With just a little coaxing I can remember when
Excitement ruled my early days when you'd come home again.
I was a boy, just seven or eight and you were fully grown.
And it was a very special time when "Brother" would come home.
You and your special Mildred, The two of you and "Wart"---
You see, I can't remember the three of you apart.
Since you were up and married before I was ever born,
I can't remember all the things that happened on the farm.
But, things I do remember -- I can remember well --
Like the gifts you brought at Christmas none others could excel. –
Like the places you would take us, Mildred, me and "Wart" --
We'd race the train to Cameron if that old Ford would start. –
Like the times we'd all go riding and it seemed the car would wiggle --
We'd look and see you steal a kiss and me and "Wart" would giggle.
Looking back, I realize the young love you both shared
Began a life together that God himself prepared.
So, no matter where I wander,
No matter where I roam ---
No thrills can match the ones I knew
When "Brother" would come home.
This was written for my oldest brother and his wife, Mildred, on the occasion of their 50th wedding anniversary.
During WW2 he held a most critical position with the government in New Mexico.
“Brother” was a nickname we used for him and “Wart” was a nickname he gave his oldest son, my nephew, only one year Younger than me. He was an inspiration to everyone he met. His life story is motion picture material.
Copyright © John Posey | Year Posted 2013
JE SUIS CHARLIE — Afterthought
The shock of this most frightening tragedy is practically beyond
the pale of any reasonable or adequate attempt or effort to explain
it or to rationalize the horrible circumstances surrounding it.
Let me just say that all of us who are writers and poets ply our
poetry, “our intellectual wares,” if you will, in a common written
medium that expects the same unrestricted level of freedom of
speech and expression exercised by those extraordinarily brave
artists at “Charlie Hebdo” who were recently murdered in cold
blood by self-styled Islamic extremists in Paris.
It is also equally saddening and deplorable that some courageous
police officers died in the line of duty defending these freedoms
as well as some other security people and hostages caught up in
the midst of these most terrifying circumstances.
The heinous actions perpetrated by these armed extremists
destroyed innocent lives and affected the lives of a number of
loved ones whose burden of sadness and tragedy is unimaginable.
Their actions also were an attempt to strike at the very heart of
those sacred freedoms that all of us who live in open societies and
democracies cherish as part of our everyday lives. The armed
extremists, by their actions, also personified and demonstrated an
obvious affectation for barbarity, stupidity, ignorance, and cowardice
that were all on ample display as a result of what they did.
Freedom of speech and expression are among those certain
historic inalienable rights given to all of us by the divine hand of
God himself, and certainly not by the generosity of any government
or religious group (regardless of faith). The brave souls who died
at Charlie Hebdo, died exercising this most sacred franchise.
The point I’m driving at is this: Those extremists who committed
these most reprehensible actions of recent against their fellow man
did not win in spite of their collective efforts to destroy lives and to
sully these precious freedoms that all of us as writers and artists
hold so very dear.
The outpouring of emotion and sadness in support of these slain
heroes in the face of this most despicable crime is quite compelling,
and underlies the continuing determination of all of us who love
and cherish the freedoms of speech and expression to continue to
speak out and to exercise these sacred rights without reservation.
With all of this in mind, I humbly and proudly conclude my narrative
to all of you here by saying and echoing as loudly as possible:
“Je Suis Charlie” . . . “I am Charlie.”
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved (January 10, 2015)
Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2015
Charmaine means love
Charmaine means happiness
Charmaine means tenderness
Charmaine means sweetness
Charmaine means softness
Charmaine means joyfulnes
Charmaine means gentleness
Charmaine means angel like
Charmaine means purity
Charmaine means truthfulness
Charmaine means angelic
Charmaine means kindness
Charmaine means sensitive
Charmaine means warmth
Charmaine means passionate
Charmaine means delicate
Charmaine means elegant
Charmaine means graceful
Charmaine means fragile
Charmaine means rare
Charmaine means exquisite
Charmaine means all these things
© Jack Ellison 2015
Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2015
Beyond the skills of escorts
and the appeal of other playthings,
smolders the need of the soul
infused to best every man.
Twelve years have taken
the scars out of the memories,
from the last time I was
up and through
just to come down and out
to find every fairy tale
extends it’s hand
to some tragedy.
The odds don’t warrant
the time of practical effort.
Too keen to the liabilities,
always calculating ends.
It is not the demands of over
or having to start something new
rather, better to remain alone
than to be let down again.
But now I see you,
and it makes me pause
so still, with the whisper --
Are you sure?
Falls into a deafening singularity
forbidding even a scream, it’s escape.
I sit and can only see
the touch of Heaven
reaching across the Caribbean
to color your face.
