planet Sur Render 
shazbot someone crashed into my spaceship's fender
hit me so hard made me go krap-poo


Details | Free verse | |

Little Refuge

Little girl goes down to the water.
Little girl climbs up the hill.
Little girl wanders in the woods.
Little girl collects little things.

Creatures and curiosities.

Puts them in her pockets.

Skipping and running and playing at hunting.

Now and then she stops, and rests.

Her every heartbeat,
her every breath,
conspires with the fragrant moist air,
the rocks and the trees,
to forget her home.

There she waits before the sunset.

She waits as long as she can.

Oh, how precious is this place.

Her refuge.

To the sea and the hills. . .
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.


Details | Rhyme | |

Treasures

Treasures

In my mind there is a box that no one ever sees
It contains my treasures, it holds my memories
Often I will look inside and I will taste again
Something that I once had done, or someplace I have been

I walk the paths of yesterday, to places past it wends
Its way to unforgotten times, to unforgotten friends
I drink the wine of ages, and celebrate the years
And toast again my visions of laughter and of tears

The oldest ones are brittle.  The ink has faded some
But this does not diminish the treasures they’ve become
I’ve placed a lock upon this box, as it will always be
The place that I have stored my life, irreplaceable to me


Placed 3rd in Brian Strands A FREE CHOICE contest


Details | Free verse | |

Unusual sources of inspiration

Well I wonder!
What, which inspires?
The bathroom door that collides with the wind
And exposes its guest?
Or the gaping window that
Gives peeping space for my neighbor’s eyes?
Is it the thick dried browned soap foams
On marbled wall, painted white by
Colors of many years?
Is it the tiled surface floor
Whose yellowness is turning brown?
Or the morning cold Well water?
Is it its impact on the body
Lukewarm from the heat of the night
And residues of mosquitoes in the bloodstream?
Or a token blessing of seasonless patronage
Of the shrine of showerers?
Well, I wonder!
What which inspires?
When every morning in the bath
 Songs dances, ideas run wild
And thoughts splash and flash
And poem like this
Find a space at the contours of my mind.


Details | I do not know? | |

Prey and Predator

Time reflects that which we have saught
We've wandered over for many a year
Never quite knowing what our search was for
The memories of an age gone past, guide my steps
As I too, wander
Staggering on into the abyss that is the on coming life
I know not where this jagged path will lead
I flee form the shaddows of the night walkers 
I flee into the hands of daybreak
Where I can see the juts in the road
The rocks that cut my feet
I can see the pain
And so I can avoid it
When the drapes close upon the sky I lose my way
Fall 
My eyes are blind, 
My ears can hear
The unfamiliar voices that rape my ears 
The sounds that claw at the walls of my mind
They whisper to me
I scream at them
I tear at them in the dark
They taunt me
I run on
Upon this jagged path
Butterflies' blood is strewn across my step
The blood of the lamb as well
At night when the sounds are in there
In my head
I become the wolf
The lamb as my prey
But hush now
Don't speak
The drapes again pull away
Dawn approaches
And I am again a butterfly
I am again the lamb
Time as kept me wandering, on and on
Forever more
Running form the wolves inside my mind 


Details | Rhyme | |

Empty

There's an old wooden chair by the window
and grains of dust collect upon its seat.
Ghosts of memories gather around the frame,
as it forgets the tender warmth of body heat.

Silence softens the once crowded air,
pushing emptiness into the sun's filtered light.
Echoes of footsteps escape into yesterday,
while human prints dim from time's sight.

The battered floor lies stiff and silent,
left alone by the dying stomp of human feet.
Hollow halls haunt the dead home,
like a graveyard's tomb filled street.

Human voices linger in the empty rooms,
but the physical beings chose to move on.
As specks of dust butter the quiet spaces,
life's reflection refuses to be gone.


Details | Free verse | |

Blue Jean Moon

 there's a blue jean moon 
  out there tonight 
   you know, the one that's got 
    that look in its eye 
     like it's got 
      a million places to go 
       and it doesn't know 
         where to start 
          or who to call first 


Details | Free verse | |

jump rope

there’s a curve 
at the end of every sidewalk 
did you know every block’s 
measured by the lazy way a rope
skips and ponytails itself down its own street?
my, how my rope bends
alongside that straight line
six inches above what you call a ‘curb’ under my knees
falling and rising under my feet


Details | Free verse | |

Glistening Light

Glistening mantras of light 
                            ......shining
         Falling 
                        ........on blankets of fresh snow
Becoming a frozen tundra of  
                                 .......miraculous gems

Nature's plethora of snowflakes sparkle
                                          .....Refracting light 
                     ........forming a shield

How generous is our maker 
                          .......meticulously thorough
Nebulous heaven appears 
                  .......knowingly unseen

Releasing light from shining sun 
                                 ......and moon 

Earth forever full of lights and truth glistening


Details | Quatrain | |

Modern House

Our house craves bold colors and crisp, clean lines 
No heaviness of wood, antique white or brocade
Just chrome, seamless showers and open space 
Inviting air and light so we may shunt the grave


Details | Free verse | |

Home

     This is the place where I grew up.
This is where I took that first unsure step.
Right here is where I snuck  my first Love 
up to my room.
This wood and glass and cracking mortar 
makes not this a home
There were dreams and hopes here 
that hold these four walls together better than any bond.
Within these walls I have loved and laughed and cried.
Is this what  makes a home?
All of my hopes and dreams were born within these walls.
I have learned the lessons that made me a man
growing up in this abode.
Does the warmth and love and family 
make a place to dwell?
Then the answer clear came to me 
as i look at this house in disrepair.
I realize it's all the memories that make
this place of life a home.


Details | Rhyme | |

Setting up House

I met a woman, fell in love
She was a gift from above
Soon she became my spouse
We gathered things and set up house.

Some things were new without a flaw
Some were hand me downs from Ma and Paw
For some we saved nickels in a can
Some were bought on the installment plan.

Children came – a total of four
Two boys – two girls- no need for more
We managed to provide room and board
Did the best we could afford.

We moved around from house to house
On an adventure – me and my spouse
Gathering things to which we would cling
But we rarely got rid of anything.

Tables, chairs, couches, and beds
Cabinets and shelves taller than our heads
Mugs, pictures, and bells we did collect
Mementoes and heirlooms on which to reflect.

A man gathers a lot in over fifty years
And remembers many of them with tears
Many a thing still fills my house
But it’s not a home without my spouse.

She has a room in a retirement home
Care is provided and she cannot roam
I dreamed one day we would be old timers
But I never figured on Alzheimer’s.

Now I have a house full of stuff
Too many things - more than enough
The time has come to downsize
To an apartment in the high rise.

My children came one by one
Went through my stuff until they were done
One takes this and another takes that
And managed to do so without a spat.

Giving things away is a lonely task
My irritability I cannot mask
Gathering things with my spouse
Was more fun than cleaning out house.



Details | Rhyme | |

H Farmall

You know a tractor is not a toy
Not a play thing for a little boy
But when cradled in its seat
Life became for me a treat

Behind its wheel I learned to drive
Found happiness in being alive
Released her clutch without a lurch
My world had fullness from that perch

But these are the tales of a day gone by
I remember them sometimes with a sigh
The days grow duller with the passage of time
But these are the memories that make life rhyme

I’ve gained knowledge from scholars face to face
Benefited from their degrees and grace
I gained wisdom on an H Farmall
From an old man in bib overalls.

I have traveled this country far and wide
I have crossed the ocean to the other side
But some of the finest things I ever saw
Were on the farm, with the H, and my Papaw.


Details | Free verse | |

Flowers on the Volunteers' Desk

Flowers are blooming on the volunteers’ desk:
Roses, carnations, a spring bouquet,
Dish gardens and gold mums (a more masculine look,
The florist said).
Blooming like a garden
Of well-wishes and sentiment,
Blooming here in the hospital lobby
(Well, after all, it is spring).
Each vase or container bears a card.
What is its destination?
The new mother in Maternity?
“Oh, how pretty,” as she nurses her baby.
Or the woman down the hall?
Whose baby died after a brief flicker of life.
That’s all she’ll take home (this time): flowers.
Maybe to the tough kid on the third floor?
It was just an appendicitis, “no big deal.”
Next week, (or the next), he’ll be back 
With his friends on Saturday night.
“Hey, look at his scar,” “Cool!”
Maybe that one goes to the old man,
You know, the one who’s dying of…something,
They don’t know exactly….old age?
He’d rather be at home in his garden.
A hospital full of people,
But only enough flowers
To cover the top of the volunteers’ desk.
How many patients, (impatient, really)
Will get nothing today?
Here come the couriers with just a few more.
“Let’s go…..hospitals are depressing.”
Even with (especially with) so many pretty flowers
Waiting on the volunteers’ desk.


Details | Verse | |

A Lost Soul

Inside the idle crevices of an empty soul

Lays a part of me that I shall not befriend.

Now it is filled, and then drained again

By faces and places I do not comprehend.

 

Scratched upon by an old splintered pen

The scars on this soul shall never ever mend.

Now it is clean, and then stained again

By faces and places I do not comprehend.

 

Just a look in the mirror and all is clear,

I am not whom I often seem to pretend.

Now I am me, and then another again

A face in a place I do not comprehend.


Details | Free verse | |

A Cup of Tea

stepping out into the open air 
i feel a course of light running through my veins 
the sky, the sun, the grass 
some things never change 
and i pray they never will 

underneath this tree i built 
i gather from the shade 
a sense of belonging for what it's worth 
i could never taste the touch of your lips 
or the incessant nudge of a friend's reality 
but i can just as well sit here 
and become the earth again 

it's just me now 
and that's okay 

i take a trip up the countryside 
my jacket across my shoulder 
waving to any passers-by 
it's not as lonely when everyone knows you 
i find a diner off the side of the road 
and stop in for a drink 
i sit alone in the farthest corner 
and ask the waitress for a pen 
she obliges but she wants it back 
then asks me what i'd like 

just a cup of tea 

i pull a napkin closer in 
and write what i see/feel now 
the sun reflecting off the window 
and the glare in my glasses blinding me 
it's beautiful out there 
and it makes me wonder 
how much more beautiful it might be with you 

but it's just me now 
and a cup of tea 


Details | Free verse | |

Two Oldsters

I clip on a leash so I can try to hold her back.
My old friend will prance all the way down the block and back.
She’s frightened of noise from the garbage truck.
And early morning before the heat is always a must.
We walk the sidewalks to keep her nails trimmed nice.
And we know everywhere to find a friend like us.
Lord knows, I try to stop and talk, so I can catch my breath.
We will cross the street to avoid mean and barking dogs.
We know all the obstacles that might get in our way.
And we go a different route for each weekly day.
Together we know we appear to be a walking machine, but
We smell the roses and notice flowers from all the houses we pass.
But it’s nice to see the yards as they go slowly past
We have plenty of work waiting for us at home when we get back.
But for a moment each day we chose it, to ignore.
My old lab and I need to get out while the weather is good
In the end we’re just two oldsters…trying to get out of the house.
A smile comes on our faces we go down the block.


Details | Sonnet | |

Sonnet?

Every second passes by me unseen But I can feel the weight of one minute After each hour my mind becomes keen: That these days are adding up bit by bit. Each week my personality alters A year goes by and my mind starts to twist Decades pass and it seems as time falters, My mentality gets lost in time’s mist. Yet when I am with you the clock stands still If only I could exploit these feelings I could stop the sands of time at my will But I’m not capable of these dealings Time now steals what I already forgot My mind starts to fade but our love will not


Details | Light Poetry | |

' The Poets' Day, At The Beach ... '

The  Men, Rolled In … Like Ocean Waves
The Women, Splashed and Sprayed and Splayed
And Laughed and Cried In Salty, Foam-Crests
In Liquid-Blue, Up To Our Breasts …
On Bright, Shine Afternoons …
Or In Fog, Floating In From Coasts, Subdued

And The Men Rolled In … Like Ocean Waves
Playing and Surging, Roaring Out Praise
Buoyed High, Bobbing Up and Down
So Quick, So Strong, The Men Swam …
And Women, Wet in Swimsuits
Carried Away Corals and Seashells, As Loot

Putting Them To Our Ears, Everyday
To Hear What Echoes of Sea, Had To Say
And On Soft, Crystal Sand, Pearls, We Did Lay
As The Men, Rolled In … Like Ocean Waves …


Details | Idyll (Idyl) | |

A draught

The late afternoon sun falls slowly in the sky
its radiant heat so strong as to slow time
for all sad creatures sitting squinting
gazing in the distance, prying open the mind’s eye

Hearts beat at a cloud’s pace,
and sweat streams down faces slow and winding as the river Nile
A sigh. The tearing of a page. But little inspiration.

Searching desperately for diversion
I turn my gaze to the wavy distance
where scores of empty vessels are parked
lonely in a tarmac field
no inspiration there.

Two dozen unique individuals stare straight ahead
and file past silently in lines going two by two
blank expressions plastered on faces like wallpaper
no inspiration there.

Two cars, one black and one white,
pass without greetings in the baking street
and drive away out of sight, forgotten to each other forever
no inspiration.

Such is the numbing silent pain of a draught.
The world needs the rain.


Details | Free verse | |

Callous eyes

Callous 

Every tiny things matter in a young world, 
and then with callous eyes, he is used to pick
days and nights as they pass him, as they pass beyond.

Sometimes he panics, fears that she’ll go away 
and he won’t feel any ache, just be watching her
moving away, erasing; looking at the place
where she has been seen last; with covert anger.

A tiny butterfly flies, in and out, in and… 
the patch of rain raises smells, smells of musty dusk.
The callous eyes follow the hands clutching heart 
where past is blending in pains and agonies.  
=© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar


Details | Free verse | |

Corsica

I am part of the land
the granite and limestone
that contain relics
of man's beginnings.
I stand on the mountain looking
over the water, pure in its shades
of blue as it reaches into the 
caverns along the coast.
The land rises to unknown heights
daring man to conquer it, to live on it.
The remnants of fortresses align the coast
standing guard against unknown forces.
From the Greeks and Romans I draw my blood
continuing the ways, the languages, as I observe
the Europeans with their yachts using
my land as a playground.


Details | Free verse | |

Everybody Falls

On those lonely days,
When the sky is pouring rain,
You look out through haze,
And see memories that bring you pain

The only woman you hold dear,
Walked away and out the door,
You can’t help but shed a tear,
As you watch it all once more,

Oh, everybody falls sometimes,
From the high places in our lives,
We land down among our crimes,
The lies cutting just like knives,
We try to read between the lines,
Yet we all seem to shrink from our dives,
Yea, everybody falls sometimes,
From the high places in our lives,

The wind that chills you to the bone,
Will push you onward when you roam,
And when you’re weary and alone,
The fire still burns back at home,

When life gets you down so low,
Where you can’t even find your way,
Well I’ve been there and I know,
That tomorrow’s a whole new day

Oh, everybody falls sometimes,
From the high places in our lives,
We land down among our crimes,
The lies cutting just like knives,
We try to read between the lines,
Yet we all seem to shrink from our dives,
Yea, everybody falls sometimes,
But we all get on with our lives,

Oh, everybody falls sometimes,
But we get on with our lives,
Yeah we get on with our lives


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Shifting Sands

Shifting sands, ever changing
with the always steady beating
of the planets heartbeat.
Patterns dynamic in their structure
always different, never the same again
carried on the wings of the wind
and its passing whim.
Hills and valleys dot the landscape
flat lands going nowhere lead ever onward.
Tiny grains of sand alone
are naught but infinitesimal specks
but together they can be mighty indeed.
Life abounds in this ever changing universe
with times passing it continues to fight
in order to survive its sandy domain.
To exist at it is/was destined too
is the only truth it knows.
Grains of sand mark the passing of time
minutes, hours, moving ever onward
with the shifting of sand, never to be retrieved.
Where it begins no one seems to know
its ending a mystery as well
is the end the beginning, or is the beginning the end?


Details | Rhyme | |

There Shall Come A Great Tribulation

There Shall Come A Great Tribulation!

You’ll find In the Bible... 
In the book of Revelation.
One day... There shall come
 a great tribulation.

There shall be famine and war 
this world has never seen.
"Satan's fury" being poured 
out upon everything.

The Antichrist will appear 
as "the world leader."
"The man with all of the answers."  
"A great world healer."

People won't be able to buy or sell
 without a mark on their hand.
While corruption and wickedness 
prevails throughout the land.

Our only hope and answer during 
much chaos and anxiety.
Is Jesus.  In HIM we can 
have life abundantly!

This world shall one day 
perish and pass away.
 God's truth and his word are here to stay!

Come to Jesus now... 
He invites you to come.
Accept the gift of eternal life 
from God's precious son!

He's our only hope in this
 world which we live.
He is so patient and kind... 
willing to forgive.

Will your name be in God's 
book of life someday?
Are you ready to meet him on judgment day.

This world... or Jesus... the choice
 by you must be made.
The price for your soul... 
on Calvary... has been paid!

By Jim Pemberton


Details | ABC | |

Lover Her or Leave Her!

America
Princess of providence
Daughter of Divine
Wrought in fury
Wrest from rift
Framed for freedom

Paradise of prospectors:
pioneers and patriots, 
profiteers and pimps

O spring of freedom,
may you never run dry
O river of prosperity,
may your tide never ebb 

You, who seek her,
see her as you ought;
a mirror of virtue and truth, 
no whore to waltz

Enter her gates, 
you, who yearn for freedom,
her bosom awaits your embrace

Drink from her fountain,
wayfarers are welcome,
sojourners are safe

For the freedom she offers,
fidelity she requires
So love her or leave her


Details | Epic | |

My Door

I have been stuck in this room for what seems like an eternity. I could of sworn the door I took to get here was right there but it's gone now. It was just like any other door I have taken in my life. But the door has vanished leaving me in this room which also has never happened before. This room is completely devoid of all color and sound even time seems to have no affect here. There is however a door in front of me. This door was like all the others except for two lines of bold writing that read "Christopher Michael Waters" and under that "June 22 1986" For some reason the door made me nervous but no matter how long or hard I looked I could not find another way out and I could not just sit here forever. So I walked up to the door and when I got within reach my stomach turned but I tried to ignore it and reached out to open to open it. When I had the knob in my hand the hairs on the back of my neck stood up and gave me goosebumps up and down my arm something was not right about this door and every instinct I had told me to run. But I had no other choice this was the only way out I had already tried everything else I could think of. Slowly I started to open the door and inside my head I heard screamed "No Run Run From this place. Do not open that door!" I instantly lost my nerve but it was to late the door swung open. Within there was neither light or darkness just nothingness. I just had a second to see this and no time to ponder what it meant because once the door was open I was gone and nothingness was left behind.