As your smile holds the songs
of every dawn’s temptress,
under the soft disposition
of your eyes
rests a divine spirit’s symmetry,
while lensing each strand
the perfect frame.
That once moved a favored King
to murder a man, only to bring
the sword into his own house.
Enabled an army to take
a strong city with just one horse.
And enslaved the envy of Venus
to sharpen leaden arrows,
but fury slipped her hands
and bled her wrists out.
Blood clotted on the cold muck
of her grave, a suffocating cocoon.
Immersed the viewer becomes,
and timeless the window
of the heart that is God’s craft,
denying the deceiver’s forgery
of any singed carnality.
As if proximity has been given
within the mist of your perfume,
in just this one picture
of your face.
Copyright © rob carmack | Year Posted 2016
The crucible savant.. by Steven Hudson
(Crucible: A place or situation in which concentrated forces interact to cause or influence change or development.
Savant: a person of learning…)
Through sleepless, hopeless nights
With liquor on breath and dull head
Alone and cold in lay,
We made our passage to manhood,
Many days in suffer and want
Through tears and hardness of heart,
With sorrow for cellmates
In a prison self-made,
Rather hunger and want
Then submission to those above,
Wild wanderlust thrust us into darkness
Uncertainty of survival, without care,
Knowing no other way,
We strove to understand the deeds done to us in violence,
Shiver, quake, lie awake, as hopelessness covered us like a blanket,
Thieves and murderers as strange bedfellows,
Ladies of the night for use and forgotten,
Laws of the land forsaken,
In desperate want, Never knowing if we’d awaken,
Making our way through this world
Boys living as men,
We threw the line, heaved and toiled
In bright sun and fear,
With hands and feet against the frigid snow,
We lived beyond the breaking,
Many before us have sought their manhood,
While others have had it thrust upon them,
Much has been learned, much has been taught
By the flames and the fire, the crucible savant,
It has been our right of passage
Through bloodstained cloth and scars,
The fathers who came before us, live forever in the Arms,
Painted grey, now I see, the path laid out for me,
By the Infinite Son, whose Glory was won,
Making the savant, a reflection of Thee..
Copyright © Angel fire | Year Posted 2012
My math teacher was such a colorful character
She loved to dress herself in a black pair of trousers
with a red belt adorned around her waist
and countless pairs of sleeveless blouses too
She often humored us with her smile
and childlike laughter
and her heart was as pure
as the golden sand on Goodman’s Bay
She had a conscience as gentle as cotton
and she danced like the brown girl in the ring
doing the jump and dance to rake n scrape
When on her best behavior
she loved to call her students her honeys and darlings
while her favorite words to us were: "y’all stop being slow!"
In her voice which paralleled that of a teenage girl
She disliked when we make her stress level
race as high as a thermometer
and made her nerves
dance the heel and toe polka
Because she became very agitated
and spoke in multiple tongues
which I couldn't describe
and was never afraid to embarrass you
and place you in the doghouse
for misbehaving in her domain!
letting you know from the start that she ran things!
My math teacher
genuinely loved all of her students equally
she painted each of us as her own sons and daughters or adoptive siblings
she made sure we always completed our homework and class work
and nailed all of our linear regressions, permutations and combinations too
or else she would scold us with the words “go and study!”
forcing us to pick up a math book and graphing calculators every single day
making sure we didn't waste time procrastinating on Facebook
drinking too much coconut water at Arawak Cay or watching Scandal
she was no joke!, she was bad out there!
she was a woman ready to work and educate!
she knew the time!
She loved when we referred to her
as the best mathematician in the history of the school
because it made her blush and
a stream of tears to run down her eyes
bursting with estrogen of feminine pride!
while she slept, ate, inhaled and exhaled
the elements of calculus, Mathematica and trigonometry
as they rushed through her body like a junkanoo parade !
Written by: Mia Pratt,2014
Copyright © Mia A.S. Pratt | Year Posted 2015
He loved you too, you know
Loved you like his very own
In away you were
You came into his life as my friend
Through the years you grew to be my brother in arms
Along the way you became the son he never had
He loved you as a friend
He loved you even more as a son
A son he never had
When things began to spiral out of control
You stayed when so many others ran away
You helped when I couldn’t
You meant a great deal to him
You never looked at him differently
Nor did you treat him differently
You stood by his side
When he fell, you stood by his side and mine
You were willing to help me fight his battle for him
You were there from the beginning
You were there until the bitter end
Always remember my friend, my brother
He loved you more than you’ll ever know
Dedicated to close Family friend. He loved my Daddy just as much as I did/do.
Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel | Year Posted 2013
A Woman’s Worth
By Nate Spears
Her purpose in this world is hurting
She’s never been a designed of perfect
But she is a mom, so she’s super
Then roll up her sleeves ; and
Take care of the kids; and
Making it a home
For a beautiful family to roam
Building wonderful memories
Becoming a woman of worth
Keeping her faith through Christ
Keeping her pace through health
Keeping her sanity through managing
This is a woman’s worth
I’m giving you
Despite of all the stress
She receives her family with open arms
Through all the mess
She’s a fantastic mom
A wonderful woman
Deserving a round of applause
Plus a standing ovation
For always being an American sensation
That held this continent down since day one
Since the Plymouth Rock landed on us
Thank you for her giving
Thank you for her living
Thank you for her children
This is ,
A woman’s worth.
Copyright © Nate Spears | Year Posted 2013
My mother, my grandmother before has always held a place in my heart.
My father, and my grandfather before has the same part.
I was young and very active with unwillingness to listen fully to what they had to say.
I had a problem, never could be solved without my parents and grandparents till today.
With patience they all come to my aid when I fall on my face.
With little dishonor I listen to them and what they had to say, I embrace.
Over the years I go to them with no doubt a feeling of no dismay.
Over the years I go to them and they help me solve problems that to me is O.K.
Now I am getting a bit more aware of what had happen to me when I was growing.
Now I remember how the ride was in my beginning: it was a trial of not knowing.
With the guided words of my parents and grandparents I survive through them all.
With it some being a problem that I remember I recall.
My mother and my grandmother always said to be patient and it will be easy to solve.
My father and my grandfather always knew that I would grow and evolve.
I could wonder everyday what if my parents and grandparents was not in my life.
I could just think that would be fatal like a stab with a knife.
With knowledge that they had past on to me of what they had experience.
With their proof of teachings they had past on to me is their self existence.
Over the years I grew with life so full of happiness that was because of my families love.
Over the years it showed me the path that led me to all the above.
Now cherish those words that help me through my troubles in my new family.
Now I listen to my parents healing words of wisdom and except them gladly.
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013
A bow launches The arrow
titanium a Strong heart
target of an Infinite memory
inscription: literature Of knowledge
centuries of Infinite melody
ultimatum victory visualization Of triumph
Structure of Divine perfection
Essence to channel The ecstasy
lyricism of a Lovely life
inspiration For love
jewelry to sow in Being temperance
amazing love child Of destiny.
humility of one who knows how To listen
Beauty: Rare a Happy song
expectation for a Better world
horizon Unrivaled joy
reason for True friends.
^ ^-----------------------^ ^
^ T E M P L E A T T I C U S ^
^/\/\/\/\/\/^---------------^ /\/\/\/\/\/ ^
Copyright © Max Diniz Cruzeiro | Year Posted 2015
Once I had a bicycle,
A loving present from my grandfather;
Since I was his favorite granddaughter,
He granted my wish at a snap of my finger .
Since he was so old,
A new bicycle he could hardly afford;
He took his bike when he was young,
Which I found it once at the back of our barn.
As far as I remember,
It was really so old and rugged;
But my grandpa was like Mr. Mac-Gyber,
Amazingly fixing all things all-over.
My granda was a well-known painter,
I thought he will repaint and use sandpapers;
When I surreptitiously sneaked into his hut,
He was there recycling all my milk cans.
When everything was done,
He gladly gave it to me with a big hug;
I hurriedly drove it at once,
Down the street and field with so much fun.
“My bike was real a unique one!” I thought.
So different from others in our neighborhood,
Its wailing siren was made up of a cow’s horn,
Tubes were made of dried bamboos and corn.
Other parts were still the same,
Like forks, hubs and chainwheel set,
The rest were made up of my milk cans,
They were pedal, brake and seatgear stem.
Handle bars were what I like most,
Converted from the handle of his old plow;
So sturdy and so strong all I knew,
And I can drive it so long in full control.
However, when I travelled quite afar,
Parts were falling one at a time;
Until everything suddenly split apart,
Eventually it dropped and rolled me down.
All Rights Reserved
Date: Aug. 3, 2012
4th Place Winner (My Very First Winning Poem)
Contest: Any Poem of the Week Contest
Contest Judged: 8/4/12
Poet Sponsor: Poet-Destroyer
Copyright © Galeo DS | Year Posted 2012
I was once in your womb
Pain of giving birth was like
One foot in the tomb
The bout that you needed to ease
Because I might be lost
If you don't fight to cease
Thank you for rocking me unceasingly
Thank you for feeding me
In the middle of the night tirelessly
The naval that I see
Is evident that you never gave up on me
I love you so much Mommy
Thank you for your unconditional love
You are my hero Mommy
Sshhh don't tell Daddy Mommy!
I love you too Daddy!