Details | Free verse | |

Israel so he calls it

You call it Israel carelessly 
You call it that thoughtlessly 
Unquestioning is it okay? 
Unnoticing the decay 
The strong hold of all the Palestinians 
The firm desires it will be free again 
Did you see or have you went blind
To all the things they did
To all the slaughter 
They have caused
To the destruct of all homes
To the raze of all mosques
To the perish of many souls
Strong great Palestinians 
They did not do but stand 
Defending their beloved country
They did not do but fight back 
For what the Jews did 
And you call it 
You call it again 
Israel…
For if they killed, burned, and tortured
It will never be theirs to own 
It will never be theirs to name
It will never, never be theirs to cling too
It has been, is being, and will be
Only Palestine…






Written by: louzana nubani
Dedicated and directed to: Paulo Coelho 
 


Details | Narrative | |

work

tension in the muscles
where the strain takes place
places where the sweat
where the sweat accumulates 
deep breathing
heavy lifting
escaping only in ones mind
making my way carefully
far from this space


Details | Free verse | |

Buried Alive!

Buried Alive!

Where am I?
I can’t move!

What is this that 
I’ve been put in?
I was asleep and 
now I wake up in this?

How did I get here?
What type of
Twisted joke is this?

Who in the hell
Would do this to me?
What the crap!

The top is so 
close to my face,
Between me and the
Top there’s 
hardly any space!

What the hell!
I can’t even turn around.
I try to scream,
And my voice echoes.

Oh my God!
I must be underground.
I’m getting hot and sweaty.
It’s getting harder 
and harder to breath!

What am I going to do?
What the bloody 
hell am I going to do?

I have claustrophobia
And I’m locked in this
Freaking box!

I’m trapped in this tight space
And I can’t even move,
There’s nothing I can do!
I have no control over
My body and my breathing!
God help me!
I need you, please 
get me out of here!

This is the worst place
I could ever be in!
I’d rather be raped or
Stabbed or anything
Besides this!

Get me out of here,
This is my worst haunting fear!
Who would do this to me?

…and now I have to pee,
I can’t even move my arms
To unbutton my jeans!
Oh well, now
I’m pissing all over 
Myself.
Great, I might die 
With diaper rash.

The air is getting thinner
And thinner, I’ve got to
Calm down.

I’m going to die
Buried alive
Underground,
Without being
Found.

I’m going to die
Without making
The slightest sound!

I’m withering
Away, soon
I won’t be
Around,
I’m fading away.

Who knew
I would
Die today?

Turning blue
Without anything
To do about it!

Get me out of here God
Get me out!



I wrote this poem about my worst fear.  I wrote it for a contest.  I do have this phobia.  
When I was a little girl one of my older cousins locked me in a hope chest and left me there 
for hours.  Finally an adult heard me and let me out.  Since then I've had this phobia.  I wish 
I could some how get rid of this fear.


Details | I do not know? | |

The Hidden Me

Walking through life all alone, 
I live my life in monotone.
Watching the days go by, 
I sit and wonder, why?
What purpose do I serve? 
What is it to just exist? 
Wandering blind in a veil of mist.
If the sun were to shine on me, 
Could I open my mind and see?
Would I use my heart and soul? 
Would I find what hatred once stole?
Young in life, my innocence lost, taken, 
My mind frozen with fear, trust violently shaken.
Unable to shed a tear, my paranoia blatantly real.
Emotions unexpressed congeal. 
My eyes leave nothing unguarded,
The real me checked and carded. 
Awaiting a person who possesses the key, 
To open the door and kill the pain inside me.
                                                 Summer Gratias


Details | Enclosed Rhyme | |

Wrong Places

Lose your mind
Doing time in all the wrong places

Got some friends
Lots of friends
In all the wrong places

Choose which one
They're all fun
Pretty faces

Dressed their best
Wearing less
In all the wrong places

On display
Come what may
Lined up like vases

Take your chance
Cash advance
In all the wrong places

Lose your heart
Here's where to start
In all the wrong places


Details | Free verse | |

So-Called Good Christians

You have made a choice. 
You have chosen hatred. 
In our Heavenly Father, 
you have chosen not to rejoice. 
He is who spares the most awful dread. 
  
You have chosen to hate me. 
First it was the “N” word, 
the Afro comment, 
and my curly hair. 
Now you hate me 
for the religion 
that I have chosen to be. 
My faith gives me what is right and fair. 
  
I pity you for all your hate. 
But you made it clear my fate. 
A Mormon to this date, 
a Mormon forever. 
Your rage and hate 
prove my faith and 
choice of religion right. 
Your bigoted hatred
I have chosen to fight 
by giving it light. 
I want it 
in everyone's sight. 
  
Your rage and hatred is your only boast. 
But with it you are engrossed. 
Like you, your rage and hatred 
are nothing but compost. 
Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit 
gives me what I need the most. 
  
And for you, that is just 
too bad so sad. 
  


Details | Free verse | |

Six o'clock, Friday afternoon, Karen Beam Memorial Garden

While I lie on this stone wall
hand almost too weary to write
I can see tiny ants scurrying about on the pavement
curious mobile sesame seeds exploring an empty bottle
and the last few of the lonely afterschool crowd
shuffle into cars and drive away
here I sit, alone in my pondering
the wind and rustle in the trees
speaking to me and me only.

Upon this ground I have tread many times
many times have I, too, shuffled past nature with nary a thought
but today my senses are sharpened somehow through exhaustion and lack of 
sleep
and the grounds speak to me with a voice and a soul
that no man could possess.

Weakness has made me aware of nature’s 
awesome power. Sugar ants
crawl all over my leg and I pay no mind. For
the air smells and tastes green as the spider grass,
and the forest canopy shields my
fair skin from the sun.

Some people spend their whole lives looking for peace.
I have found peace here
no siren can rival the chirping of the birds
no bitter taste can wash away this sweetness
and all my pain is but a leaf carried away on the breeze.


Details | Ode | |

Politics And Politicians

The good is evil and the evil is good;
The omen is clear,yet,no one reads,
The signal is up, still no one heeds,
There is but one use of power,
It is to save people,
But all we hear of power is trouble,
Everyone wants to get and use it,
They want to gain popularity,
Winning elections a neccesity,
Campaigns all exaggerations,
Their evil deeds no explanation,
Well-wishers they are yet to woo,
Birds chatter where they woo,
Birds chatter where they coo,
The desire to be famous is an attempt,
Forgetting that familiarity breeds contempt;
Speeches are delivered in lying tongues,
Manifestoes in dying souls,
People are suffering,children are dying,
Still,they're obstinate and blind,
Passing frrom deception to deception,
And to final illusion,
Host in the wonder of their own greatness.



Details | Tanka | |

Area In The Periphery

gnats, hovering in a 
tear drop, battle dust motes for
room.  a peaceful wind
separates them.  i should be
glad with my personal space.


Details | Personification | |

A Highway Run

From city to city I can see the lights!
From time to time they are incredibly bright.
I’m on a highway-run to my destiny!

From city to city I can see new things!
From time to time instant excitement it brings.
I’m on a highway-run to my identity!

From city to city I can see all there is to be!
From time to time I am beyond my own capacity.
I’m on a highway-run to my reality!

From city to city I can see so much!
From time to time I am more than enough.
I’m on a highway-run to my eternity!

From time to time and from city to city,
A highway run for me is more than enough for my plenty!


Details | Rhyme | |

At Any Moment I Could Leave This Earth

At Any Moment…  I Could Leave This Earth!

At any moment, I could leave my earthly home!
When this happens, I won’t be alone!

At any moment, my life could come to an end.
When I leave, I won’t be taking any friends!

At any moment, eternity could come for me.
Then I’ll leave this world beneath me!

At the moment, when my life shall disappear.
I’ll be with my Lord.  This is so clear!

At this moment, when I meet my savior above.
I’ll have a new body as a gift of his love.

After the moment, when I depart
 into the life eternal.
God will find my name in the
 “book of life’s journal.”

I remember the moment when I invited Jesus in.
And asked him to forgive 
my every sin.

I remember the moment I received his salvation.
In Christ…  I was a brand new creation!

This moment with Jesus can be yours as well!
The choice is clear.  It’s heaven or hell!

Won’t you take a moment with him?  You can know!
Where in eternity God will place your soul.

This moment can be yours.  Jesus is talking!
He stands at your hearts door,
 patiently knocking!

By Jim Pemberton


Details | Blank verse | |

Burgundy

So this is what it’s about
sitting under the darkening sky
hoping to finish the last red drop
before the first rain drops

swirling burgundy around the crystal
grape puddles breathing an oily fog
spit seeds of perception—
the acidity of intellect
eating through the rinds of remorse
as she speaks
and speaks?


Details | Free verse | |

Gypsy

I have wandered
into your land -
its verdant cry
has pierced my soul.
Mine are
the dust-covered colors
of a violent sunset;
see my skirts swirl
ablaze in the summer wind.
My heart is
a magician’s cache
of tricks and turns –
invisible to the eye, 
startling with their vision.
My wit is
a dark night cast
with stars that shine
promise of other worlds.
My eyes are
a noon sky – 
have stared too long
at suns and moons,
have seen days
become years.
I am deeply ancient.
I am tabula rasa.
I knew you
when you were born, yet
discovered you only yesterday.
I will always 
be this curious and wise
gypsy woman –
dancing in the wind,
walking on fire,
wading the river,
listening
for the lush pine grove
that whispers in the evening,
that sings my soul’s music
in a voice that is yours.


Details | Rhyme | |

While the Owner is Away

Dishes lie in the kitchen sink,
just waiting to be washed.
While spiders scurry everywhere,
begging to be squashed.
Plants die from a lack of water,
after feeling the sun's harsh light.
Specks of dust come out of hiding
to butter the furniture at night.
The metal stomach of the mailbox
is stuffed with untouched mail.
And the only sound within the halls
is the phone's electronic wail.
The yard closes it's colorful eyes,
when the sun sends it's last ray.
The empty home slumbers
while the owner is away.


Details | Blank verse | |

a day without

dark pavement 
covered with wind-blown leaves
tonight, every object
shining in the midnight gutters
is at first a quarter.
my hand fights 
to keep the hair out of my face
the shape of the gesture reminds me of you
& places less cold
than the sidewalk
of this forgotten town.
thoughts:
something about the way 
you mentioned my wings
as though they'd be obvious 
to every eye
or
that touch 
in a not so distant moment
this dream made real
something i'm scared i'll wake from.
i think it will be a while,
before i find that quarter.
how long until morning?



Details | I do not know? | |

broken glass & aluminum castles

the silence shatters
in the back alleys of your mind,
a cat springs from a fire escape.
hitting the ground, she stumbles
near imperceptible,
revealing the last vestiges of kittenhood.
recovering herself, 
she slinks unnoticed through a doorway
shimmering, it disappears behind her;
the last way out.


Details | Free verse | |

A Morning Entrance

at my entrance I am greeted
with pallid stares.
I walk, head down, into the back room
so that I can avert their eyes to a 
more interesting specimen.
this works only momentarily
as I am forced to take my
position among these foreign minds.

stop these assumptions,
these suspicions of why my
mouth is not worthy to open to your ears,
of how I am unable to speak at the sight of you.
in truth, I am afraid of you.
in lies, you disgust me.
sometimes it is both.

I walk to the back room again,
different eyes watch my movements,
they rudely speak,
knowing that I will not answer,
and when I leave, I can hear them
laughing like the scabs on my knees
and elbows.

I resume my position at the front
and beg to be ignored,
as I ignore them.


Details | I do not know? | |

Hide and seek with life

Two realities.
=
“You can never give someone something 
without losing it, feeling its loss.”
He tells me, his dreamy eyes fixed on 
the currencies quivering in
the evening breeze coming down.
Time is purring from the bushes, shrubs.
The monies disappear soon, like 
those clever parrots, always alert.
He is now my appointed guide; 
together we enter the verdant
density of the immense unknown.
From behind, my hotel’s verandah 
tries to keep looking at us through green
trees and leaves; at last utterly fails.
We come to the ancient cedar 
with two owls, presently sleeping.
A rodent comes out to try to salvage 
the foods, it has left hearing steps.
Soon the owls will rise. Then it will be 
same ‘hide and seek’ before the rodent 
is eaten. We are there. Waiting 
for a predator as entertainment.  

=© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar 


Details | Rhyme | |

IN MEMORIAM

  The end of May is coming . . .
  When  the nation celebrates Memorial Day.
  Schools and offices are closed . . .
  It's the summer's first holiday.

  Do we remember why we celebrate today . . .
  Or what the "Stars and Stripes" mean?
  Do we ever remind our children . . .
  Of where our flag has been.

  From Bunker Hill to Yorktown . . .
  And Tripoli to New Orleans.
  From the Halls of Montezuma . . .
  It has waved up in the breeze.

  From Chateau Thierry to the Argonne . . .
  Pearl Harbor, Guadalcanal, Tarawa, and Iwo Jima too.
  From the Cassarein Pass to Messina . . .
  From Anzio, Omaha Beach, Saint-Lo, and Bastogne she flew.

  From Pusan to Inchon . . .
  From Hue, Tan Son Nhut, and places with stranger names.
  From the Mideast Gulf to Bagdad . . .
  And then back home, again.

  Are these just names in our history books?
  I say, "Not at All!"
  They are the reminders of the resting places . . .
  For those who answered the call.

  For Men carried the flag of our country . . .
  Through shot and shell and murderous fire.
  Some of them have never returned . . .
  To their homes and heart's desire.

  Look at the field at Arlington . . .
  The Punch Bowl in Hawaii or the land in southern France.
  Where white crosses grow in the countryside . . .
  For those who did not get another chance.

  And what of those who did come home . . .
  Do we ever really think of them?
  They too, gave a full measure of devotion . . .
  They too, had our liberty to defend.

  So on this day when we grill our burgers . . .
  Or are giving the ballgame a view.
  Take a moment to say a prayer of thanksgiving . . .
  For those whose sacrifice made it possible for you.

THANKS TO ALL THE VETERANS WHO HAVE SERVED OUR COUNTRY . . .  

          GOD BLESS AMERICA!!


Details | Cinqku | |

Darkness

Darkness
comforting
no eyes to judge
merely quiet solace
surrounds


Details | I do not know? | |

Midnight in Johannesburg

1.

Calm descends,
feathery, misty, settling gently on this city’s breath.

Elusive sleep,
teases,
hiding amongst the clouds,

while silver ribbons of moonlight, caress the concrete.

2.

Midnight in Jo’burg,
alone, in this wild-eyed, crazy city,

warm and cruel at once,

ragged, torn, sublime,

brimming with African life,

alive in an African summer night.

3.

Zimbabwe, you are us,

Morocco is infused in our veins,

Nigeria lingers on our wet kisses,

Malawi, we are you.

4.

A continental mosaic,

the smells of Cairo,
and sounds of Dakar,
soaked in tastes of Addis,

mingle on my city’s streets.

5.

We are all, African.

‘They’ are not the other,

we are ‘them’, tossed in a communal pot,

sipping mampoer*,
and chowing pap and vleis*,

in my city,

my Jozi**,

your Jo’burg**,

our eGoli**

_____

* – a home-brewed drink, and a maize-meal porridge and meat.

** – all names refer to Johannesburg.


Details | Free verse | |

Toronto- 'What is our Nation'

Toronto,
you feel it in your bones,

but Toronto,
I am so alone,

I'm living in the library
and trying to forget you,

I wish to escape...
because Toronto, I am afraid.

Toronto, I am displaced.

My ancestors fought for a land
that I no longer know,
and I live with you now,
and bury myself, 
further and further in familiar snow.

Toronto, where did I come from?

Toronto, we have a problem.

'What is our nation?


Details | Free verse | |

Beating Your Drum

Be yourself, good and bad
Express your pain, sing your songs

Open up to the world around you
Dance in the light, lurk in the shadows

Run in the forest and swagger through the city streets

Seek eternal love, turn your back on others

Be notorious, draw attention to yourself
Be silent and watch people as they do their silly people things

Write and write and write then burn it all. After that write some more and share it with everyone

Travel to places you’ve never been
Make new friends in the places you’ve seen all your life

Question everything even when you’re told not to. What do they know anyway? No one has all the answers, not even half

Paint a picture of a mundane scene and insert your own beauty

Create past the point of boredom. Create past the point of criticism

Laugh in the face of naysayers. Show them what courage is. Cry when it feels right, trust me you’ll know

Love like there is no tomorrow because you never know when their won’t be


Details | Haiku | |

TEXAS TWO STEP a haiku

TEXAS TWO STEP

She, black-eyed
stole his Caddy's keys
headed North


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Impact of Radiation

my knowledge on the
impact  of radiation 
is quite limited

but I do wonder
if radiation would be
in a brand new car

that was produced in
Japan after the earthquake
and the tsunami

if the water has
radiation, would the paint
on the car be safe?

do we realize that
dangerous radiation
impacts the whole world?

do we realize air,
water and nature will not
be safe for mankind?


sadly, inventions
without preparations for
disasters proceed

and mankind welcome
each with great expectations
to increase comfort

until the next time
a tradgedy occurs, and
many lives are lost


Details | Free verse | |

Murder of a Betrayed Soul

Have you slowed your busy pace to take notice of a drop of rain? 
 As the sun glints through it, do you see its natural and quiet beauty?
Becalm your soul in the exquisite burst of color from a leaf after autumn’s first kiss.
Have you tuned your ear to the fall of the first snowflake of winter?
Become mesmerized by the quiet order in natures every soft footfall? 
As the season’s tiptoe past, do you draw inspiration, or blindly immerse yourself in the bland cares and concerns of your daily rush?
Grinding your soul into nothingness on the treadmill of society’s thoughtless whims.
Imprisoned in a self-made sightless box of disregard. 
Your spirit slowly snuffed out without so much as an objection to the lack of trial or jury. 
Will you call a mistrial, or will you pray for a last minute death row pardon? 
Have you betrayed your soul?