And you are the King and Queen of my heart.
September 30, 2015
Copyright © Meline Ngo | Year Posted 2015
it was already dark outside
silence had totally ruined the night
only my lampshade in my room was at my side
trying to comfort me in all my sorrows and trembling fear inside
as soft tick-tocks of the clock were heard
my heartbeat increased its rate
I asked, “Are they reckoning that few time for him has already been left?”
I began to feel, I was already in abyss of despair
the phone had rung for the second time
my mom and aunt once again were at the other end of the line
thunder storms blasted followed by a torrent of rain
when they asked me to talk to my dad to finally say goodbye to him
I tried to talk to him but he could no longer answer me
despite the silence at the other end
I didn’t stop begging him
I cried and cried out so hard
as the darkest moment started creeping through my veins
until my aunt answered the phone in lieu of him
begging me back to let him go, so as to release him from all the pains
to say the word goodbye to my dearest dad
was the hardest thing to do in my whole life
it had totally broken my heart and seemed as if I was losing my mind
so, I kept crying out and begging him to fight
he’s miles away and I couldn’t just reach him out or to be right there on his
I knew he can hear me, so I kept reminding him
about what I’ve promised when I went back home
to spend a short time and took care of him
I’d promised that I’ll fly right back home after my work
to take care of him again and walk him out of the door
together we supposed to walk around our house with his arms on my
my aunt begged me for the last time to finally free him
it was against my will but I decided to do what was best for him
when he was finally gone, I unconsciously screamed
alone in my room miles away from home, I was in deep pain
I felt like I was totally engulfed by the darkest of the night
I rolled my body on bed, crying out loud and hugging my pillows so tight
wishing someone had to put me into trance, so I closed my eyes
while in prayer, I imagined him waving goodbye
as he finally went up there through the brightest light
©2013by Leonora Galinta
Contest: New Poem
Poet Sponsor: Poet Linda/PD
Copyright © Galeo DS | Year Posted 2013
She curled her tail around her toes,
Covering whiskers, chin and nose.
An ear twitch here, another there;
She claimed as hers the easy chair.
Tormentor of both mole and mouse,
She spent the summer out of house.
Plundered, pillaged, night and day,
No mercy for dim witted prey.
Summer passed and then the fall,
As bitter cold left wintery pall.
The feline wanted none of that;
Once more she posed as family cat.
She lay about each day and night:
Purred when stroked and feigned delight.
Her bowl, her chair and toilet place,
Were all she claimed as sovereign space.
The season wore on long and cold.
Outside most life seemed put on hold.
The feline lay there still as dead,
Entombed within her winter bed.
Come now the spring with days of fair;
The old cat stretched within her chair.
A well placed nose near open sill;
She felt the much diminished chill.
Then rushed to door that still was closed.
Cries from her pleading throat arose.
Weaving through her mistress legs;
"Let me out," brash feline begged.
As chipmunk fed in hemlock crotch,
Unfettered cat dashed off the porch.
With one quick scramble up the tree;
A winter cat she ceased to be.
Do we not marvel at her grace,
Ere all those months confined in place?
The cat resumes with guileless ease,
Her summer reign of fields and trees.
Copyright © Diane Lefebvre | Year Posted 2015
I recall it was just the other day
Featured in the daily for which we pay
Your blown-up photo splashed across
The front page for all to gloss
Your background and your virtues extolled
For your wedding bells were soon to toll
With a king-in-waiting as the groom
You would wilt or you would bloom
For marriage makes or marriage breaks
And happiness, it gives or takes.
Demure and with dimpled smile
With an innocent heart, free of guile
The press was exuberant, so were we
You were the most charming in the royal family.
Welcomed all across the globe
The royal couple widely roved
Ambassadors of all things good
Displaying virtues like royalty would
You touched hearts wherever you went
Concern and compassion were your strength.
You were blessed in due course
With two sons that God had chose
Then differences with the prince surfaced
And you lost face, where you once graced
And while your marriage began to flounder
Your man, the prince continued to blunder
On the treacherous rocks of marital infidelity
You were shattered – your happiness was the casualty.
You decided to go your separate ways
Those were also the wishes of the palace
The trauma of separation was sheer hell
The ways of royalty were beginning to tell.
Now, hordes of newsmen invaded your privacy
In your land and beyond, you became a refugee
The air was also rife with rumours
Of liaisons and friendships and misdemeanours
Your saddest day though, was the divorce
Of you, whose touch was like the kiss of a rose.
And alone, sweet Princess, you forged along
Your grace, in adversity, inspired many a song
Of worthy causes, you were still a crusader
And you remained ever, a loving mother.