                                                                                                                                Summer Gratias


Details | Free verse | |

Tuesdays Are Free At The Museum

My hands are busy with today, 
but my thoughts hang back 
in the humid air of a deceptive 
yesterday; to dinner and the jungle heat 
congealed under umbrellas, 
stained with the residue of city traffic, 
too loud and too close for significant 
atmosphere to stand any chance 
in factoring urban style. 

Paris, it wasn't, but the setting suggested 
the delusional coolness of a sidewalk café. 
The invisible sultriness that had seduced 
the day forced rivulets of sweat 
from even the chic-est brows tucked beneath 
the shaded shadow of the backdropped skyscraper. 

Heat had the upper hand, and with attitude, 
flipped off the advancing breeze from the lake; 
defeated, it proffered nothing more 
than the stale breath of a probing lover. 

The haricots verts were passable, 
the whitefish with pesto-laced orzo - 
commendable. The coffee? Ah, the coffee 
was an invisible accompaniment 
to a parody of authentic New York cheesecake. 
It was a one sip, one bite affair, exchanged 
for an iceless margarita in deference 
to the science of cooling the body 
with room temperature libations. 

Jose winked from the glass 
as I settled back in my chair 
and began to paint a self portrait 
for other people's minds. 

It's what a poet does 
on the avenue in Chicago, 
in the heat, in July; 
eat, drink and imagine 
you're seen. 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Decide What To Do

Look at the flood
Where waters run deep
Look at the lost faith
So hard to keep
Death and destruction
And everything gone
No words are needed
Just listen and watch
And decide what to do
Just listen and watch
And decide what to do
Colors become blind
When we’re all of one mind
Waters wash away riches
And unite the poor
Business suits and cut offs
Take water the same
When we’re up to our necks
We’re all of one name
So hand in hand we embrace
To make a stand
Working together to strive
To clear out the damage
Turn back the waters
And once again live
Flood waters run deep
No words are needed
Just listen and watch
And decide what to do
There’s a simple strength here
That won’t be defeated
It’s one that’s united
In me and in you
So as I take your hand
Here is mine
Together we’ll decide
Just what to do
While making our stand
No words are needed
Just listen and watch
And decide what to do


Details | Rhyme | |

The Haunt of Miller's Peak

Standing still;
A thrill -
A shrill -
Bewitching thoughts beyond the Mill.
I watch and wait,
Beyond the gate;
A thought I’d rather contemplate.

Trembles scare;
I stare -
I dare -
To peek behind a rocking chair.
I hear a creek,
A water’s leak;
Reminding me of Miller’s Peak.

Tempting bait;
A fate -
A date -
Some day I’ll waltz through spectre’s gate.
I’ll feel a chill,
Beyond the Mill;
So beckoned by a Whippoorwill.

But not today;
I stay -
I lay -
So comfortable upon the hay.
Beyond the fence,
A heightened sense;
A shadow bringing much suspense.


Details | Free verse | |

Home Sweet Home

Home Sweet Home
My childhood home
Is cherished 

Memories filled with
Silver and gold
And sometimes pure cold.

No one told me
It would go with me
Where ever I go 

When I roam from
Town to town
I carry it with me

I open the door
Each night when
I go to sleep
And dream.

I can’t shake
What I learned
And what I didn’t 
Learn inside 
My honeycomb

I can’t stop
Moaning 
About that
Home.


Details | Free verse | |

Excess of Human Emotion

The city sleeps,
its lights tucked away,
hidden,
once vibrant and illuminated-
now dark and incomplete.
Speckles of dew litter the streets,
the excess of human emotion,
recycled,
a predator hunting its new victim
as it cowers in the darkess, waiting.


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Precarious Lives

Public Figures live a life that is filled with angst
and paranoia, always wondering where
their enemies are, so they experience ambivalence
when venturing far,

Naysayers often crawl out from the woodworks,
taunting and acting like jerks,
The perks they get from notoriety is pale in
comparison to the anxiety overzealous people bring,

A precarious life is what they look forward to,
so their lives is based on being impromptu,
Often wondering who is trying to get through
their walls of high tech security and fear.........


Details | Rhyme | |

SANCTUARY

SANCTUARY THE POOL HAS SURROUNDING GREAT BOULDERS ASSURING AND SECRETIVE, CUPPING WIDE BUBBLING DEEP BAPTISMAL RUSHES OF AZURE WATER RELEASES HOT FLASHING PENDANTS IN GLORIOUS JUNGLE REPRIEVE. THE POOL HAS MUFFLED SOUNDS FROM NIGHT ANIMALS CALLING GUESTS’ REST RULES, THE AQUIFER FLOWS UP STRONG, SPRINGS OUT WHITE FOAMING RIPPLES. SUPREME GREEN WATERCRESS REINS IN DRIPPING OVERHANGS AND COOLS. THE POOL HAS A PLACE FOR CONTINUOUS QUIETUDE FOR MEMORIES SWEET AND SOUR, THAT LACKS POUNDING REMMNANTS FROM OLD HUMAN CRITIQUES RINSED AWAY IN DEEP DIPS REFRESHING THE MIND WITH A SOFT CLEANSING POWER. THE POOL HAS MAGNIFICENT WATERFALLS OF TREMENDOUS HEIGHT AGAISNT GLISTENING SUNRAYS, SPINNING CRISP REFLECTIONS INTO A TUMBLING CHURNING BOTTOM WHERE YOU STAND. SWIMMING IN THESE SPECIAL WATERS NEW SOUL AND REJUVENATED BODY, YOU IT PAYS. THE POOL HAS THE MASTER’S UNIQUE CIRCUMFUGAL TOUCH OF BEAUTY IN EERY MOSS COVERED STONES, SLEEPING LEOPARD, RED PARROT, ELEPHANT EARS AND CAMILLA FLOWERS ALONG AND NEARBY, RESOLVES EVERY COURAGEOUS THOUGHT FOR A SATISFIED FLATLAND RETURN OF NEW OLD BONES. BY JEAN A. WILSON, SEPTEMBER 1, 2011


Details | Blank verse | |

cracked headstones & unfinished thoughts

six writers in a cemetary
each scribbling at the ears of the others
focusing through drunken desire
what could be better?
these casscadeing lines, 
broken sonnets
shouted into fields of dead
cracked headstones & unfinished thoughts
Where have i been?
so many years squandered
i've sat here before,
in this very spot
& felt that somehow, 
it must be my own
i've read these lines before,
never quiet giving them life
now with the sound of name-dropping poets,
listing every friend, financer,
first love, & false start,
i realize
someday we will be the name-droppers,
recalling the first times
we spoke, read, felt
these words
or that line
never quite finished
with the list of beginings
first times


Details | Free verse | |

PROFANE LANGUAGE

Profane language 
has lately become
part of our lewd society...
it is the tantrum
of young and old;
if we don't use it:
we aren't cool anymore!


Hollywood has adapted it
in every imaginable way:
in action, drama, comedy;
yes, profanity sells well...
while writers, cast and crew
smile going to their banks!


If no curse words
are used in movies,
crowds aren't interested
in going to see them...
movie-goers encourage
this filthy trend to go on!


Today, this disease has invaded
the Music World...some lyrics
are very rude and offensive:
they exploit the many sides
of human sexuality shamelessly...
are you still listening to them? 


The only and sure way to stop
the profanity and the immorality
of these condoned lifestyles
is very simple: refrain from going
to movie theaters, or buying cds:
send an alarming message to them!


Details | Free verse | |

The Bus

Get up and go

Foul smells assault my nose

taking all my senses in its strong hands and draining the life from them

I struggle to breathe 

A woman—her age, sad as her condition pulls her crippled body off and away 

I feel the wheels moving under my lightly shod feet 

I want them to move faster

A man who controls only parts of his body rolls his donated disgusting chair out 
of the way

So those with useful appendages will not be hindered 

Silent I consider my faults 


Details | Free verse | |

To walk out your door

It takes uncertainty, I know 
to walk out your door 
and walk through another that’s not yours 
Of course, there’s too a course 
that other, unfamiliar, shoes use 
There are signs and there are signs 
not always along the way 
There is opportunity 
there is stop’n wait’n see 
choices others can’t make 
You’ll find too, things that go wrong. . . far from the right 
Afternoon. . . turns to morning. . . skips to night 
There is certain to be a promise. . . a goal. . . a loss 
and love’s. . . not yet in the toss 
Advice listened, taken and given 
Too few things, too many things. . . you’ll come to know 
It takes certainty 
to walk out your door


Details | Prose Poetry | |

A sound of orient

A sound of orient 
-
He looks like a fragranced oasis in this city; 
a lean, yet muscular man in a dhoti, 
sweaty; playing flute, a plateful of bland food 
in front of him, his humble surrounding, the hut.
A village man, who has once come in chasing dream, 
is now a part of this city, a part of speed, 
all except his flute and customary dhoti. 

The dizzy sound travels up, to the fifth floor terrace, 
to the sad man and sadder woman, to the sadists, 
to the dying and to the dead. It climbs up like veins. 
His is a life, with its own brands of pain and love, 
not demanding, the way sometimes this city extracts. 
The days and nights extract a man. 
He hauls out others or vise versa. 

A sound disappears in sleep, 
becomes a village in the vale, 
where dreams move like sheep.
~© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar.


Details | Classicism | |

Castelli di Cielo - Human Vices Create Sky Castles

From the Heavens, our vices seen,
stainless, expressionless, push wrinkled coy 
cadavers...

Ancient goddesses sculpting, almost clinging;
diffident osseous perfection,
lest seeking lives,
each draping marble clothing,

don't mistake your depravity, 
for a book or poem of your whole life,
-you scrawl yourself...

Steel sized love, pull hanging bodies;
to the grave, as mankind can only gaze,
at childish games... 

Some gods,
cast in Melodrama's, on high sky castles,
not many know, a human will,-the architect:
can direct and compose, its Purpose...


Details | Rhyme | |

The Road

The road of life is winding
With no defining path
To keep our souls from straying
Or the heart we give from breaking
From a love not meant to last
Just given for the moment
But lives forever in our past

So no matter where we journey
There's a lesson to be learned
With every step, there's times we're lost
Within the darkness
Till faith and light returns
To find the road
That's meant to be
For each to call their own
A place that takes a lifetime
Just to find the end unknown

Where fate has waited for us
Watching how we stand and fall
Reaching beyond peaks and valleys
Needing both to cherish all
In this gift we call a lifetime
Hand in hand 
Or all alone
What a privilege we've been given
Just to walk along the road

Kevin D. Fix


Details | I do not know? | |

Youthful Memories

                               Ducks quack and waddle toward us, grabbing food 
                               from your tiny outstretched hands 
                              Bread crumbs fall onto dusty Earth; they eat.
                              You run toward the cedar box 
                              kicking chips, and sit
                              on metal swing 
                              “Jess, push me.” 
                               hair flaps behind
                               and giggles 
                               fill us 
                                joy.


Details | Limerick | |

Flat Spare Tire

             spare forgotten, now flat, abused,

                  like some veteran overused

                   in at least two world wars

       whose alleged treads are darkened scars,

            burnt, rubbed off rubber, unamused,

        frayed steel threads, no, I'm not excused.


Details | Rhyme | |

I'll Never Be The President


I'll Never Be The President... I have no intentions to be the president... This world is not my eternal residence! I Have no intentions to live in a cathedral.. Nor to engage in what's merely "procedural." I have no intentions of getting too "political..." I don't want to be too "hypocritical." I have no intentions of being "famous" or "admired." This is not my ambition, nor my desire! My intentions I hope are pretty clear... To follow Jesus... Whom I love so dear! My intention is do my very best... To live for Christ. I am so blessed! My intention is to focus on this one goal… To seek after God with all of my soul! My intentions need to be fixed and directed. Following God's word, as I'm daily "corrected." My intention is to focus on Christ with my mind! And to give him my life and my time! Christ' intention is to be my Lord and friend. And to cleanse me from the darkness within! Christ intends to always be faithful and true! He's always there for ME and for YOU! By Jim Pemberton


Details | Rhyme | |

God's Kingdom Is ETERNAL


God’s Kingdom Is ETERNAL! I think about civilizations, future and past. No matter how large... They never last! Every kingdom has crumbled to the ground. The “great empires” can no longer be found! As I think about this... I began to wonder. What’s happened to man’s “glory and splendor? There is a kingdom which will never end... The entrance is narrow, to those who want in. The way to get in is through Jesus’ shed blood. It’s inhabitants have received his gift of love! The beauty of this place is a sight to behold. So glorious and wonderful… The half hasn’t been told! This place can be yours! An eternal home! Through Christ… We can approach God’s holy throne! Won’t you make plans for a life eternal? So your name can be placed in heaven’s journal! The kingdom of God is an opportunity to share. I plan to be part of it… And hope to see you there! By Jim Pemberton


Details | Free verse | |

i wish you a good day

the spill outwards of  a new day
the waterfall
la cascada ...

what and where have you been?
the trials and tribulations-
are you so removed from me?
do the rocks of a shallow bottom
prevent you from
being my hero
from diving therein?

does one speak with an unhinged tongue?
do we come back
together ?

like pieces of the puzzle
do we grip one another with
uncertainty?
just to say 
goodbye!

so
once when we get it again ...
we realize
our fleeting
moment ...

i love everyone
and as usual,
i'll spill over the edge -

let the intensity be
the lava in my mind

goodbye
and
good  luck

it means everything!

(i'm molten)


Details | Name | |

I Work Hard For The Money

members of teamsters
an army of one
yielding for a better tomorrow

doing the job right
assuring quality and quanitity production
year after year



Tribute To
International Workers Day


Details | Rhyme | |

Portrait

The voices seem to travle through the wall.
Slitther down the sidewalk.
To settle in a place were no one cares at all.

As the painter makes strokes  apon a canvas 
with black and grey.
Screams fill the streets.
As passing cars cruise  alleys
were prostituttes work and the homeless stay.


On rooftops on the hot summer nights.
people dream beyond the jungle.
has on the other side of towm a preist gives 
a man his last rights.

A cat turns over a garbage can.
Down at the bar a drunk.
Talks about his far fetched  plan.

I'll take you away he tells the barmaid.
spits more bullshit.
in all hopes just t get laid.

the DJ's voice cuts through the night.
Fan in window  sweat filled sheets.
trying to catch a rest befor light.

Another fix and and soon he'll crave more.
Jokes told to empty heart.
As the winos gather in back of liqour store.

The canvas is the slums.
it was a grand old building till sombody in blue torched it.
We exist in its shadow as the night paints 
it portrait 


Details | Rhyme | |

Carolina Summers

How sweet the honey suckled air,
long summer days without a care,
(our childhood feet were always bare),
spent playing in the hot sun's glare.

On summer nights we played 'til dark,
in fields among the meadowlarks,
to us, it was a real ball park,
we left there sweaty, faces marked.

Through darkness lit with fireflies,
(like walking home through star-filled skies),
our sleep was deep, life simplified,
lulled by cricket's lullabies.

Carolina's endless summers,
filled with play and guiltless slumbers,
children free and unencumbered,
unaware our days were numbered.


©Danielle White


Details | Couplet | |

Man Must Find

Man Must Find
     By Dane Smith-Johnsen

Words in the night spent on heaven’s sheen
Shared with friends one has never seen.
Ramble through the mind unwitting.
In hopes that words shall be well fitting.
Occasions come with explanations gird.
Upon the heart that has not God heard.

Words that vanish in the dark
Words that hold an inner spark,
Words that hide within one’s heart,
Words that light an inner part,
Words that heard by mountain’s stones
Are filled with a spirit’s inner groan.

Whether running through the hills
Or laughing loudly sending chills
Whether sitting where ancients sat
Or hearing words that God begat,
Whether walking down a hall
Or on a court with a basket ball,

There are places inside the heart
Places that shall not depart.
There are places in the mind
Where many thoughts are left behind.
There are places in the soul
Places that know God’s greatest goal.

Whether shopping in a mall
Or on your knees giving God a call.
Whether lost within a book
Or within one’s self taking a look.
Whether resting on a bench
Embracing God with one’s soul synched.

As we wander the asphalt roads
Remember the path to God’s abode.
And if your burden ever seems too great,
Call on Him; do not hesitate.
God, our father, whose spirit stands
Will always reach for His children’s hand.

9-13-2009 Start time: 4:00 End time 4:23+13 proof read “Write Now” practice piece.  23 min.


Details | I do not know? | |

The Vagabond Within

The Vagabond Within.

I slip through cracks,
my memories dimming,
as thoughts of yesterday swirl,
down dreary tunnels of decay,
into the chasm that is today.

Waiting, forever waiting,
to belong, yearning to fit in,
taking solace in transient cities,
wearing masked faces,
tailored for fleeting places.

 I stagger each night, lost,
wasting precious breaths,
drawn from a lifetime of sighs,
no consolation from the cruel,
while donning the skin of the fool.

Wrestling unseen demons,
dreading tomorrow as it nears,
ripping away my shallow smile,
withering into a hollow shell,
seeking comfort in everyday hell.

I stumble, I falter,
words slipping off pen onto paper,
fickle doleful murmurs of distaste,
at the gradual emptying of a soul,
needing to shed it all to be whole.

Stray dogs savage each other inside,
a body lathered in deep muck,
soiling my pants, wetting my being,
whistling promises that turn into lies,
the plaintive songs of a clown that cries.

I am momentary, 
a soap bubble on the breeze,
just smoke clearing into thin air,
wasting away in my cocooned lair,
too old to change, too young to care.


Details | Blank verse | |

Bridge on Rome

Where I grew
I felt a cert
that with hair so "ging-eh"
Touch would be revulsion.

So at pitch black 1
when they'd hassled me "You're late"
and the lift was blown off for bad behaviour.
The quick footsteps
grabs, snares, gropes, sniffs and stalks-
I walked alongside secure.
Would they dare touch a ging?

Not even in the narrow
scraps or runs
did I choose the safe option.
Poison of the tongues
that acidly tortured my days,
fell my safety to the night.

...and yet I thought I was a bad runner too,
but sufficient it seems.

So when there's a void,
perhaps it is your glaring eyes to blame,
as it was your lips who taught
the voices that shed the light
away from the bridges
of the estates.

...and spent my luck too early


Details | Haiku | |

The Drifting Dust

Footprints on the trail
Lead to a house where once lived
Covered in the dust


Details | Lyric | |

I Wanna Go Home (part 2)

My life and job is hot,
And hard 
I’m sick of the BR retards
I’m ready to slow down
Chill and be myself 
On the Southside of Roe,
Where the trill players be.