It is said, you had found love at last
And the leech like lensmen went wild with thirst
For photos which augment tabloid sales
They chased you in cars and astride motorcycles.
For you, a Parisian tunnel was the end of the road
You didn’t reap in life, what you had sowed
And while your life ebbed within the wreck
The paparazzi zoomed in, to make hay off the break
Your blood-spattered close-ups drove them to frenzy
As you lay helpless, unattended and in agony.
And later in the night, mercifully all was darkness
The world woke to a tragedy caused by sheer madness
Copyright © Sumit Majumdar | Year Posted 2013
Blind Ambitions Of Glory
The daily news was splashed with a sweet picture of an beaming 16 years-old lass..
As Felicia Mikat greeted an awakening nation today with her athletic medals of world class..
Achieving track honours in the 8th Asean Para Olympics athletics events in Singapore…
Her exploits was a much welcomed news amidst the other mundane news at the fore..
Her infectious grin of happiness beamed widely and readily from the sports page…
As all Malaysians were awakened to her incredible feat of 3 golden medals…
There was nary any fanfare or trumpeting of her potential to secure such successes…
Likewise there was no grandiose reception to welcome her homecoming hence…
Being a visually impaired lass born in some obscure village way off the beaten track…
From the age of seven, she has been housed in a school hostel, far from her family pack..
For one so young to be away from the loving attention of her maternal home…
This is one amazing success story of a teenager bringing honour and glory home…
Her loving folks back at her home, they were in awe of their daughter’s fame..
Never in their dreams that their little baby with her special needs can find such fame…
Her blind ambition to excel on the running track, under the eyes of a dedicated coach…
Underlines the talent, the hard work and the tenacity to succeed while being coached…
Now that her exploits are catching on with the imagination and realisation of this nation…
Some monetary rewards and incentives are fast forwarded as forms of recognition…
The glory that accompanies each golden achievement is well deserved and hard earned…
The golden sheen that comes atop a winner’s medal, represents genuine sweat and the tears..
The long and lonely hours working out on the track, only a dedicated coach will know ….
How hungrily a dedicated athlete train in order to excel in any chosen event and show..
For para athletes like Felicia Mikat, they have often been overlooked for far too long…
It is time the community awakes and acknowledges the para athletes all over the world…
For a visually impaired athlete such Felicia, you can say blind ambitions pushed her to succeed…
As with the other para athletes, forget not that perseverance and dedication too must take the lead..
Copyright © KENG CHUAN SENG | Year Posted 2015
Am I The Next One
Ladies and gentlemen, girls and boys invited from selected primary schools…
The State Squash Association warmly welcomes each one of you into its fold…
It is more than likely all you parents here today would really like to know…
Does your much loved son or daughter here today has the potential for squash golds…
Ladies and gentlemen, sad to say, I can’t rightly tell for I really don’t know..
Boys and girls, this I know- you yourselves must step forward if you want to show…
Truth is, ladies and gentlemen, true squash champions come along only once in a while…
It is not everyday our association can discover them as easily as flowers in the wild…
Boys and girls, join in our squash training program and be inducted as a Rising Star…
As you train and grow in years, there is much you can learn while reaching for your stars…
All kids, as young as 6 plus, please join in as juniors in this program, you’re big enough…
Dear parents, you may not think so, but your beloved kids, they are strong and tough..
Our squash training program, it is daily run by coaches who are professionals…
Dear parents, watch your juniors blossom into competitive players up to the nationals…
As squash players, they get to make new friends here in this state and there in West Malaysia..
All those who excel in this game, they get the chance to go beyond Malaysia, even Asia..
I am positive everyone here has heard of Datuk Nicol David, a champion second to none..
Yes, you got that right! She is the woman squash champion of the world, 9 times done…
Sad to say, our beloved squash queen Datuk Nicol was discovered some 25 years gone…
As a nation, we are still looking for squash champions good enough to be the next one…
All the young ones here today, I challenge you to ask, “Am I The Next One?”
Young squash players and champions for tomorrow, will you be the next one?
Copyright © KENG CHUAN SENG | Year Posted 2015
Paris November 13th Makes Me Weep — Afterthought
The shock and tragedy of this most horrendous event of slaughter, murder, and unmitigated evil are indeed a very sad commentary on the state mankind finds itself in today as the dark specter of terrorism and chaos attempts to engulf our entire world.
We can never forgive and we should never forget the evil that these minions of darkness—in their acts of barbarity, cruelty and cowardice—perpetrated upon the innocent, unsuspecting people in the magnificent city of Paris during the evening of November 13, 2015.