Just like that Chilly G anthem
M-O-N-R-O-E
That’s where all the real players be.
The ninjas in BR can’t feel me.
They can’t feel racism, haterism, 
And true tragedy.

I wanna go home,
 Where the true ninjas roam.
Every year a high school team
From Roe goes to the dome.
M-O-N-R-O-E
Spell it ninja
Where we hunt for deer,
Rabbits, squirrels, and fake ninjas.

Where haters are worse 
Than ninth ward killers of NO
M-O-N-R-O-E
That’s how you spell the place,
 Where people are the realest.

Just like that Chilly G anthem
M-O-N-R-O-E
That’s where all the real players be.
The ninjas in BR can’t feel me.
They can’t feel racism, haterism, 
And true tragedy.


Details | Rhyme | |

Simple dreams

A field of grass
Beneath bare feet
The smell of rain 
In early spring
The wind that blows
Through waves of wheat
That's why I wish for simple dreams

The birds that sings at early dawn
The sun that melts the morning frost
Once shimmered by the winter moon
Now drops that dance on every roof
And wake the flowers from their sleep
That's why I wish for simple dreams

To count the stars that light the sky
To close my eyes and dream at night
Or lie beneath the rolling clouds
With intervals of shade and warmth
Nestled by a rippled creek
That's why I wish for simple dreams

Kevin D. Fix


Details | Free verse | |

Coming Home

He came home in fatigues
a late night in March
chill, crisp windless.

His heavy shined shoes pairingly
stole the chipped, warped
creaking boards of
the basement stairs. 

Turning the corner,
stepping into the living room
shiny black leather 
steel tipped boots  dripped
clinging snow onto the worn
blue carpet, shoes just 
recently stained of 
dust and mud.

That same sweet smile 
proclaimed, "I'm home!"
grinning ear to ear
expsing frosted red dimples
high on each cheek.

We got a case that night
Molsons.
Before he want to war, 
he always drank Molsons,
he drank them slow, steady.
Amber fluid this night waved
violently into this throat
succeding and receding
behind brown glass.

After those first few gulps
I was shocked when he 
pulled his hat from his brow.
Exposing mans eyes, war's eyes
previously shadowed by his
stately brim.
Eyes begging to be seduced by
the bubbly beverage.

Friends, drink, this momment
was the opposite of coarse winds,
bright bombs, harsh suns,
endless convoys and 
the stench of rotting urban death.

I was witnessing a singular sample
of soldier's spirit splitting, and
splintering apart.
Crumbling like the ancient
secrets buried in the dessert.

Essence exshaused appearing
as exposed steel wire
in deteorating concrete.
The veins of destructed cities, 
soldiers, Baghdad, Iraq.

Bleeding onto sand pressed streets
is blood that can't be 
washed off the hands. 
Can't be drained from the mind.

Crimson that now
darkens this soldiers baby blues. 


Details | Free verse | |

Berlin, Berlin

Berlin
Bearlin
Berlin
How you've captured me
in your claws
your red sky
Has welcomed me
pock-marked arms
Or am I just a poor orphan
to your many lost 
children?
What must I do
to fall
into your line of grace?
Tongues wagging
I fell into you
wandering through
on a happy May day
changing views
of the same station
ever changing worlds
seemed all the same
'til I came to you
you promised
a new dawn
or was I mistaken?


Details | Rhyme | |

Time To Get Up

Tick tock tick tock
Out window with that clock
Each and every frigging day
Tells me to get out of hay

Brushing teeth
Breath smelling so sweet
Another dam hole in sock
Oh how I hate that clock

Blue jean entire
God I'm really tired
Clean sand bugers out of eyes
In rush to say goodbye's

Gas light engine on again
This crisis is such a sin
Scrounging pockets for a buck
Pulling out lint what such luck

Morning greetings from the boss
When all I wanted to do was stay in bed and toss
Paper work piling up
No coffee to fill my cup


Tic tock tick tock
Come on hurry up dam clock
For shopping still has to be done
And let me tell you it's no fun


Kids husband dogs and cats
Drive me nuts like a pack of rats
What can one do
But not to come unglued

So I want to give a big thanks
To my alarm clock that doesn't play pranks
And gets me up and out that door
So I can pay for those things I truely adore

















Details | Rhyme | |

The world I knew

The world I knew, now seems so small
As I wander through my childhood home
Of faded paint and quiet rooms
That holds the past within these walls
Marked by time that crayons made
Pictures of a wondrous place
Where little hands would sit and draw
Dreams that never seem to fade
Till dark would come and hide their shape
Then morning brought them back to me
And carry me away

To the world I knew that mattered most
That taught me how to fly
With storybooks and paper planes
I learned no one could take my wings
This spirits only mine
That comes to life, young or old
We never leave behind
Unlike the walls whose silence grows
Quiet to the world I knew
That never fades with time

Kevin D. Fix


Details | Rhyme | |

Powder in the Dust

My world is so huge,
There’s just so much to see,
There’s still a lot left to explore!
There’s too much left inside to pursue!
My world just captures the depths of a higher intensity!
Oh how I want so much to have your all or more!
Oh how badly I could just give my entire world to you!
But we’re just powders in the dust sorting through all of the density!
Your world is so small.
There’s just so little to see.
It’s lost and hidden with nothing to explore!
There’s still so much left inside of you! 
Truly you want to give or take your all!
Oh how I want so badly to take you to the bottom of my very deep!
How badly I could just give you so much of my all and more!
But we’re just powders in the dust tangled in a magnetic free fall.
Our world is so enormous.
There’s never too much for us to see.
There’s always something magnificent for us to ponder or explore.
Oh how we are so very much beyond the great grand in generous!
Oh how well we fulfill our each and every genuine need!
But we’re just powder in the dust on a journey destined to take our all or more!


Details | Senryu | |

Powdered Sugar Mountain Fair

Powdered Sugar Mountain Fair
Ephemeral fair,
Hundreds of funnel cakes made;
Fluid team work day.


Details | Lyric | |

Raven's Place Of Nowhere

*I entered this Poem in ~Constance~A Rambling Poet's Contest "Among The Dead"

I write from this place of nowhere
This darkened haunt of deep despair
Even a Raven's darkened shade is brighter
Than the mood that has set upon this lair...
There are no words to cheer me.

I look to find a glimmer...
An enlightened shadow of what once was me
But alas that ghost eludes and finds me not
Preferring a labyrinth of happiness, its maze
To the life's webs that now encase me.

I cannot scale these vertical walls
This darkened fortress that surrounds me
And so I dive to ever deeper depths
In this ocean of sadness that seeks to drown me.

No tears can fall from drought-filled eyes
Desert rain has not come bidden
Blood cannot spill from pain-filled thoughts
No apparent wounds to need not be hidden.

A creek of fear and anguish
Feeds into my river of lonely despair
These tides serve to further drown me
In heavier waters with no apparent air.

These words are all I have left within me
To feed what's left of this withered shell
I have been exiled to this lonely oasis
My last hope for water in this, my empty well.

 

(January 23, 2011  Wausau, Wisconsin)

(c) Copyright 2011 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved



Details | Narrative | |

Some mental notes about the poor

Every time I pass by Flushing, Bedford, or Lee Street in Brooklyn
I see Jewish people in complete uniform; most of them in black color,
their faith and loyalty to the Book of Torah makes me reflect
about my own relationship with God, along with my own people.

It’s become a reminder for me as I connect my own journey
to the mysteries of being called to serve and witness to faith;
certain things to develop and deepen along with inner longings
fidelity stressed by the Gospel marks the sign of being one of them.

Discipleship is truly costly as one invests his whole life in it,
there’s a radical shift of lifestyle that follows like a measure -
gauging that genuineness in dialogue with life and other cultures;
needed as a fundamental criterion to carry on God’s mission.

It’s in this way that some highlights of my faith enable me
to see beyond the texts of the Holy Scriptures, images of truth
that convey love relationships with people particularly the poor.

Being open to welcome some wounds and other afflictions
in today’s world where everyone competes with other factors
amid strong forces of secularism and cultural impositions
on life’s situations where the Lord’s teaching dwells.

Although God doesn’t give us all what we really want,
but he provides us with certain things we really need;
it’s a familiar wisdom, a continuing hope as Christians
that his great love for us is often reiterated in many ways.

A priority to “be mindful of the poor”  and have love for them,
an attitude with an evolving deal of surrender to God’s will
no matter how rough the roads will be in reaching out to them
reference to the poor connotes a constant clarion call for all.


Details | Free verse | |

The Ghostly City

We're all alone in this ghostly city
Nothing is real and no-one is here
The skyline is littered with broken buildings
And none of the streetlights work
But still we stay here
Longing for the nothingness we are consumed by
Seductive silence, nothing better to do
The city is quiet
It seems like we own it
The moon barely lighting up the dark streets
But still i can see you
And we see the city
And strangely it feels like the city can see us
Like it knows us
We belong in this city how can we leave now?
The broken skyline shows beautiful imperfections
We've been here too long
For we're all alone in this ghostly city
And we're trapped.


Details | Quatrain | |

Saturday night Enterprise

Saturday here on the holodeck
Jiminy Cricket dances around
to keep baser instincts in check
theoretical ethical dilemmas abound.

The holodeck is like dream time
capable of desires and fantasies
events both horrifying and sublime
played out, life across the galaxies.

An actor on a stage of possibility
can play the part of hero or villain
dastardly or the epitome of civility
darker motifs behind curtain hidden.

Which, to be or not to be, selected
choose, and get into character to portray.
Is the actor the character, or unaffected
by the actions of the part that he plays?

Is it harmless release to play it "bad"
and too, is it no value to play the "good".
Was Hamlet's character really raving mad,
or the sheriff far worse than Robin Hood?

All the world's a stage, us merely players
might go beyond the cornered universe
to philosophers, hucksters, soothsayers
all who purport good to bad and obverse.

The doors to the holodeck close "shwoosh"
and our man by the door gives a nod
tonight's experience might be an ambush
or tomorrow's wizened connecting rod.

Life's lyrics still sing melodious tunes
for singers, actors, and audience to decide
Jiminy with umbrella and hat, so croons
"Always Let Your Conscience Be Your Guide."

© Goode Guy 2011-06-08

tweeeeeeeeeeet...all hands report to the holodeck!


Details | I do not know? | |

passage 37

it is the passage 37
when my age will show
and it is time to pray to heaven

Reveal the truth
admit mortal flaws
confess my thousand wrong
kneel down on my two paws

Mother,by my side
revelations that I will not hide
I have committed many lies that has been said
It hurts the soul to cry and ask:
DID THAT JUST COME FROM INSIDE THIS WICKED HEAD?

40 is around the pike
recollecting the deeds that I never did like
sweethearts of the old and the young
but HERE I AM,alone..with such verses yet to be sung

The Pied Piper led many MOUSEcreants homeward
Still playing that flute that still can be heard
As for me,I sit here typing..
a lonely pauper,an advancing nerd

PASSAGE 37

I end this poem

to Sleep..UNDISTURBED!!


Details | Rhyme | |

Decaying

Somewhere down the dusty lane
lies a vacant, run down house.
The withering walls surround
the tiny footprints of a mouse.
Shattered windows forget
the tender gleam of yesterday.
While a blanket of common dust
paints the rotten timbers gray.
Shadows haunt empty rooms,
displaying scraps from the past.
As the wind howls in hollow halls,
weeping for a monument unable to last.
In the woven cobweb of endless time,
all mortal things must rust and decay.
Mortar crumbles and roofs collapse,
for man made things aren't meant to stay.


Details | Narrative | |

The Morning After

Sitting by the window at the Njogu-ini Hotel
I see my new people stream by
I can see them but they can’t see me
The window is a one way mirror 

So, this is how they look like 
Ordinary, though filled with immense purpose 
From this side of the window I can still feel their energy 
They are a people focused, a people determined
That is what it on the offset seems
But I know if most of them could be stripped within 
Much of what is common where I come from will be seen

They do have their fears
They too are enslaved by the system
They too do have their heartaches
They too have their poverty

The city may be defined by tall buildings 
And the streets lined with beautiful cars
But I believe astutely inside
They who mostly pass on foot outside 
Are victimised by the sites
	
Cars they can’t afford to buy
	Houses they can’t afford to rent
	The tall buildings are traps for their hard earned cash
	The supermarkets are large and their windows are lit bright
	Their purpose to lure and aptly tap
	The hard earned cash of my new cosmopolitan family

I pity them
Yet I adore their energy


Details | Free verse | |

Since I must Love

Since I must love without you
I must dumpster dive for food
and dream in ruckus rainstorms
with claps of thunder to shake me up.
Since I must love without you
I must write dark poems.
And walk the streets alone
with tattered clothes and no shoes
looking into bookstore windows
as words crumble to nominal.
Since I must love without you
I must dig a hole where the buzzards perch
by the ditch weed and hog grass rows
and thread my thoughts into the earth
as I strip-down to the marrow of my bones.
Since I must love without you.


Dean Walker


Details | Free verse | |

Ferry to Mull and Iona

The mist settles on my face.
My head tilts back stiffly.
Eyes are wedged shut from the bright light, 
Seeing purple, and spots from squinting too tight.  
I can't even look.

I  feel the movement and rush of the water below, the sway.
The smell of the sea and petrol quickens my stomach.
I hear the seagulls circling nearby, and one, even lands near my head.
Startled, I open my eyes to a blurry world.
I jump back, only to glimpse it flying away..

Had I only been still, maybe a secret he'd have shared.
Or did he just want the crust of bread I didn't have?
The haunting ruin to the left takes my breath.
The atmosphere cool and distant.
I can't move.


Details | Verse | |

Narrative Of Mind Verses Heart

The moon sat so dark,
In my velvet memory.
The stars remained stark,
So complimentary.
It's here you watch yourself from afar,
The light catches your fire.
On a rooftop with razor stars,
You stare with lost desire.
You sit upon the most recent edge, 
Contemplating life...
But if you die Tonight.
I wouldn't know until the morning's light.
And though I'll fail I'll try and save your life.
But be warned,
Immortality doesn't mean never dying.
It means everlasting life.


Details | Rhyme | |

Haven

Surrounded by silence
 while engulfed by the sound
Of tempest meeting canopy
 so far from the ground
With civilization
 a distant reflection
This vista still veiled
 from man's motivation
It whispers it's secrets
 In silence I learn
I'll know not tranquility
 until I return


Details | Blank verse | |

no time but now

12am in bad lighting
or now, with morning's stale aftertaste
quietly,
as i sneak through the final 3am doors
later, in subtle announcement
& tonight, as i think less subtle things
all i've ever hidden
& any wall 
i thought worthwhile
surrendered so easily
after a few slight,
faltering steps
what lived before
in whispers
sees now a world of light
slowly filtered
through dim curtains
& self-perfecting insight
(the automatic becoming instinct)


Details | Narrative | |

Poverty through the eyes of a missionary

I was head over heels in love with certain mementos I keep,
they’re like my precious treasures unknown to everyone;
a place where I used to keep them were hidden in my room,
a kind of sanctuary, a private locus sealed with continuity.

I had those stamps collected from different countries and places,
post cards, books, key holders, rosary beads, stampitas, and photos;
they reminded me of my visits to these places where I’d been to,
living memories, collection of souvenirs with values deep within.

Significant places like my home country where my faith began to grow,
along with a diversity of cultures that truly honed and enriched me,
meeting those peoples and experiencing their individual differences,
made me a real person; vulnerable to the needs and issues of being sane.

Across the length of years that I’d spent in keeping those mementos,
some friends, relatives and family members contributed in my own,
as personal stuffs, memoirs, or proofs of having truly been in those places;
from the bottom of my heart, I thank them and indeed, a big difference.

With my constant mobility, however, as one called to serve with migrants,
there’s difficulty to keep them all, carrying them with me wherever I go,
hence, I thought it best to give them away and share with others who like them;
be a simple missionary with nothing much as Christ had told his first disciples.

It’s part of of my religious vows to put into practice what poverty means;
detachment may mean a lot and it embraces nothingness, renunciation –
of one’s will that reflects his agenda for the present and future that holds,
all gets the bottom line - ‘vow of poverty’ in the context of my religious calling.


Details | I do not know? | |

A wish

I have never travelled so far
As to catch a falling star.
I've never seen so great a thing
As China's Great Wall or Victoria's Falls.
I've never been to Rome or Spain
Nor touched the Amazon's rain.
Yet I know that they exist,
As real as the earth and sea.
And though I've never caught a falling star
I've wished upon one from my rusty old car.


Details | Free verse | |

Remembering Kona

I remember gazing upon
 the ocean from my lanai
on the Kona mountainside
Watching the cruise ships
gliding through the dark 
Into Kailua Bay at the 
Same time every morning
always clad in their bright jewel
necklaces that lit up the dawn.

I remember sitting on my
lounge chair
observing the moon
collide with daybreak
And disappear from sight
While sipping Kona coffee
That heavenly aroma
warming me to life.

I remember delighting at the dolphin
Each morning, wondering 
how in the world
they don’t  crash into each other
when they all leap
at once
so carefree and happy,
spinning and twisting
splashing each other
with their play.

I remember watching
The humpback whales 
I mean, they are
magnificent creatures
and my heart would dive
right with them,
and then rise so high
when they leaped
out of the water
How can they do that?
I would search the ocean
For a glimpse of their
Waterspouts, the sign
They would begin jumping again,
What a marvelous way to spend the day!
Watching mothers and babies
play together 
and jealous bulls smack
their tales not be outdone
by women and children.



I remember sitting by
the ocean at Kukio Beach, 
one that few tourists
know about yet,
watching the water
change colors
aquamarine near the shore
cerulean a little farther out
shading into cobalt and indigo,
Wondering just how 
many colors of blue are
in the entire Pacific Ocean
Noticing how the waves 
crash against the rocks in rhythm
 like the
dancing fountains 
at the Bellagio Hotel
in Las Vegas.  
I remember
imagining the music
According to the tempo
Of the waves crashing
On the lava rocks
 and
It was the sweetest
music I ever heard.

I remember leaving
The beach one night
And seeing the full moon
smiling at me 
through the palm trees
Like a big white
Jack-o-lantern;
And I smiled back

And I remember
Waking up in the
Middle of the
Night to see that
Same full moon
Spreading its glow
In a river across
The ocean
Carrying a message
For me right 
up to my lanai.  

It’s time.
It ‘s time now
To go home again.