The death and destruction wrought by these armed terrorists, although similar to that which occurred to “Charlie Hebdo” earlier in the year on January 7, 2015, was unfortunately executed on a much larger scope and scale resulting in the deaths of 129 people presently and injuries to over 350. All of this transpired in the later evening hours with a cold and quick military precision among terrifying shouts of “Allahu Akbar” by ISIS-associated terrorists.
All of this was supposed to done by these terrorists in the name of God! Huh? Really? All of this was to satiate a dark thirst and to justify an evil philosophy of murder, rape, pillage, and destruction en masse in the Middle East—and now brought to the evening-hour streets of the great city of Paris in France.
The makes me weep the deepest tears possible for sure, as I am also sure it does Almighty God in Heaven! This horrific event is beyond the pale of any semblance of human decency and dignity, let alone morality! These self-styled Islamic terrorists and extremists filled with hate and anger committed the cold-blooded murder of innocent people to fulfill their warped vision of Islamic sanctity—and in God’s name! This was an abhorrent act of absolute sacrilegious depravity on the part of these terrorists!
These individuals may perpetrate this evil and stain the streets with the blood of innocent people presently, but they shall never be allowed to win in this ultimate struggle. The motto “Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité” (or “Liberty, Equality, Fraternity”) for France stands at the vanguard of freedom and justice as a timeless symbol and legacy from the Age of Enlightenment that is now inextricably bound as part of the French national heritage. I pay my humble tears and respect for what this historical motto stands for and means today.
The freedom-loving countries of the world and their people must stand together now with France in this hour of maximum danger, and help support its government and people in combating and destroying this dark specter of terrorism that has entered its borders and murdered innocent people without any iota of conscience or remorse whatsoever.
With all of this said, I offer my sincere respect to all of the dead and injured victims who had to endure this nightmare tragedy in Paris on the evening of November 13, 2015. My God protect the eternal souls of those who perished in these coordinated acts of senseless violence, and give solace and peace to their families and loved ones who remain behind.
I know that I shall never forget this evening of terrible violence inflicted upon Paris and its innocent people, just like the violence and death during 9/11 in the United States.
May God Bless the victims’ eternal souls forever, and let us pray that the murderous violence of ISIS and other radical movements analogous to them are one day stamped out from the face of this Earth. Amen!!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
November 15, 2015 (Narrative)
Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2015
The stray cat walks on three legs now.
(I swear he’d walk on two.)
I found out just the other night;
My neighbors call him Lou.
He’s weathered one more winter:
The fourth since I arrived.
The shape he’s always in by spring:
Lord . . how does he survive?
I leave a pan of dry food out
Each and every day.
Protected from the rain or snow,
In case Lou comes this way.
A little dog house waits nearby,
Next to the pan of food.
It’s padded well in wintertime,
In case Lou’s in the mood:
To trust me and to rest awhile,
In a place that’s dry and warm.
To stop his weary traveling round
And nevermore move on.
Except for this I do no more,
For Lou will not come near.
He’s feral now, afraid of me
And this won’t change, I fear.
In speaking with my neighbor though,
It seems there are a few --
Who also care about the likes
Of poor, old Tiger Lou.
His days are spent amongst us
And amongst us they will end.
But none can say, stray Tiger Lou,
Passed by without a friend.
Copyright © Diane Lefebvre | Year Posted 2015
He came from a distant galaxy
On his way to planet Earth,
he stopped over to visit Mars
but didn’t like the atmosphere
No clubs, outdoor concerts or studios
and just a few microscopic life forms,
thus the audiences were rather sparse
They were rather small-minded as well
and did NOT appreciate his music…
He couldn’t stay here very long either
The Polaris Council advised him to leave
(Many other galaxies to visit ya know)
However, I MAY have some good news
There’s an outside chance he may return
When he thinks we are ready…
Copyright © Tim Ryerson | Year Posted 2015
Li Na Tennis Champion
Asians in general sat up to take notice when from the vastness of China arose a tennis great…
Never mind it was a she, and at an advanced chronological ripe old age of almost touching 30…
Li Na from China was one well travelled tennis star, her world accolades coming in very late…
When many a famous players were thinking of retiring in fatigue, she upped her game to the level elite..
First and only Asian to win a Grand Slam Singles title, she was a ripe old 29 when it happened…
Many more illustrious tennis professionals have long gone to pasture before reaching 29 or after…
But not Li Na the most famous professional tennis player from China, the most illustrious too..