Details | Free verse | |

101 Elder Road

The house on Elder Street is old,
menopausal in fact, 
with no signs of children at play.
A lovingly maintained lawn 
rolls gently from front porch
to the vine-covered mailbox 
standing guard alongside
the blacktop pavement.
No fences hinder a visitor,
four-legged or two.

Built of strong stuff,
possessing a concrete foundation,
its exterior is real brick - not veneer.
Belonging once to a king, 
this castle’s only turret
is a mighty stone chimney 
capable of warming hearth and hearts.
Inside, a man could serenade his wife
while she let down her hair
without the neighbors hearing.

Then why the carefully stenciled
‘Reduced for Quick Sale’ sign
plunged deeply into the earth 
near the verdigris number marker?
Why not instead,
‘Costs More – Appreciated with Age’?
Weathered house or leathered man –
fewer days of existence
makes one more desirable,
they say.

Sometimes outward blemishes
become more a factor in determining worth
than warmth, character, 
and undeniable inner-charm,
but true value can be recognized
in the beauty of a deal, not curb appeal.
101 Elder Road would be a good investment.
The spirit within comes free.


Details | Bio | |

The Road of Life

Somewhere on this road of life
I got lost in the fog of my perceptions
I’ve been constantly misguided
By my own map of deceptions
Fueled by a hunger for answers
And an endless curiosity
I swore no roadblocks could stop me
When driving at this mental velocity

Yet as I try to remember the directions
That were never made
I feel like just another fool
Searching for shadows in the shade
It’s no wonder I’m eager to live tomorrow
Without ever living today
But how will I ever get there
Without ever knowing the way?

And as I see the bridges of my past
Burning in my rear view mirror
I’m tormented by doubt
As my unknown destination draws nearer
When will these headlights of hope
No longer be essential?
When will I bask in the eternal sunshine
Of tomorrow’s potential?

Perhaps it’s time I stop blinding myself
Of the truth before my eyes
Before this wicked masquerade
Becomes my ultimate demise
Yes, it’s time to accept the truth
The scenery was all just a mirage
Because whether I realize it or not
I never even left the garage


Details | Rhyme | |

Brighton

Birds are coming down to rest on the 
Burnt-out bones of Brighton Pier.
Wish you were here.

My eyes lie well, tell me you're here
With the birds, and the pier, and my bones
Are no longer lonely.

The burnt-out sun comes down to
Kiss the sea, and through the peering birds
Your voice is heard.

Birds are coming down to rest on the 
Burnt-out bones of Brighton Pier...
And you're here.


Details | Rhyme | |

Just Look At God's Beauty


Just Look At God’s Beauty! Just look at this earth and how it was made! Think about it and the awesome beauty displayed! Just look into the mirror… And you will find… A beautiful person by God’s own design! Just look up into the stars and heavens above. God created it all and made it with love! Just look into the beautiful crystal sea. God made this all possible for you and me! Just look at how everything “fit’s into place.” We’re all here because of God’s mercy and grace! Just think about the work Christ accomplished on the cross. He died for you and me... No matter the cost! Just think about this savior who patiently waits. It’s only through him, you can enter heaven’s gates! Just think about what God has done and so much more! He is knocking! At your heart’s door! Just think about the life he offers is pure and everlasting! His awesomeness and glory is beyond our understanding! Just think about this for a moment... This very question... Won’t you accept him now? He gives an invitation! Just think about this choice. A life changing decision! Jesus will give you a new life and a Godly vision! Jesus paid it all! Your soul has been blood bought! Won’t you come to him now? He loves you A LOT! By Jim Pemberton


Details | Personification | |

I Am

I am something you hold when you miss,
And I am forgotten all but a gentle kiss!
I am the cold draft when you’re all alone.
And I am the smile that generates your happy home.
I am something for nothing but I’m more than most.
And I am your summer breeze, I am your host.
I am the tear that falls from your eyes,
And I am the light that outshines your lies.
I am the flutter in your beating heart,
And I am the breath that gives you a fresh start.
I am the lump in your throat when lost for words,
And I am the silence you have always heard.
I am the warmth traveling in your blood,
And I am the memory you instantly flood.
I am the dream you’ve always had,
And I am the one with you happy or sad.
I am the one that always told you so,
And I am the only person you positively know.
I am taken and given because I just am,
And I am exactly what I am,
And not even by you will I be jammed!
 
© Copyright  Ann Rich   2006


Details | Rhyme | |

Sand

I don’t really understand
When I am at the beach,
Why I always find some sand
In places out of reach.

Before I leave, I brush each grain
From in-between my toes.
Still, at home, I can’t explain
Its presence on my clothes…

And also on my bathing suit,
My beach bag and my chair.
I thought that I was resolute
In letting sand stay there.

Yet somehow some has trickled home,
Still clinging where it stuck;
And so I wrote this little poem
To prove that I’ve got pluck…

For every grain of sand that sticks
Just makes me take a vow
That next time, there’ll be no last licks;
I’ll leave that sand somehow.

The answer, though, is pretty clear
And right within my reach – 
To make the sand all disappear,
I must avoid the beach!


Details | Free verse | |

The Climb

The Climb
Up and up we
Climb up the spiral
Staircase.

Each step you take
You curse my
Namesake

Each step I take
Each Moment
I wish someone
Else could
Take my place

When we get
To the top
Look out
At the vista

Watching the ocean
Lick the sugar sand
Coastline

Nothing but
Peace is
On your face.

Climbing the
Lighthouse Was
Not a waste.


Details | Free verse | |

AtOneNess

The breeze in the trees tease the ears to believe that the sea sings its hushed song overhead, manifesting as a soft lullaby, your eyes get heavy, as you approach the hinterland of Mind. Two rivers converge, and visions emerge, you have reached the confluence of dreams and verity. Streaming consciousness freshly unbound from Duality. All Become’s One, when to the Garden you return. The idyllic place where beginnings and endings are the same, welcome back to this place where Form still exists yet in the absence of Name...                                                   


Details | Cowboy | |

In the Hills of South Dakota

In the cold and rolling hills of a barren South Dakota,
On bleak and uncaring reservations of the Lakota,
Live both the ancient and the young of a once proud native race—
Living with America, whiskey and a fall from His grace.

We now bring contributions of food and clothes on Christmas Eve—
Given by those who know their plight as we smile and slowly leave.
Over a hundred years now and their progress still seems too slow—
A once noble people clinging to a past they’ll never know.

And what is the price of progress when we conquered the Old West
And took the proud Indian down a trail that we thought was best?
And what of free range, a way of life – the country we stood for?
We hid it on reservations so it would haunt us no more.

So we ride past reservations – think that we have done our best,
As time erases memories of a people and the West—
Once a year we sooth our egos and add money to the pot,
Hoping time heals miseries and we can keep what we have got. 

In the cold and rolling hills of a barren South Dakota,
On bleak and uncaring reservations of the Lakota,
Live both the ancient and the young of a once proud native race—
Living with America, whiskey and a fall from His grace.  


Details | Narrative | |

A visit in Munich, Germany

What a sight to behold! A home to immigrants,
a spectacular city rolled with a wealth of arts!
predominantly Catholic with its many facets
its historical resonance and genesis of existence.

While it’s a welcome contrast from other countries,
there’s evidence that it’s replete with triumph and fall;
just after Bolzano, Trento, Rovereto, Verona Porta Nuova, 
Peschiera del Garda, Desenzano della Garda-Sirminione and Brescia.

That from Milan Central Station the train arrives in Monaco.
Indeed, I was so impressed to see the main city
its combined history and culture; a satisfaction
just on the horizons they gave me an enormous impression
to the so-called civilization that München defines its soul.

Churches can be found almost in every corner
with their baroque or lavish rococo architecture, 
some artifacts and gothic designs in some parts
in the eye of the beholder, they’re indeed a treasure.

People from all walks of life converge at the epicentre
the bustling footpaths, crowded shops and restaurants
with families from Dubai, Abu Dhabi and Pakistan
Asians or other Europeans in common desire
this place holds a promise for future and families.

Germans in general, love to drink and hang out with friends
a place like Hofbräuhaus where huge crowds can be found
a good description, the best picture to recall.
Deutsch, the language spoken but difficult to learn
gave me an impression of its beauty in articulation.
With their conventional greetings like in many other cultures
respect is the by-word along with courtesy and reason.
like the Olympic Park, Marienplatz, Nymphenburg palace, 
English Garden, Königsplatz and many other sights
They’re beautiful places steeped with history and connection
to the people of München who love their own culture.

I may not be keen about other European cuisines
however, as  a person drawn to taste them all
with a sweet tooth I couldn’t resist a typical German version
of the American pancake served in the morning
kaiserschman, its name and it’s common to all.


Details | Cowboy | |

Rodeo Blues

Riding against the wind, merciless memories nipping at her heels
wearing a Pollyanna mask & a ready laugh to hide the hurt she feels
The stinging words she heard that day hammer her heart like driving rain
she sips thunder & lightning from a bottle  but she can’t escape the pain

Rodeo has held her in its spell for all of her nineteen years
Its taught her to make friends with danger & never shrink from fear
Gave her a healthy respect for a life well lived & showed her its rewards
She’s better off for the lessons learned in the back chutes & stockyards

She thought she was well prepared for any hand that Rodeo dealt
Until that fateful phone call, a worse pain she’s never felt
She’d given her heart to a wild Bullrider, a good man through & through
Family, friend or stranger, he gave the best to all he knew

Around midnight the night before, he’d left for an exhibition ride
one last promise to fulfill before starting a new life with his bride
she’d spoke to him early that morning, a quick “I love you” & “Good Luck”
By quarter past ten he was in the chute, shouting “throw the gate & let ‘em buck”

Three jumps & a crazy eight twist, the rigging split with a sickening snap
In seconds his life ended, silence roared through the arena like a thunderclap
The phone was ringing back in Tucson as she pulled up to the house
The caller spoke in monotone igniting a fire never to be doused

She still love’s the Rodeo, still answer its bittersweet call
and she keeps his rigging bag in the closet down the hall
She grew up quick in an eight second flash & paid her Rodeo dues
Now she’s riding hard against the wind & singing the Rodeo Blues

(c) August 2003



Details | I do not know? | |

High School

Ah, that smell of bread from Home Ec.,
Just can't be real to me,
Because school just seems to be a part of everyone's misery,
But then I realize
The bread from there is as real as a bakery's.
And when I'm with my friend,
The fun of bugging her in the hallways
Never seems to end.

Then I take one more look at what school is like,
I begin to admit to myself
That it's not so bad,
But when my mother gets mat at me
About homework
I stress about how hard it all seems
And think that my teachers are all jerks.
But I always finish it off in the end,
And then the whole cycle goes around again.
The truth is, I always change my mind and say
My teachers are so nice that I could consider them friends,
Sometimes I only pretend to like them.

But what's worse then teachers
Is how I see people smoke
And hear their choices about drinking and parties.
I stare at them and think, "They're gonna be really ugly..."
'Cause I'll never give into peer pressure,
Because my only pleasures are a lot better.

High school is such a big thing,
That when the bell rings
A rush of students go up and down the stairs.
Once you get to class,
Sems like the assignment you get is a pain in the ass,
And it feels like the day will never end,
Especially if you don't have a friend.

I always want to sleep-in, but when I wake up
I think school is so lame,
And sometimes I sleep through the whole day.
And when the sky is grey,
It always seems to be trying to say
That there should be no sun rays on a day at school.
But then, I think through it again and believe that there will
Always be good and bad things in whatever life will bring.


Details | Free verse | |

Walking In Graceland

I'm moving up to graceland
you know that mansion over the hilltop
to have just a little talk with jesus
for I don't knock upon his doors
for I know the gates swing open
how great thou art
that we're blessed
in the wonderful grace of jesus
for it's written in red
as I was made a christian
and saw the light while
strolling down beulual lane
out in the sunshine
dear father in heaven
we all can do good
something beautiful
even a whispering hope
sitting down by the old rugged cross
take my hand
precious lord
don't leave me crying in the chapel
move me to your higher ground
crossing the river of jordan
fill my cup lord
to let me rise again
for without you I haven't got a prayer
so please take me as I am jesus
for I'll remain tried and true
for I know there's somebody bigger than you or I
in this wonderment of thy amazing grace


Tribute To 
The Father 
Son 
And 
Holy Spirit
{Amen}


Also My Next Gospel Song   LOL

Song Is Complete Now
If You Would Like to Hear It
Please Drop Me Your Email Addy
And Will Send It To You For Easy
Listening Thanks All


Details | I do not know? | |

Emergence

The sky beckons me open these eyes and we do
The owl and I
We turn our gaze unblinking to the sky,
The heavens above and together we see
We see as two the clouds are touched with cerise,
Sighing into deeper hues until they merge
Merge with the water drained cerulean tiredness of those many underbellies as if
As if the fresh colour can soothe the storm resting within.

The skies breathe down cool air, crisp . . . and clear
It touches everything
With something more than just life,
Carries with it the promise of tomorrow,
The foreshadowing of nature’s style awakening after the long winter’s cooling embrace.

As if she can barely contain her urge to scream
Scream out in freedom
As if she can barely contain her cries of stretching

Stretching out toes and fingers
Revelling in the these her first movements that bring

Bring forth the blooming promise
Whispered in the sky of summer’s raining sheaths of tresses caressing

Caressing this hungry earth.
With all the tired souls falling rapt by the newly forgotten tears

Tears still lingering in the lightly licking touches of grass yawning from sleep.
Yawning from sleep.
Beneath the timid warmth of our stretched out toes
When our souls are tickled

Tickled by the dew dropped eyelashes of the earth.

And . . .

And as always the moonset vanishes for this first kiss is only false
One like the first rays of dusk across the night swept sky and lands lingering
Lingering beneath the moon’s subtle glow,
That false dawn with all its memories intact of yesteryear.

Where once walked the souls of children undreamed
When we were young in the expanse of this our home
When the dirt beneath our bare feet was still untouched by time

And this

This is what I see in the sighing

Sighing of the midnight star.


Details | Free verse | |

Dog Trottin' My Song

Carryin’ a pad, walkin’ along
Rapped in mother’s east sun
The Elcalda’s bell dancin’ an incense memory
On a watery mirrored titillation

Mind paintin’ a peasant
Lime green on brown bench
Blacklegged
A bag of burnt red

Lawn sprinkler pantin’
The beat
Over left shoulder

He sits
Isolated
Center of three unknown brothers
In still homage to their caste

Burst
A rippling of children
Cascades to pool’s brim
Form clusters of clicks
Bands
Friends and paddy cake
Loners’ hangout

Make one line
Ebb away
Teachers command order
Gum swallowed
They dissolve in the mouth
Of a science center

Jog passin’ grandfather
Questions
Recordin’ the scene
(In thick Yiddish accent)
“Taking Inventory?”
Establishes a reason for being 


Details | I do not know? | |

Our House

Empty halls
staircase silent
without a painting or portrait
To enliven the solitary walls
A house without occupant
Voices not heard
Gables and pointed peaks
not welcome for any lonesome bird
It was built from long ago hands
Several generation before
Antiquated WELCOME ALL YE sign
posted on the century door

Somehow,
during the present age
It became unoccupied(or devoid of)
The absence of conversation
A Milieu,filled with family and welcomers
Laughter of the little children
Mother 
Father
who have left this house(or aboad)
A sad reminder of Yesterday that is gone

Everything is silent around
The plaster and cement
Not a Memory(or a house member)to befound
Once surrounded with pride and hope
Momentos of treasures that emcompassed a spectrum scope

The house asks herself this:
WHERE ARE THE FAMILY THAT PLAYED ALONG WITH ME-
-LIVING AS ONE THROUGHOUT SPRING'S ETERNITY?
Patiently quiet and somber through the day
A last echo outstretched,
quickly fading away

This standing foundation
A once lived-in urban dwelling
breathes no more
No one is around any longer
to hear
feel
Embrace the briefest air
which,sad to say..
has evaporated today

Every now and then
I drive down to Boston suburbia
and gaze every so often
at my birth place now at rest

OUR HOUSE


Details | Imagism | |

Meeting

In a crowd where theirs always an
                       empty chair,
                        we gather.
All of us feel apart from,
                                  dissected,
                                     alone.
                       We've been rejected.

For quite some time,             I sat.
Reflecting hurt and secrets
                                 still
locked behind stone walls,
                                                     yet.
                      The only one
(well really a fabrication I chose to
believe  who remotely mattered , . . .
                                            . . .me.)
                          And
all I was able to see were two huge eyes
                       full of anguish

                                 A
                              Soul
                             oozing
nothing but grief and despair,             all of me,
                                                                  myself,
                                                                 and my 
         E     M     P     T     Y     N     E     S     S
                                                                exposed.


Details | Free verse | |

BE FREE, FEEL YOUNG AND LIVE LONGER

Money and fame are sought with greed and desire;
and a desperate soul is willing to give all that it has gotten
for that golden moment to hear the praises bestowed upon...


Be free, feel younger and live longer, discard the obsessive impulses of want;
your jewelry,your wardrobe, and the noticeable looks of false happiness...
look around yourself, why do the common people have more fun and love themselves?  


And the riches can offer anything, a villa overlooking glamorous Hollywood,
or even allow you to purchase a palace, where Kings and Queens dwelled in solitude;
when each need is fulfilled, your possessions become a burden, rather than a relief...  


"Be free, feel young and live longer," is a wish for great news to come;
happier days without monotony, to soak up the warmest sunshine on an exotic island,
jubilantly open your window on life, to admire and love what you never thought of...     


Why worry about thieves and even close friends you can't trust,
works of arts must be hidden in volts with unusual combinations;
you go to bed worry-stricken, and rise with a malcontent sentiment too intense...  


Be free, feel young and live longer, and into your fate's absurd demands don't give in;
indulge in the simplest pleasures that make life less stressful, nonetheless more livable,
wealth relies on fortune for abundance, but not on the strength of your-inner-self...



Details | Bio | |

Morning In London

Aprils mist…
Easy flowing of mornings gift
Bearing the tidings of baker and fisherman
The phantom fog rolling onward 
With melancholy gray tendrils reaching
Into the ancient alleyways of Tower Hamlet
Over the roof of great Westminster Abbey
Seizing the city in its siege of silence
Here I walk…
Enraptured in its placidity
Balancing upon the edges of grief and delight
While Big Ben echoes the hour 
And the gulls cry out from Canary Wharf
I walk the streets of my ancestors’ city
Traversing through fog of centuries past
Waiting for its hand to envelop me
For a moment I am home...