2011 French Open Champion at age 29 followed in 2 years later , 2014 Australian Open at age 32…
Now , if one were to check up on China’s most famous tennis daughter, Wikipedia has it all …
It chronicles in fascinating details the checkered career of this badminton reject since she was small…
An astute coach suggested she had best switch from the ever popular racket game called badminton…
In that big nation of badminton crazies all over, it must have hurt to be ejected from badminton…
But her excellence in tennis was astonishing to say the least, by 1997 she was in the national team…
Incredibly, she was then only a teenage at fifteen when China drafted her into her National team…
Two years later, in 1999 following a 10 months stint sponsored by Nike, Li Na turned professional…
Her rocky path to be a successful professional was camouflaged by her many ITF numerous titles…
However, she quit the National team in 2002, going on to complete a Bachelor of Journalism in 2009..
This was another cap in her journey to tennis success, an academic complement to her tennis prowess…
From the barrage of numerous first evers for this Chinese tennis phenomenon until her retirement..
It is obvious she was a tennis prodigy who happened to come from the far east to tennis fans' amazement...
For further readings of Li Na, the most famous Chinese phenomenon in woman professional tennis …
Do a Google search and feel amazed at the massive write up about China’s most famous daughter in tennis..
Or Look out for Li Na Superstar Part 2
Copyright © KENG CHUAN SENG | Year Posted 2015
I feel that I have found a home in this cyberspace
with full of hearts and ideas in a special place
I wonder of all the people in the world to make me smile
with antics that help me grow in every mile
I do want to say to all of the people with respect
because of all of you my mind is not in a wreck
I would lie if I did not get ideas from all of you
without you my poems would not come true
I bless everyone with care
with kindness and without dis-pare
I hold my hands high and put them together
with this I bless you with good weather
I do read some of the poems that people put out
sometimes I feel with out a doubt
I feel the pain in the poems that some has revealed
with hopes that they can read with their mind not sealed
I smile a bunch with every word
it is like a music in my head making a cord
I do want you all to know that you have made my day
to be a better day in every different array
I cherish my time with all the people in my heart
the words flow in my mind is just but a start
I'm happy with everyone in PoetrySoup.com
with hardship that came this cyberspace makes me calm
I cannot choose five cause if I do I don't think it's right
just to tell you that is just my own insight
I thank all for helping me grow with all the poems that are shown
with faith and humor, with views of kindness this site has grown
If I had to say or dedicate my poems to who
would be the first five who reads my poems with a point of view
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013
Righteous Malaysians they are found everywhere...
Here in Malaysia and in countless countries out there...
August 29th 2015 heralds the dawn of a new awakening.....
August 30th 2015 continues this launching of renewed enlightening...
Worldwide, concerned Malaysians they take to the streets dressed in yellow...
People, young and old, proudly they rallied in their T shirt yellow..
Day 1 saw masses of righteous Malaysians stay up through the night...
To awaken afresh for the rally the next day alright...
August 30th is the 2nd day for this monstrous rally...
One that will be immortalized for posterity in local history...
This is the day when righteous Malaysians sounded in alarm....
Of a beloved nation in a distress never yet to be found...
We Malaysians usually read with only passing interest....
When neighboring Asian countries suffer political unrest...
And their people take to the streets to be heard and to protest...
Who ever thought we Malaysians too will one day thread the same path...
Just to be heard, and to push for the government for a change of heart....
From a progressively authorative government in mismanagement...
To a people-centric democratic government expected by all its people...
This monstrous rally of 36 hours was widely touted as Bersih 4.0....
Simultaneously held in all countries that teem with righteous Malaysians...
Bersih 4.0 is a historic event for Malaysians in hundreds of thousands ....
Where true Malaysians showed solidarity for genuine love of the nation...
The monstrous rally was but a mass appeal to awaken an uncaring government...
In the hopes that a cleaner and just government for the people will be eminent....
Now that the dust and drama of that massive rally is settled...
Whither goes the direction of the government for the people of Malaysia?
Copyright © KENG CHUAN SENG | Year Posted 2015
THEY WERE AN INSPIRATION TO US ALL THEY WERE MIGHTY AND THEY WERE STRONG.
THEY FOUGHT FOR EQUALITY AND FOR JUSTICE THEY PUT GOD FIRST IN EVERYTHING.
THEY STOOD UP FOR WHAT THEY BELIEVED IN THEY DIDN'T TAKE NO FOR AN ANSWER.
I SEE THEM AS MIGHTY MEN AND WOMEN WOULD NOT TAKE A BACK SEAT.
ONE MINUTE THEY WERE HERE BREATHING THE AIR OF LIFE THEY NEXT MINUTE THEY ARE TOUCHING THE GROUND ASLEEP IN THEIR COFFINS.
FOR IF THERE WERE NO WASHINGTON THERE WOULD NO LINCOLN, NO TEDDY,NO FDR, NO JFK, NO CLINTON.
IT WAS SUSAN B. ANTHONY WHO PAVED THE WAY FOR WOMEN SUCH AS GERALDINE FERRARO, NANCY PELOSI AND SO MANY OTHERS.