Details | I do not know? | |

Island Away(PARADISE TODAY!)

Island of the sea
Drifter among the wave
He left civilization,you see
They could not make him sit and behave
Fertile imagination was and never will be accepted
And so,
he cast off on the ocean blue 
to find a spot without troubles,too
Seeking peace and serenity from troubled Life
A deserted paradise beyond cities tall
Breaking free of Cement and those impenetrable skyline wall
Living for just me
Sleeping on a wave..PLEASE! just let me be
This gentle man has had enough of the concrete
His NO MAN'S isle is just for him and his lonely feet
I can take it any day of the week
Without voices but silent
with only God's voice that dares to speak


Details | Rhyme | |

Serpent Road

The more popular path is a wider,
more windy one. A bend here,a 
nook there, surreal images to entice 
everyone.And it's all about havin' so much fun.

You weave through a forest of barren trees,
having already dropped all of their leaves.
More muted colors now, these listless leaves,
as they lay scattered all over the ground.
During one stretch, a beautiful babbling
brook calls softly to all who will listen, 
a temptuous melodic chant seems to resound.
"Come play in me..... no, better yet, stay in me.
I am yours and you are mine. At the very least, 
abide for a time."......is it's echoing rhyme.

Around one huge curve on this path, one can't
help but notice an extremely tall waterfall.It's 
splendor captures the undivided attention of
nearly all. Chrystal clear liquid cascades,
tumbling and rumbling downward over smooth,
cavernous rocks till its final resting place in a
glassy pool,this entire realm it does mock.

One very unique trait of this seemingly joyous
journey is the absence of light. Nothing reflects
much sun,it's almost like wandering along on a 
half - moon lit night. Oh,if the star of fire would
ever reveal itself,come out of hiding, this beautiful
bounty could be so brilliant and bright. Yet here
in this place, it wouldn't seem right. It would cause
alarm, reason for many to get stagefright. Some
might even want to exit but would not be able....
try as they might.

I could ramble on and on about the abundant 
sights and smells and sounds that tickle our
senses along Path Pleasing. Is this place
for real or is everyone just dreaming? But one
thing I must tell you that is important for you to
know.This expedition isn't all it's cracked up to be,
for it is in dizzying circles you do go.You just experience
the same things over and over again, guess that's part
of the plan.No real purpose or rhyme, just biding time.

Oh,.... what's this? Maybe I am wrong. Seems that
there is a final destination for those hangin' here.I've 
not witnessed this before.I'll have to tell the others
what's in store.But wait....... there must be some mistake.
For the sign over the gaping, belching, black hole
simply states "Lair of the Snake."


Details | I do not know? | |

Day at the Diner

Clouds of grey smoke rising in the air like rain clouds and many random people grazing 
noisily,
an endless mug of coffee grasped in my relaxed hand with a pink sugar packet poured to 
sweeten,
the scrungy waiters taking orders while the infinite chatter of a group of close friends 
continues,
the grey smoke reeks on my clothes as well as the roaming smell of fried food,
drinking bitter-sweet coffee although I've had ten cups with the taste of a friends meal 
I selfishly helped myself to


Details | Epic | |

Paradiami

I once stood alongside two Eagles pure graded in breast plated armor.
The one to my left I set free to love my innocent little white doves.
And the one to my right I dared to never leave my sight with little ole Pallor.
I left to spread the Eagle’s wings of merit soaring from far away and up above.

My Four horsemen flew on chariot wings with my four Golden Cups of Charis.
I stood up on the clouds and organized my Swordsey’s divine little palace.
The rainbows were blossoming around thrones of my precious manipulating Chaos.
I took two wings from the Eagle’s nest and kept them from falling completely off.
Then there was my balancing Scaler, behind his little trot there’s this forget me not.

I went further down and made myself quite the Amazing little conductor.
To the left of that shall be the Shadows of Webber’s with his dynamic dual detector.
To the right of this shall be the Beamers to Visor’s ultimate fine tuned selector.
Then I shall weld my shields for Justice with Timers s incredible invincible reflectors.
In the center of all of this my Blotcher’s shall send Dejavu’s to my blinding receptors. 

When my signals blare I’ll see Sweeper with Creeper and Snickers all on one perfect flight.
That’s when I will look up to the one to my left and the one to my right.
Then the Stars will gleam and flicker as I shatter both you Eagle’s with my true light.
Then you Eagles will know Paradiami is soul mated to love’s faithful glorious might!
 


Details | Free verse | |

Blue Glass Thoughts

In her velvet pocket,
moth holes and blue glass chips
picked in hysteria, 
off the side of a historic building down town
She fingers them in secret,
as she walks barefoot
in the patch of urban grass
known as a park
Dandelions and sugar sparks
for thoughts.
She wears this smoking jacket
and no shoes
when she needs to do her hardest thinking-
Major life decisions for the human dynamo.

Should I move down town to a smaller flat?
Will I marry the guy I saw on the subway yesterday-
the one with a first edition "Out of Africa" in his hands?
If I married him, would we move to Africa?
Would I wear turquoise that simply dulled my skin
when compared to the native's richness in onyx?

With these thoughts in her whirl wind mind
she paces.
A caged lioness with sky scraped walls
under a rectangle patch of sun that manages
to squeeze through the buildings.
Her smoking jacket is from her late uncle.
Her character, from her trek through two divorces
and a particularly bad batch of steamed clams
And her feet - they are from her mother
and have carried her in the right direction every time
She picks two dandelions and puts them in a velvet
button hole to tickle her chin.
She comes to numerous conclusions in a wink,
and decides to skip the subway and barefoot it home -
leaving a trail of blue glass thoughts along the way...


Details | Narrative | |

train

North bound train
Canadian land
Byways and the valleys
a time in quiet that may be found
Treasures of the Forest
Cars on a busy stretch,this afternoon
Later in the evening
I'll gaze upon the old man of the moon
A tourist touring
The splendor of Province country
The conductor is pointing out scenic spots
Still riding the rails
in Summer's time of Thunderstorm hails
Be as it may
I'll return to Boston somehow
some day
The children will be grown
nieces and nephew shake this hand
Knowing forever,
their favorite storyteller is now home


Details | List | |

My Memories

Take a ride within my mind,

It took a lot to make this:

7 close friends,

2 caring parents,

12 years of schooling,

1 loving dog,

5 years of mental illness,

1 video camera,

19 years of life.

Never forgotten, always implanted,
 
Within my memories.


Details | Lyric | |

In Thy Father's House

come on come on get up
it will be worth it
for there is a King in you
in this spiritual love
the love of confession

in thy Father's house
in thy Father's house

come on come on high lift Him
cry no more
for Jesus is love
through the power of Christ
hail to the word of power
the power in thy house

in thy Father's house
in thy Father's house

come on come on I'm ready
bring in the noise
for it sounds so beautiful

come on come on let's dance
dance to His grace
for there's no one better then you
in the sanctuary

in thy Father's house
in thy Father's house


Details | Lyric | |

Shapeless Man

The day will purge my darkest lies
Awake in myself, but asleep inside
The sun reflecting empty eyes
Igniting lost places within my mind

The night will never hold me still
Buzzing dark places that can not kill
The spiral of this endless pain
The spirit of darkness will rise again

The light reshapes what I’ve become
The shadows are torn as I’m undone
My body cold beneath those flames
No mercy for me; I have no name

More darkness crawling up my skin
The memories call, like burning sin
One word to rise in to the knight
A whisper of hate and I will fight

Again the sun is stealing sight
I will never sleep within this light
There’s such little truth for what I am
Constantly torn: the shapeless man


Details | Sonnet | |

The Note

I was corner-stoned by many of you.
The note was dotted with a dash.
But this note was an ultimate smash.
I found a peephole and peeped through.
 
I found a bird gave him the note and away he flew,
Across the deserts and the valleys he was there in a flash,
Across the rivers and Oceans he made a great big splash.
He made it to the shore, but the note he began to chew.
 
He passed a timely test,
And his belly was full,
He did not stop to rest,
The note he had to pull.
 
The bird landed on the Oceans shore,
Singing praises of his rugged chore.


Details | Rhyme | |

The City's Wild

There, in a place, where air is sparse, 
     Smoke is thick, and light is scarce, 
Scattered colors that flash and shock
     Lend but little visibility in the dark.
The door up front the large man protects
     Is where the last of conscience is left, 
So what’s taken in are intentions lacked
     Of morals; flesh is the absolute want.
With luscious lies, favors are gained, 
     And shows of affection realistically feigned
Through silken touch and tight embrace, 
     And minimal dresses of satin or lace.
Ladies and gentlemen both lose inhibitions, 
     Civility’s neglected with reckless abandon; 
Sensual cravings are satisfied
     When Love’s a commodity—

          —that can be bought at a price.


Details | Free verse | |

Preperation D-day

Tornado drills, like a fire drill
people practicing what to do in certain emergencies
The weather man predicts this
the newscrew the first response
to lead as many people possible to safety
a selfless act leaving you a hero to your child
in a society where we suffer racism
you never know what stereotype you would end up with
and together you would save eachother's lives
after the drill come home and everyone go for supper
in the end the newsroom will be able to flip a switch
that can sound off alarms all over your city or town
and those in any leadership position should be prepared to save lives

Airports with enough parachutes
under every seat
every passenger on the plane
knows how to use them
every worker on board a certified sky diver
inflatable rafts and supplies to jump with
just so you can feel safe flying
too much relies on the pilot
who has no way to save their lives
if all else fails
a sick game of finding the black box
when that being the only communication device
to find the whereabouts of the survivors
one jumper takes your waterproof radar
hidden under one of the seats
if the time to rely on it ever comes
a back up method of communication devised

Churches organized per sunday
where you will exercise, write your own part of the bible, sing, dance, and eat

fighting over these history books may have occured
but the weather patterns will reveal the safest places to live in the world
with a brand new pair of shoes for the world
we will lead those living in extremely dangerous places to a safer environment


Details | Senryu | |

Unsettled

soldiers in the desert
poised with weapons at bay.
tanks butcher the sand.


Details | Blank verse | |

A Trinket's Wish

A porcelain lady beams proudly -
    a crack across her painted face.
Boxes from a musty attic open wide 
   to smell the freshest air -
      Within, the tiny trinkets of a childhood memory.
Faded jewellery arranged in a whimsical fashion
   Tarnished by the years of neglect dazzle new eyes
      On a purple velvet sheet.
Books with cracked bindings all subjects of
   Yesteryear and old recipe books.
Outlived clothes and odd shoes
   Well out grown and packed away 
      Now sit in the morning sunlight -
Waiting patiently to be loved again -
Just beyond the yard sale.


Details | Ballad | |

Kings and Queens

Sun dappled shadows
Reflecting spirit’s form
Moss covered standing stones
From afternoon still warm
The kings and queens of yesterday
Yet hold the evensong
Prayers for peace prosperity
A right for every wrong
With every war that has been fought
Upon these sacred grounds
Run fast the blood of future lives
And yet the drum deep sounds
Calling soul to hold a place
Upon the earth still fair
Stay the sword for truce by might
Lends your grace to bear
A heart that bleeds for all life held
Within the hands of fate
Behold the truth where patterns meld
And time she runs too late
The past and future meet as one
Where power thickens still
And stately folk are seen at night
Still gathered on high hill.


Details | Narrative | |

Road trip

A number of times have I got lost,
trying to follow the direction of my destination;
with my map guide that serves me right,
to trace the streets and exits to make.

It’s a kind of familiarity with the place,
through navigation in the pipeline and outdoor;
goes evidently as the result of what it means,
to be on the road and be glued to one’s destination.

A passel of drivers speeds in the express highway
others drive like snakes along the way
with hardly considerations to those who drive behind them;
It’s lack of courtesy and insensitivity to those who care for safety.

Changing lanes in a safe way to do it,
accelerating in a normal speed required;
these are ways that a driver can make,
as he drives freely with caution and courtesy.

There are times when roads exhibit traffic congestion,
especially when it rains and everybody has to be careful;
flooded roads cause delays and commotion,
anger and irritation, impatience and exhaustion.

My own experience while on my way,
to pick up somebody in the airport –
like in JF Kennedy, Newark or La Guardia;
there’s always a need to allow a space 
to wait as flights may be delayed.

With a sense of humor this is gonna be of help
to someone who may be caught up with regret;
While on the way it’s a question of being careful,
focused and attentive to the signs of the road.


Details | Light Poetry | |

REJECTION

Rejection is a bitter pill to swallow but an easier path to to follow dowm a lonely 
dark road. A road that the heart did not deserve, a heart that would easily serve  to 
every curve, groove or bump in the road. The bump in the road can build but 
instead it killed the burden beast.

The burden beast has gone east in search for some ease. Ease please,the this 
aching heart of mine. Relieve this pain and soothe the tormented mind.

Rejection is not the path that is not the less traveled ; but a road that many will 
travel, a road that will be travel again and again.

Will this pain ever end and will I ever win on th a road less traveled?


Details | Free verse | |

Just No Longer There

told himself a little love won't hurt, 
   but he found out it can hurt like hell;
      felt they were together just a few days, 
         but seemed now like a lifetime as well;

needed her  at his breakfast table
   just as she  needed him, too, at hers;
      but they had to live on opposite sides 
         of the globe, kept far apart by the years;

at times they couldn't get enough 
   of each other; other times, just a bit
      seemed uncomfortably too much;
         something precious, they had lost it.



Details | Rhyme | |

Where Jesus Is Is Where I Want To Be



Where Jesus Is… Is Where I Want To Be! Where Jesus is… Is where I want to be! He is the one I want to be with…. For eternity! Where Jesus lives… I want to be in my heart! I want him living in me, till one day I shall “depart.” Where Jesus leads… I want to be in this place! I want to be led by his tender mercy and grace! What Jesus does… I know will be what’s best! As long as I trust him… I shall be blessed! What Jesus says to me…. I want to surely listen! Anything he has for me… I don’t want to be missin’! What Jesus wants me to do… I want to do it! He’s given me many opportunities… But “I blew it!” What Jesus wants to give to me… I want to receive it! He promises to always be with me! I believe it! Whatever I have… I give to Jesus my king. He’s my righteousness. He’s my everything! Wherever I may end up in this life I call “my own.” I pray that one day shall be in God’s eternal home! By Jim Pemberton


Details | Free verse | |

My First Love - Dedicated to Muhammed Munn

Junior High
A lifetime ago
I made your acquaintance
Seasons changed 
Transitioning from a naive
Child into a curious adolescent
Experiencing love for the first time
Like a Butterfly
We spread our wings
Flying hand in hand
Taking a blissful journey together
To an unexplored territory

Your lips were the first to kiss mine
I gave you my innocence
Making love to you
I felt euphoric and jubilant
When I was in your loving embrace
We had something special
We shared a bond
I understood your pain
You understood mine
But, you couldn't always
Handle the demons inside me
And I couldn't tame yours

But, I felt the bitter sting of your lies
Your deception sent me into hysterics
When she entered your arena
Nothing was ever the same again
Our love evaporated
Like it never existed
Your heart abadoned me
She received the rose
That I always cherished
You kept both of our hearts
For such a long time
But, in the end she won
Even then I would not
Live my life without you
You remained in my life
As a friend or a lover
But, you never fell back
In love with me

I locked myself inside
A terrifying, darkened 
Abyss that I created
I cried so many tears
I displayed so many
Bouts of rage
You were my everything
I thought I would die
Without your love
Nothing that anyone could 
Have ever told me could 
Have ever make me believe 
That I would ever let you go
I was so young and foolish then
Healing will occur when you
Let go of the anger and the pain
Eventually I was able to
Time healed my aching wounds
Love found me again 
My love for you 
Transformed into just
A memory from my past

Reminiscing about distant memories
Triggered thoughts of my first love
Though no romantic feelings 
Exist in my heart for you
There is a small piece of
My heart that cherishes
What was once between us
Even though I cried an ocean
Of tears when you broke my heart
I would never trade what we had
I have no regrets
I think I am a better person today
For having known you

From time to time
I think about you and
I wonder how you are
If you are lonely
If you are sad
If you are safe
If you are loved
If you have a family
If you are happy
I will always remember you 
I will treasure our memories forever




Details | I do not know? | |

Hometown

The only thing that still remains
Are memories and family names
Of girls you loved; the guys; your friends
These are the things that have no ends

The houses grew smaller
The neighbor kids taller
And parents of friends have all passed
Downtown’s now deserted
The populous herded
Out to the suburbs en masse

And that dark lovers’ lane
Where you parked in the rain
And fumbled you way to third base
Is a wide thoroughfare
And there now houses there
So for romance there’s simply no place

The edge of town Drive-in
Where dreams came alive in
There now stands a faded strip mall
Yes, the town where you grew up
Has just thrown their hands up
And decided to hell with it all

With the economy tanking
Where you once did your banking
Is boarded up; soon to come down
There’s not that much left
If seems like Grand Theft
What’s been done to your stately hometown

The only thing that still remains
Are memories and family names
Of girls you loved; the guys; your friends
These are the things that have no ends


Details | I do not know? | |

Control yourself

Moving faster, your hands are touching me everywhere and I just want you to do things to 
me that I ain't never seen. Oh baby don't stop, I feel my clothes jumping off it's like a 
maragoround and i'm screaming control yourself. Oh baby your kissing me, got me on my 
knees shouting baby please slow down your moving too fast. You know just what buttons to 
push on me, you know what makes my body weak. One touch and I get really stupid, Oh don't 
you know what your doing to me? Control yourself I try to tell my body but it's no help 
boy you got me excited and I can't stop not until i'm finished what you already got me 
started. I want this so bad, hopefully my mom won't find out. With that thought I push 
you off I thought I had more self control. Oh but you smell so good. I know you would do 
my body good like milk.I smile and hop off but I know all the while, your watching me 
walking away whispering this isn't over.


Details | I do not know? | |

Rest

Still my soul finds rest
At the cross placed on the hill
The place of the skull


Details | Lyric | |

DREAMS

In
the eye
of the storm-
an oasis of
calm-
night
music
bathes my soul-
strong emotions
sleep.


Details | Free verse | |

Mirror

In Opposite World
Where a human prove to be bold
Lies a reflection
Of magic and perfection

Love and Hate
Yin and Yang
Light. And Dark
The story to be told

An Image in the glass
Iimitating himself
for better or worse
and no remorse

Mirror Mirror on the wall
Whose the fariest of them all
Mirror








Details | I do not know? | |

Crossing

Holding dear to my heart 
As I fell to toward ground
I could see my knees crashing
But could not hear the sound...

Could it be I was passing
Like the time on the clock
As I felt myself grasping
Stuck between tick and tock...

My vision once certain
Now slanted and sideways
Seems to reflect like white curtains
While it projects all my past days...

Every dream every memory
Any actions mistaken
And any path on my behalf
To any roads I've not taken...

In an instant its over	
As I drip from this faucet
Taking fill in the river
So that others may cross it...


Details | Personification | |

The Trainer

The Trainer is skilled and knowledge is way too real.
Precision is marked and the course plainly lain out.
The trainer is everything and has no room for doubt.
Our lessons are here in which we share what we feel.
We’re certified by gold appeal to His right thumb seal.

Our perfection with His direction is a challenge we must all meet.
Teaching or lectures the trainer’s word sits upon a cozy high seat.
The Trainer is the one, teaching us why we have all come to care.

Articulate in balancing those massive scales, 
He is making us ready for His truth or dare.
Slowly but surely He removes all of our veils.

Testing and provoking the thoughts that we all must greatly compare,
The Trainer is detained and responsible to the reality we all shall bare.
So listen here and listen there, eventually fame is no more good or fun.
The Trainer teaches us that it is our principles to be all by being one.

The Trainer is well thought out even if the job comes undone.
The Trainer is my heir I bare for global defeat fair and square!


Details | I do not know? | |

The Louisiana Lantern

There’s A Lantern in The Window of A Louisiana Mill
There’s A Lantern in The Window, ‘cause All The Water, Spilled
Into Basements and Stories of Houses on That Road
And People Rushed Up Here, in the Power Overload

There’s a Lantern in The Window, of A Louisiana Mill
It’s the only Glow out there… Shining from a Muddy Hill
It’s Shining down on People, Passing by in Crowded Boats
It’s Showing all the Cars and Trucks, Stuck or Afloat…

It’s Showing All the Neighbors, Hanging on Their Roofs and Try
To Hold and Calm the Kids; Waiting for Helicopter to Come By
It Showed Us, Little’ Janie and Her Rag-Doll, Didn’t Make It…
Lord Have Mercy… It Showed, Her Mama Couldn’t Take It ! ….

Now, The Lantern’s Blinking so Much… Like It Just May Go Out
‘Cause It don’t want to show Another Body, Laying About !
… It Faintly Flickered … the Resumed with All Its Might
… Looked at Our Hopeful Faces and Tried to Give Us Some Light

There’s A Lantern in The Window, of A Louisiana Mill
We’ve got to keep It Lit… and Believe that It Will
Show Us The Reason, Why We Must Go On …
… like That Louisiana Lantern, In The Window … Burning Strong


Details | Narrative | |

The Visions Blend

Sitting all alone in deep thought, I am a world away.
No Sun, no Stars, and no wind!
My mouth can not speak the words there are to say.
The visions blend carries me to where it never ends.
My God I am here and I demand to stay!
I am here, but gone to where I begin.
Nights and days have come and gone and are now decades away.
No life, no air, and no death!
My God I am alive and dead on this very day.
I am gone, but here with my journey’s quest.
The gift of life is mine as I catch my last breath.
My heart can not hold the words there are to say.
Looking deep into this world where I have come to stay,
No love, no hate, and no sin!
The visions blend carries me to where it all ends.
I am here, but gone to where I begin.
My eyes can see the words there are to say.
My God I am gone and I demand to stay.
Time and time my thoughts have traveled my days,
No time, no light, and no pretend!
The gift of life is mine all over once again.
My God I am dead but alive on this very day.
My ears can not hear the words there are to say.
I am gone, but here absorbing the visions blend.

®Registered: Ann Rich 1997


Details | Cowboy | |

Dirt Road

     The traffic flies by
At a fast-paced clip
They say on a warm day
It's a nice little trip
The county came in
And smoothed out the road
Past the porch where we sat
And learned of "The Code"

     In my mind I still see him
Though he is long gone
And I still hear the words
To his old Cowboy songs
He spoke of the cow trails
And called them by name
Said the dust all around us
Was one and the same.

     He told us the stories
Of the days that were past
We looked to the future
Swore we'd make them last
We rode our stick ponies
And we rounded up strays
And we knew we'd be Cowboys
For all of our days.

     The buildings stand empty
A testimony to time
But they're filled with the dreams
That I still call mine
You can blacktop a road
But they will always be there
Those dust covered memories
That hang in the air.

     They've paved the dirt road
That rolls by the farm
Where we laughed and played Cowboy
In the fields and the barn
And we learned where we came from
And who we could be
And the dust of that dirt road
Is still part of me.


Details | Lyric | |

Perceptions

Perceptions By Taalib Brown


My New York lens is covered in grime
A filth large enough to receive a fine and pass the city dumping line.
Pedestrians are rushing and racing to their cubby holes.
Trees leak a yellow-greenish sap the way sewers leak when overflowed.
Dogs barking boldly and their masters will not admonish.

These people look like untimely rainbows;
Colors brighten and diminish the urban shine.
Concrete worry-filled both cold and hot—
It makes an interesting combination.
Musky, stale air fills this subway station 
stacked with the second class,
Sprinkled with the first.

These windows shift from clean to dirty to water-stained
Whether in high altitude or on an underground train,
My windows are covered in stains.
They fog up like hot breath hit them and then remained.

Through my windows I see the hustle,
Fast cash changes hands,
Poor people where slave muzzles,
and color is more of a cover.

Pick up the man holes and let out the men.
Their homes are built from sticks—
Not bricks.
I feel like I’m a giant looking down from where I sit.

Too bad this view won’t last,
New York changes with every minute passed.


Details | I do not know? | |

In A State of Immense Boredom

A deep hunger rests over my soul 
as I look to the bridge I see a towering troll
falling, falling, into this crack
deep darkness, happiness I lack

Longing for a breif scene of play
wantingto lounge in that hay
forever wanting whats out of reach
rather be drinking bleach

Oh, my heart, my soul
my life, my role
Gone! It slips away
all the people shout horray

They all want to destroy me 
break me down, I forget to be
Existance transcends all time and space
As if im competing in a race

Forget and forgive, thats what they say
fight and destroy, thats how they play
Hypocrites, pessimests, no longer missed
I run away, blindly, into the mist

No, yes, indecision, its a jest
forever with life being a test
I can't take this mess
I don't want to feel less

But I must they make me
Destroy the tree!
they shout at thee
No longer to be.

GONE! Dissappear
Into my head, I reappear
Forever to stay
locked in this way.....


Details | Free verse | |

from granite to sand

i see the city from a high drift
all those shimmering lights
somewhere out in that sea of halogen and high wattage
you exist
i have an idea where 
but i'm not certain
the man-made horizon seems to shift
like a lazy breeze
sauntering through it
the mitochondria in my neurons
seem to sway with this motion
malfunctioning just a bit
as i feel your essence
but i am lost 
and am but a mere cipher
on my lofty perch
a ghost swirling about in the air
ephemeral wisps caught 
in the spines of the cacti
as i
look  for hallowed grounds

should i go and excavate
the sidewalks that are traversed by the dead
in search of the occasional light 
that shines from the eyes
of a  cognate soul
or
should i go home 
and lament over all the love lost
twisted over some fantasy of eternal
unquestioning love

the wind pushes
so now i'll just go where the metal box
with an accelerator and a steering wheel
takes me


Details | Free verse | |

Is there somebody out there?

is anybody out there?
talking to genies
with the perfect three wishes for the world
where we don't hold up some bodies
dead bay?
Is there someone haunting you hunting nets
with you need therapy?
can you sing this
horrible blasphemy and not feel
like you are crawling
through the tunes of dishonesty
can you hear the sway or am i still falling?

I'm not getting any closer talking in circles
im not getting any better repeating the same thing
it doesn't matter ill force on anyway
get around it
and keep somebody companyyessssssss!

now the applause and cheers
and the joke of tea and how addicted we are to harps in perfection!
how rich people are for deadly instruments of fools and telepathy!

Just follow me and
now we're another identity at the crime scene
somebody who left something in the bathroom
who in the future will run away from crawling
who will never understand the horrors
of having no friends
and now this new beat is saying wah wah wah
what about me
and love has no destiny
can we figure it all out
is god gonna forgive me?
oh dear oh darling!

im not even welling
you're just sensitive
darling we were just pretending
acting
and one day when you see
you will 
know the joke we're not telling
to those
whop won
world war whatever
and we're trapped in our own paranoia

it never goes away 
back to repeating
look at your family portrait
everybody is smiling
everybody is saying
I'm glad to be me
and love my family no matter what
i love this world
jest because i can
in this family portrait and the children are still singing innocently
everything is happy
Wand normal
and i just dance following you lead
looking for my partner to play a trump
and this intelligence of fools gold
leaves us all laughing happily ever after
happily ever after
the joke im not telling
im not telling
locked in a treasure chest
somewhere where the shadow fiends

its okay sweetie
don't be afraid
you've crossed over and now watch out for the body snatcher
and the mental vampires but you're not crazy we'll bring you there
to the place where they
ask you whats the matter with your life!


Details | Free verse | |

Kitchen Check

Clipped close
(mine)
Speculation lingers on 
Cautious shoulders,
Hooped ankles.

The clean sky
The dirty earth
And all the 
bird scraps 
in between.


Details | Free verse | |

My Music

To feel away from the world and be free
To be all by myself daydreaming
In a place where no one can bother me
Laying around being as relaxed as I can be

To let it flow
Through my soul
Through my veins it goes
Nice and slow

The words of gospel
So cool and mellow
Made to settle the soul
As the truth about God begins to unfold

I lay back
And relax
As it begins to capture me
And take over my mind and body

The words of r&b
Is a good feeling
Especially
When I'm listening to my favorite cd

To dream off the words all day long
Eyes shut, ears wide open, listening to the song
I may shed a few tears
From some of the songs I hear

Then I tune in to Hot 103.9
Hearing Tupac take us through his life line by line
Expressing what's on his mind
As he takes us on a listening journey through his lifetime

Just to lay and hear about what he's been through
Makes me know why he raps the way he do
The words come from deep down inside
Formed by feelings that he just could not hide

Different songs
Different feelings
All day long
Laying and relaxing


Details | Free verse | |

Rebel

A rebel
A wild one
Making his way
In this world
A free spirit
Craving adventure
Impulsive desires
Longing for individuality
Needing to stand out
Be different from the rest
Distinguished from the ordinary



Details | Couplet | |

Let's Start Today

Let's bring into this world peace
So all these wars and violence can cease
Let's stop all this hatred
And give the poor and homeless a piece of bread
Let's start by changing us all and right from inside
And letting God be your guide
There's so much we need to change
Even if it looks and sounds strange
We can all start sometime and somewhere
By showing in everything that we do, that we care

Let's be careful in the manner that we speak
Let's be strong and not weak
Let's show this world, that we still stand strong and tall
Let's unite together with courage and tear down every single wall
Let's bring into this world of ours much more love and peace
So a lot of this vicious circle of strife and pain can one day cease
Let's start today and let's do it right from the place in which we live
Let's always be respectful of our neighbors and our fellow man
Let's give the best of ourselves everyday and all the time that we can.
Let's stop this madness and get rid of all these illegal drugs today
They can destroy everything that you have and will kill you too
Make a vow to bring God into your life every single day
And make Him part of everything that you do.
Believe that your life will be more productive and blessed
When you put Him first in every thing
That you set your mind to do when you bring
Him closer and right inside your heart
And from you He shall never depart
So start by doing this and much more
Let's answer the call and open the door
Let's be watchful of everything that we do and say
And let's be thankful and pray to God everyday!



Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2008


February,2,2008


Details | Free verse | |

Untitled #272 / A place

A narrow street separates my subdivision from the graveyard,
a place for the living,
a place for the dead,
a place for us all.
Both under the sun and bathed at once in shadow,
are they so far removed?


Details | Free verse | |

The Alumnus is Back


  He smilingly, smugly says to himself:

     "Ah, if only these kids knew

        I was best debater here,

           essay-writing champ, basketball star,

              physics gold medalist, heartthrob

                 of the loveliest in school

                    ...ah, but they just don't know."


   But, how some of the kids look like

     absent classmates decades dead!

        So, he keeps coming back with the years

           to this campus like a restless dog

              haunted by a place where it vaguely

                 recalls having buried long ago

                    ...something really precious!


Details | Blank verse | |

Not Really Lonely

Around me loom awesome skyscrapers 
   that slice the skyline into smoggy 
      strips of vertical horizons.

Closing in on me, they gleam as colossal,
   hubristic trophies blotting out the last
      piece of the afternoon sky.

Benumbed by the din of this throbbing
   city, I sway to the commotion
      of motion in a sea of strangers.

In this hurrying horde of humanity, it seems
   to me each one seems so alone
      among so many, so like me.

But I joyfully get by, thanks to memories
   of the hushed swishing at the shoal
      back home by the shore,

The grassy edge of the lush foliage,
   the scent of the earth's warm breath
      after a drenching downpour,

The tranquility borne by the sunlit 
   mist that is warmly waking up 
      the still dreaming morn,

All these cool and coo and caress
   my savaged, sagging soul, and
      though alone, I'm not really lonely!


Details | Cowboy | |

Waiting for the Light

     It's quiet as he rises,
Makes his way to the kitchen,
Builds a pot of coffee,
In the dark before the morn.
Stands on the back porch,
Looks upon his Cowboy Kingdom,
And savors the perfect Stillness
As a brand new day is born.

     He moves out to the corral,
To his throne upon the top rail,
Seats himself to where
He can look off towards the east.
He contemplates the North Star,
Circled by the big dipper,
Cowboy clock, keeping track
While all the world's asleep

     He can see the shapes of cattle,
In the tallgrass of the pasture,
A sliver of a moon
Casting shadows on the ground.
Hears the nightbird call,
As the wind begins to stir,
And the soft talking of horses
As they begin to move around.

     He'll watch the stars awhile,
Pick out the constellations,
Wonders what it's like
To ride the Milky Way.
And bear a silent witness,
To this solitary moment,
Say a thankful prayer
As the East begins to gray.

     Streaks of light are moving,
Dancing bright across the sky,
He feels a little sadness
At the dimming of the stars.
There's Something holy in the darkness,
That reveals a sacred promise,
That binds us to the earth,
And reminds us who we are.

     His cup of coffee finished,
He slides down from the top rail,
Feels fortunate and privileged
To be part of the dawn.
He smiles into the fading night
And walks back to the cabin,
Without a doubt he knows
This is just where he belongs.

     It's the best part of the day,
Sitting in the darkness,
Knowing in your heart
That all is right.
The best part of the day,
Sitting in the darkness,
Waiting for the morning
And the light.

Copyright © Debra Coppinger Hill and  G. Casey Allen 


Details | Romanticism | |

My Bad Dream is Reality

I close my eyes as I try to push it back in my mind
It’s just wasted time 
The memories are embedded
The feelings cemented in here
There is no escape
No freedom to be found
They are a part of me
Who I am
Who I will remain
Happiness short-lived,
Usurped by a constant pain
A brokenhearted melancholy
I cannot sleep
I cannot eat 
I cannot live
I cannot be me anymore
When I close my eyes,
You’re still staring at me
On your porch that pretty summer night
The words I hear,
Enter my ears,
And infect my heart
As you begin to stumble in telling me,
That we are falling apart
I open my eyes,
And to my demise
My bad dream is reality
A look in the mirror,
Red, sleep-deprived eyes staring into me
It’s no surprise you couldn’t handle me
I’ve been trying to for years
I wish there was a way
That I could go back to that day
When you told me your reaction to when I confessed my true feelings
It could have ended then,
That April day
Life would have been easier I do believe
There wouldn’t be so much attachment,
Resulting in less to be grieved
It would have been so much easier,
If I were the one setting you free


Details | Haiku | |

The Chase


... highway stretches like

          a cat flattening its ears

                 chasing fleeing years ...


Details | I do not know? | |

Through These Streets

Walking through these streets
Full of empty names
I pass another city block
But things aren't quite the same

I used to have a purpose
I used to have a place
But today things seem empty
In this busy space

Everything moves
At a faster rate
Gotta stake your claim
Before it's too late

Life will pass you by
If you don't even try
Gotta achieve my goals
Before it's too late and I die


Details | Rhyme | |

Casino Blues

            cursing your fate, leaving that casino,

           you zoom away in your glistening limo;

      it seems you've been on a long, losing streak,

   feeling down, down, like some hearbroken freak,

        wishing you were that drunk, carefree hobo,

            nothing to win or lose, anywhere you go.


Details | Rhyme | |

Life's Up's And Downs

life sure has it's 
up's and downs

but this is no reason 
to wear such a sad 
looking frown

for the sun still rises 
escapading her crown

as the wind silently whistles 
to a flutal sound

birds and butterflies flutter 
amidst grassy carpet mounds

children's laughter how profound
little toes buried in sands ground

aqua velvet splashguarding abound
rockbeds and lighthouses I found

so family and friends 
let's gather around 

and go out and even 
hit some new found towns

for life may seem to have 
it's up's and downs but

refuse to wear a 
such sad looking frown

for if not for our savoir
blessing this earth's ground

there would be nothing left but peeps
and wispered uttered sounds



Go Out And Enjoy Life
And Nature Too

Listen To The Whispers Of The Wind


Details | I do not know? | |

Trapped in Paradise

Soul trapped in paradise, broken like statues, 
bleached out like skeletal structures on sandstone.
Helena's pastries, warm honey skin,
a blanket to smooth back the shape that you're in...