SHE PROVED THAT A WOMAN IS MORE THAN JUST A CHILDBEARER AND A MAID.
IF THERE WAS NO NAT TURNER THERE WOULD BE NO FREDERICK DOUGLASS, NO MARTIN LUTHER KING, NO MALCOLM X THEY WOULD BE NO OBAMA.
THEIR LEAGACY LIVES ON IN THE LEADERS WHO ARE IN THE MAKING INSPIRING US TO BE ALL WE CAN BE AND IF WE FOLLOW OUR DREAMS WE CAN GO ANYWHERE.
Copyright © Quondreika Cheatham | Year Posted 2012
VIETNAM VET SOLDIER'S NIGHTMARE
Another dream –
I could not wake –
Escape from what would follow--
Grasping for a secret word, the letters stark and hollow--
I was trapped entangled there,
Just beyond the reach
Of men that could release me
Or a hill that could be breached
Gunfire was a backdrop
Soft and pungent was its sound
Fell on me like raindrops--strangely harmless on the ground
Smoky gray encased me like a piece of sleeping net
Tunnel faces hidden —easy killing, no regret--
Felt terror and the aching for the friends around me cold
Standup guys with stalwart hearts--just did what they were told
Then my cell phone beeped a beep---
A message had come in ....
Now awake I saw your name---
My new day would begin.
November 25, 2012
waking from a nightmare contest
Copyright © Victoria Anderson-Throop | Year Posted 2012
I watched her walk away
And my mind wondered away
Do I or Not
Count the fading heels
Count the healing strides
Count the fast passing past
Finger after finger
I never stopped and I cursed
To voice atop the last floor
How do I or Not
Steal tomorrow from the day
Beam with joy where I don’t enjoy
Look back and see you seeing me
Like children hiding nothing
The fire is gone
The bush is growing on cinder
Will it or Not
Shoot each foil and flower
Summon you who lights the fire
Pretend nothing ever killed
The whole generation of Love
Copyright © peter Onyancha | Year Posted 2013
D'ya know a person who's caught my fancy
Host of The Tonight Show fame
Without a doubt, a talented entertainer
The charming Jimmy Fallon by name
Really been a fan since the day he took over
Can sing, can dance and tell jokes
Guests who've appeared on his last night show
Play parts in his skits, never coaxed
A genuine talent in so very many areas
A natural for the late night spot
Charming and funny, just made for the role
As popular as Carson, he's got a shot
Impressions of the famous are really amazing
He totally can blow your mind
A tremendous talent in so very many ways
This man is truly one of a kind
So here's to you, I salute you Jimmy Fallon
You'll be around for many a year
Carson's longevity is about to be challenged
Years from now Jimmy will be here
© Jack Ellison 2015
Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2015
My Auntie Mary Rose
Years ago in my youthful years; my mother told me she named me after
My Auntie Mary-Rose. Oh how I loved her so dearly.
But throughout my young life I was consistently teased from kids my own age.
And even from some of my own close kin. After I turned twenty-one I soon
legally changed my name to Theresa Marie Christine. At the time I thought that no
one would ever make fun of me again. But alas, all of some many uneducated cruel
people never learn. While I was bartending, they’d call “hey TC bring me some of your
empty tea so we can see the inside of your shirt. Guess I should not have let anyone get
the better of me. I never knew that I was feeling so insecure. If it were not for one very
close sister of mine: don’t think I would have even made it to the age of 35. Now I’m
longing for my old name back.
For I really did love my Auntie Mary-Rose. My beloved Auntie Mary-Rose I apologize
for changing my name to Theresa Marie Christine.
Copyright © Theresa CW | Year Posted 2015
A lot of us have nicknames
Have you heard of “Betty Boop from Beirut”
The sweetest flower in the Middle East
Passionate, loving, and caring
Describes her to a “t”
It is an honour for me to call her my “friend”
I speak of course of Eileen Manassian
Who did you think I was writing about... duh!
Those who know her and I'm sure there are many
Are aware of her warm heart, her loving, caring soul
A true sweetheart of a lady
I am truly blessed to call Betty Boop my friend!
– signed Kenny, with love
© Jack Ellison 2014
Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2014
Tim Smith is an ordinary sounding name
But the Tim Smith I know is anything but ordinary
For a male to express love the way he does
In everything he writes
Is unique and truly a kind hearted soul
Most males usually have difficulty
Expressing their innermost feelings
At the risk of seeming unmanly
Tim has no such difficulty
He is difinitely in the minority in this day and age
And I truly admire him for this
To me, Tim is a real man
Full of confidence and comfortable in his own skin
Tim Smith... I salute you!!!
© Jack Ellison 2014
Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2014