Details | I do not know? | |

The Attic

Rummaging through the past
In boxes closed by time
Opening all your memories
Of life left behind

Smiles cross your lips
Tears hide behind your eyes
Faded memories come flooding back
Of life left behind

Photographs taken
Moments made eternal
Letters written
Thoughts inscribed in journals

Thinking back
Remembering the good and the bad
Thinking back
On life that you once had


Details | Free verse | |

Hollywood Freaks

glittering gold crosses 
adorning muscled, tanned bodies 
endlessly liposuctioned into Versace
worshipping the almighty dollar 
as they cruise the golden boulevard 
disciples of Bentley and Rolls

paying lip service to the lord
with collagen smiles 
gracing plastic personas 
attending parties in mansions 
of champagne pools 
served cocaine hor d'oeuvres  
Hollywood freaks 
housed in elegance 
furnished by fantasy 

friendships built on lure 
reputations a headline 
image a status symbol 
marriages made in Vegas heaven 
Elvis holds the key 
to Graceland 
divorces like seven elevens 
dotting every corner 
littering the landscape 
with strewn lives 

broken families and values 
throw away children 
interchangeable, designer 
values learned upon Hollywood's stage 
too rich, too famous 
brilliant birthright or ultimate demise

see Paris smile 
oozing techno melodies 
enhanced vibrations 
for adoring consumption 
preparing to tousle on silken sheets 
taped erotica, enjoyed and outrageous 
sensationalism sold and eaten whole 

triviality for the world to eat up 
fodder for the eyes and mind 
narcotic of unfulfilled aspirations 
of the young and easily beguiled 
rap kings with wordy crowns 
in bullet proof vests 
turf wars fed silvery bullets 
embellished and devoured 

anti-establishment encouraged 
women bartered, raped in words 
advocated sentiments 
that churn within little minds 
arise, listen to the lies 
hidden within a P Diddy smile
as body guards wade through the fray 
protecting the now for an uncertain future 

fooled, seduced by ironic images 
distorted for our entertainment 
Hollywood freaks 
proving that all that glitters 
is not truly gold! 


Details | Free verse | |

Memory Lane

Come with me, let's remember the days
 when life was easy and free,
  let's turn back the pages of time
   and be young once again.

Can you hear the song playing,
 do you hear its haunting strain?
  do you recall the traces of the music
   coming down memory lane?

My life is so empty, I need to escape,
 those happy days are dead and gone,
  they will never come back again,
   so here I just pretend.

Can you hear the song playing,
 do you hear its haunting strain?
  do you recall the traces of the music
   coming down memory lane?

Yes, it floats down memory lane.


Details | Free verse | |

Drama of Life

The dawn is down
And the dew is due
So the stage is set
Light rears lavishingly
Beautifully bright
Out of the embryo
Of mother sun
The morning round 
In view
In full open
Advances darkness
Sunset destage 
Weakly dull
The dawn is up
Dew is spread
The night is gathered
Scenes for men
A drama of life.


Details | I do not know? | |

Point

Coming down the court,
Shaking,Baking,Breaking,the press,
Set up the play of course,
I'll drop tha dime,just finish tha rest!
Step up in need,command your team,
I'm always working hard,
Tha #1 spot, if you know what I mean,
It's obvious, I'm a Guard!


Details | Quatrain | |

Journey

One trip around the sun
And I still haven’t left this place
Burning feeling from my pen
Time from a distant mind

Eight phases of the moon
Eclipsed in a crater of discovery
Sifting through foreign thoughts
And I still haven’t left this place

Wading in a barren strait
Shipwrecked though never at sea
And I still haven’t left this place
Anchored by scribbled dreams

And I still haven’t left this place
And I don’t exactly know why
Trapped between two ears
Until I digress…sometime


Details | I do not know? | |

Epiphany's Flight

Sky spreading thick like octopus ink
Clouds crackled lit like tentacles pink
The moon on the way to her brilliant parade
with stars for the train of her gown
Flying with eyes out the glass of the world
Ground speeds beneath me, incredible blur
Tree tops dissolve in the cover of night
The plane holds the vacuum of sound
Up, up, above I am privileged, awake
while I hold up the earth with each breath that I take
The sky is my ocean, the clouds are my dreams
which for once, I hold the key to, it seems...
Ping of technology, tin captain's voice
pads all the passengers thick with white noise
But I press my nose to the portal expanse
as the body I'm in slowly leans...
Sky calming me to the point of decision
Lips like a silent prayer said with precision
Just as the earth brings me up close again
with it's gravity pulling me down
I'll snap shot this ocean, this fluid emotion
This once in a lifetime trip of devotion
I'll settle my differences with moon, star and man
before my enlightened feet bold touch the ground...


Details | Blank verse | |

Summer Wishes

Fresh cherries ripened upon the weeping bough,
alive with rustic sheen, taut of skin;
perfect teeth cleave through the surface flesh
and spit away unpalatable stone;
for it has no meaning,
existing to be discarded, forgotten.
Yet without it
there would be no more cherries.
How easy it is to pass things by,
to give so much less than a second thought
to that which is trailed in the white-water rapids
of youth's turbulent propulsion.
In these shallow waters, idealism
is baptised like a beloved curse,
a holy grail kissed by reflections of a golden sun;
embraced and caressed as a lifelong companion
with lively but faint hints of desperation,
as if a sixth sense of it's true nature, fragility,
has already begun to nag.
Reality cast out - like cherry stones - from those
dreams of the walkers
on highways paved with bejewelled optimism.
Let the dreamers have their dreams;
let them reach and touch the surface of the sun,
for who knows if they will ever get burned?
How I wish I were like them still.
How I envy them the sweet palatial sweep of an open mind.
Yet, perhaps they should beware of
Summer wishes, wrought from innocence, on still,
humid nights;
wishes made upon the stars above;
beware their wishes are not falling upon the
cold space debris of
an Apollo rocket.
Or some other soulless man made hardware.


Details | Narrative | |

Laundromat, 9:12 P.M.

Sixteen unique individuals
sit on sixteen washing machines.

As they make small-talk
they stare at sixteen dryers, all in a row
chugging and churning to the same hum.


Details | Blank verse | |

Road To Nowhere

Vast expanses of landscape
brokenly glimpsed
through darkened glass,
imposed behind the spectre
of my facial reflection;
out there in the wilderness
truth burns like a beacon,
faith sears like a branding iron,
history seethes in the rocks.

I see the galloping dead,
headless horsemen atop
lathered steeds,
pinion the malformed past
with their ghost weaponry;
feathers and buckskin trails,
displaced speed lines
beside the forked tongues
of endless highways leading
to the self-same deadening tomorrows.


Details | Quatrain | |

Black River

Sitting on the river bank
while black water pools and slips away
cleanses the spirit of all that was
with a spit polish brass on the dullest day
Invading the current with questioning
with feet skinned in white and bones
catching the answers in black water leaves
while they linger, then sink to their home
All of the motion, in rocking, in waves
All of the sounds brim with life
strip me to soul strings and play me like music
an orchestra dark and deprived
I'll never settle in silt and starvation
I'll never sink like a stone
Catch me a current out on the black river
Carry me back home, alone.


Details | Free verse | |

A Poem For Linda

A Poem For Linda 

A Poem For Linda 
I am no busy husband. 
I do not knoe what I became, 
I am a poet ambassador, 
And I have my new name, 
{charlax} 
Not for the ax at the end 
Thow that may also come. 
I have so many poems now. 
I have one or three or some. 
I was just remembering 
the last time that you spoke. 
How you said" i have my pond" 
But then I heard (YOU SPOKE), 
Linda,you said", I am sorry God, 
 i do not have my Charlie" 
and that is when my heart it broke in pieces, 
and now I am Just sorry. 
Jesus Saves(me) 


Details | Terza Rima | |

Dusty Glass Pane

from below, erratic night traffic 
               gently taps at the wide windows
whose glass looks enigmatic,

though its graphite grayness 
               is really not a solid part of itself,
no dusting can darken it less,

a cathedral pane of ages olden,
               but from across the noisy street,
a pizza neon tarnishes it golden!


Details | Blank verse | |

Everyday Occasion

Yeah, so 
        I looked in the looking glass, 
not much there to 
        write home about 
except the cardiac veins, 
        they stand out, 
and, of course, the 
        Caligula face pack. 

In the blanket 
        battlefield, 
crumpled sheets askew, 
        the dishwasher blonde 
spreads like pale blood 
        on the pillow. 

I could use a shave, 
        but what the hell; 
she wallows in cheap paste, 
        resplendent diamante; 
so fetch down that Capodimonte 
        statuette of the 
Virgin Mary, Luigi, 
        I feel an occasional 
prayer 
        coming on.

Yeah, so, 
        beat retreat, uncork 
the breakfast bourbon; 
        in the gut swills 
and gets to murdering pain; 
        jams a little juice 
to get me on the road 
again...


Details | Verse | |

Buttercups And Dust

Nothing much has grown since the drought moved in;
  a garden wasteland parched by relentless sun;
dismayed and discouraged I blink through beads of sweat,
  perspiration merged with stinging tears when day is almost done.
Wisps of orange smoke and a haze that dries the soul,
  dehydrated feelings lead to one too many drinks;
each breath a melancholic sigh; the fiery sun descending
  over hills and out at sea it seems to sizzle as it sinks.
What will become of me now that I am made an island
  and desperation frays the nerves so callous and unjust?
The barren lawn which stretches from the stoop into the future
  throws nothing up for miles and miles save buttercups and dust.


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Cellblock 19 Bunk 3

Up again at three,
Before the bellowing guards and shuffling feet, 
The fluorescent dawn still hours away…

Hands too soft for hard labor
Dig crusty scales of brief escape
From the corners of watery eyes.
Hope dims as focus returns.
From my perch I survey
A sea of black iron bunks.
Shallow snores, dry coughs, wet farts.
Their dreams like their tattoos:
Crude and incomplete, childlike and menacing,
As threadbare and tattered as our bedsheets,
As pale and shadowy as the naked bulbs
Ever-burning at each end of our
Pink visqueen sky.

Now I recognize this place.
There is no justice here,
No reform, no rehabilitation, no reward,
Not even retribution.
Just the labored slumber
Of dry hopes and dreams of punctured flesh.

I close my eyes again, awaiting escape.


Details | Free verse | |

Concrete Floor

Hard and cold
It sure ain't gold
A slab
A ton
Engage the gun
Hard as steel
These chains are real
Voice and sound
It breaks you down
Hurt and pain
Drives you insane
I'll give you more
If you explore
Walk through that door
Claim down these steps
Beneath my concrete floor


Details | Free verse | |

Untitled #149 /

“Freeze your nuts off”
What a gray, gray day at Lake Norman
the worst weekend for a first regatta
our sloops were plastic toy boats in a toddler’s bathwater
and we the hapless Lego men
the November wind screamed through my windbreaker, 
which could not keep my quivering body warm enough
after three times out wrestling with the lake
the lake! It was the Maelstrom to my novice hands!
and I caught a monstrous cold, nearly vomiting
from the richness of the air in the Starbucks, and
four hours of carsickness on the drive back to Knoxville
Ah, but I would not trade that day for a weekend at home!


Details | Couplet | |

Found On My Shore

You washed up as a smooth white bone
of concave breadth and marble hone
You washed up when the tide was high
Held to my cheek to feel the sky
You dragged in with the silver tide
a secret to the waves confide
You lost me then inside your spell
I felt to faint, a bit unwell
You salted skin upon the beach
when you were there, within my reach
You played the waves to sweetly slip
in equilibrium to tip
You waited there to hear my name,
to soak the sand in pouring rain
You slept awhile until my hands
brushed off debris of golden sands
You washed up like a Grecian stone
when I was walking there alone
but now I'll throw you past the shore
You're not the treasure I'm searching for...


Details | Light Poetry | |

dressing for the Lord

when you attend church
It does not matter what you wear
God is just glad
that you showed up there
church is a place 
where you go to get inspired
It's not a fashion show
depending on your attire
many people fail to see
that all God want you to be
is a faithful and regular attender
living your life by His agenda
as many have often say
clothes don't make the man
just be clean and neat
give God glory
and to Him raise your hands

when attending church first began
on Mount Olivet
many people were happy to worship God
in whatever clothing they could get
so don't be a prude
and don't be rude
just be thankful that they cane
for God loves us all just the same


Details | Ballad | |

WHEN I WAS A BOY

Once upon a time
in a world...
You cannot see,
was a place for you and me

Fields in which to run
Enchanted trees to climb...
In a land of beautiful sun
This was a time...

Long ago, far away
how I ache...
For those days...
When a Heartstone,
lay in my heart,
and I learnt the Wise Ways

The sound of lute filled the air
Magic too
Trees of soft colour,
shaded the castle from view

So many places to play
Enchanted rooms
Nooks and crannies
Finding a hiding way

The changing seasons
Beautiful in their nature
Queens and Kings
The way of things

Such joy and harmony,
amongst the whispering trees
A Stream of Sighs
Watching Heartstone eagles fly
This was a time...

For a young boy,
to lie back in a field of corn
The King of Air sculpting clouds
Watching eagles fly
Faeries being born...
This was a time...

Once upon a time,
in a world you once saw
Behind a secret door...
Is a place for you and me


Details | Blank verse | |

Homeless Alone

Picking off carrion birds on the
telegraph line with a calculating eye;
sat on a cold marble tombstone armchair
chiseled with the name of a friend of mine...
what was he called now?
Strange days these indeed, they never seem to end;
isolated in my freezer compartment mind,
nothing much is stirring in there,
no circuit breakers cut through the stasis.
I poke the dead leaves with a psychic shotgun barrel;
they rustle and crackle - moths in a Chinese lantern.
Incoming snowflakes lock onto my cheekbones,
heat dredged slowly through my scalp;
I savour the chill as it creeps into my flesh,
shivers at least are delicious and Winter likes
to embrace my soul and fondle my
heart valves with permafrost fingers.
Tears won’t solve anything,
and wanting something doesn’t get anything;
the only cure for cold is warmth and shelter,
the only cure for loneliness is company.
Alas, I have no friends
and all my enemies are dead.


Details | Ballad | |

Broken Hearts Bar

This is the place where they come to escape the stress in their lives 
A lot is from their husbands and wives 
This place gives them a lift 
The regulars start swooping in at 10 am from a long night shift 
At one time or another, everyone hurts and bears some kind of painful scars 
You can find all kinds of emotional burden here at the Broken Hearts Bar 
The doctors, the suits, the welders, we get them all 
Others escape by attempting to crank out a tune on the piano facing the west wall 
After a few drinks, everybody starts feeling well 
The alcohol numbs and strips away our protective shell 
Everyone enjoys talent night, it makes them feel good 
Distorted by the liquid courage, they believe this is their ticket to Hollywood 
A taxi driver of 23 years, complains about his back 
He has his pain killers with a double shot of Jack 
There is always a place for my down and out guests 
I lend an ear and allow them to get it off their chest 
The winners and losers come here because they are accepted for who they are 
Everyone is welcomed to the city's center of depression, the Broken Hearts Bar 
George tells me tonight he will be visiting for the last time 
He says this every night right around nine 
George takes a moment to reflect on the troubles of his past 
He tells me it's true, nice guys finish last 
So long, my time is near 
I will become a nobody and disappear 
He tells all his friends to keep reaching for the stars 
I smile and tell him, there is always a stool for you at the Broken Hearts Bar 
Yeah, I know here the door swing in and out 
I thought maybe at the bottom of one my drinks I would discover what life is all 
about 
The emotion in the air is thick like tar 
Please come again to the Broken Hearts bar 


Details | Free verse | |

To His Own He Returns

he keeps coming back with the years,
   to this campus that used to know him,

      that now obviously remembers him not,
         like a restless dog haunted by a place

           where it vaguely recalls having buried,
              so long ago, something truly precious;

   
he says to himself, so condescending,
   "If only they knew who I was in this school,

      I was student leader, essay-writing champ,
         heartthrob of the loveliest, I was so cool,"

            but how some of the kids, as they rush ahead,
               look to him like absent classmates, long dead.


Details | Free verse | |

The Priority

THE PRIORITY 
They strut and preen the students of life 
They try very hard to from a priority of one  but only in mass numbers can they 
force me from my temporary home the computer in the lieberry is where eye write 
all mye poems from and although eye am not a genious eye am a poet as most 
of ewe will agree in the poetical realm of statemans land the places that eye visit 
in my mind are better learned and softly written into WORD 
Upon the keYboard of the DELL is where eye want to bee 
When eye have a poem to interest ewe and mabe me. 


Details | Free verse | |

galleria

rose colored sunrise , powder blue noon
high pitched shrill from a nearby loon
sandpipers race the dune in sync
following the waves to get a drink
ocean breezes , whisk up frothy foam upon the sand
like wayward sailors from a distant land
coconut groves , pineapple fields
colors and scents you can practically feel
waterfalls rush off sky high cliffs
misty rainbows seem to hover and drift
deep , lush greens , vibrant birds of paradise
natures everchanging art you just can't buy
taking a stroll down memory lane
god's galleria , lovingly , contained .


Details | I do not know? | |

Spring

The snow is melting on the ground and winters chill is past.
The trees are coming back to life!The sky? still overcast!

The animals are stirring from their Winter's tranquil rest,
The birds are hidden-still (poor things) but soon they'll build a nest.

The lakes have lost their frozen caps, (the streams and rivers, too)
And soon I'll look up to the sky and see it's brilliant blue.

And as I step upon the ground with it's coat so very cold,
I stop to ponder on my walk, why Winter should be so bold.

I think about our Spring (now due) and hope its beauty is nigh,
For when our winter sheds it's coat the earth will soon be dry,

For when our winter sheds it's coat it's beauty makes me sigh.


Details | Rhyme | |

WHO ARE YOU

WHERE'S THE GIRL IN THE YELLOW DRESS
SHE HAUNTS MY MIND AND FILLS MY DREAMS
I'VE SEARCHED FOR HER BY BABBLING BROOKS
I'VE LOOKED IN VAIN BY FLOWING STREAMS

ONE DAY I  CAUGHT A GLIMPSE OF HER
AND THOUGHT I'LL PUT THIS TO REST
BUT SHE DISAPPEARED IN A BLUR
MAYBE IT WAS FOR THE BEST

THEN I SAW HER JUST AHEAD OF ME
RUNNING ALONG A LEAFY PATH
GRABBING A BLOSSOM FROM A TREE
I COULD HEAR HER GIGGLY LAUGH

I FOLLOWED HER TO THE RIVERSIDE
SHE WAS STEPPING FROM STONE TO STONE
SUDDENLY SHE TURNED TO ME AND CRIED
SHE THOUGHT THAT SHE WAS ALL ALONE

SHE WALKED TOWARDS ME WITH A SMILE
WITH HANDS OUTSTRETCHED SHE SAID TO ME
YOU'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR A WHILE
YOUR SEARCH IS OVER NOW YOU'RE FREE

I LOOKED INTO HER EYES OF BLUE
TO TRY AND SEE SOME SECRET THERE
ALL I COULD SAY WAS WHO ARE YOU?
SHE SAID PLEASE DON'T BE SCARED

I AM YOU