I am the ring around Saturn
spinning words as particles of ice and dust
with the power to transcend
I am the original chosen to be right here right now
transmitting verbal frequencies
through speaking my thoughts into existence
I am the heir of omnipotence,
born with a direct connection to profound abundance
The one whose words will age, yet still have substance;
since there are no boundaries attached to my pen
I am constant energy
Translating personal experience into imagery
Vulnerable to tyranny,
yet i continue attempting to share some truth
through this abstract language of poetry
I am the core
I am that I am more
I am the Divine Presence that is the Source of my rewards
I am the green you get when you mix too much yellow with the blue
That shade of gold you get when the sun resides into darkness
and when it ascends in the dawn burning dew
I am the transition between the third and fourth dimension of time;
the love you feel when you realize how it feels
I am the poem that is abstractly direct
because I write beyond limits
absorbing frequencies from 3 to 8 hertz
through meditation for several minutes
I am the one bridging the gap between
the analog ascension and the direct connection to spirit
The one who is love
because I am a descendent of it
I am the rhythm that the wind blows
I am the beginning and the ending of stories told
about the universe and how miracles unfold
I hold the power to accept judgement from those who will do just that
Not knowing that I am them in the absolute reality of me
I am knowledge beyond measure because that is my right
So I continue meeting the different parts of me
when I meditate and write
Who am I?
I AM, THAT, I AM
There Are A Thousand Treasures Of Kings
Worth More, Than All The Wealth, There Could Be !
Some Say, It’s In A Kingdom Of Dreams
Others Say, It’s As Real As You & Me
The Legend Says, There’s A Kingdom Of Love
In A Kingdom, Far Away & Above
Kings-Treasures, To Be Claimed By The Best
Those Worthy Of Courage, To Quest
& So, This Is Where I’ll Start, My Friend,
Tho’, This Isn’t Where The Real Tale Begins
You See, There Was A Merry Band Of Adventurers
Who Went On A Quest, As Treasure-Gatherers
There Was Moses, The Freedom-Circle-Rider
Stayed His Course, Like An Eagle-Glider
There Was Goff, The Monk Of Sky and Trees
His Visions Of Life, Were As Open As Doors With Keys
There Was Kendricks, The Keeper Of ‘Interesting’ Tracks
& Marty, Of The Hale & Hearty & Power-Pen Pack
There Was Adell of Deep Wells … & Dio, The Devoted
& Dame Brown Of Mountain-Ground, So Sweetly-Noted
There Was An Irish Lass, O’Leary Of Laughter
& The Golden Daughter Of Grace & Audrey Of Gifted-Banter
& Devonshire, The Dove & Highlander Of Heather-Cove
Of First To Join Search: For Soup & Treasure-Trove
Of Course, We Have A Prince Of Passion Land
& Ismael, A Dream-Merchant From His Own Island
The Prince, Paints Of Pleasures; The Islander Speaks of Treasures
Both Know Of Biggest Royal Cache That We Could Ever Measure !
There Came Tim, The Archer Of The Wit-Forest
& A Determined Mother with Son, The Lady Doris
Maid Adams, Who Teaches How To Keep Cold Away
& The Lightning-Voice Of Linda Marie, Keeps Wolves At-Bay
There Is Sir Lamoureu of Sir Lancelot's Order
He Wields Words In Articulate Axes & Armor
And To Those Who Dare Say Chivalry Is Dead ...
Is Because -The Sonnets of Sir Lamoureu, They Have Not Read
& The Legendary Language That Sir Lamoureu Pledge
Then There's Lady Linda, A Chatelaine & A Poet Destroyer
But She Only Versus The Verses of The Vanity Voyeurers
Her Skill With Quill Accurately Quite Accords
As Proof of Pens Being Mightier Than Swords
We Have A Pretty Elf Known As Anne Lise Andresen
Her Piquant Topics of Poetry Makes Her Our Taliesin
And We Have Our Very Own Kind Maid Merryman
She Transports Adventures Better Than A Ferryman
Part 1 of 2
by Michael J Falotico
curtain covered heart.
slowly opened to a light.
love comes in and warms.
locked window to soul.
opened latches to create.
heart and soul now write.
a man lies asleep.
while dreams awaken inside
I now run with words.
Extraordinary, I am
Craving for unusual thoughts
Endless exploration without boundary
Understanding the gift I shouldn't fought
Invisible drawings in my mind
Playing with the words in my head
The food of my soul
I feel so lucky
The random thoughts
A lifetime companion
A self esteem builder
A goal planner
Be my forever life saver
I write more
I talk less
I want to please
I chose to bore
What tickles me the most
Is to know what I'm for
Thinking is my love
When my mind goes empty
That's when I hate
My day dreaming lust
Organizing things in my mind
Playing roles of simulation
Where images of art is my vision
And words of attitude is my heart
She, Of The Cosmic Essence
Aware Of A Power
Aware Of A Presence
And Aware Of The Need For Our
Desire To Rise Higher
… and Higher
To Our Optimum Height
Patricia … You Are Like The Alaskan Lights
Those Northern Flares and Colors In Cold Night
Floating Dreams, So Mesmerizing
Patricia, Brings It To Her Poetic Themes
Such Are The Verses She Shares To View
And Reading Them, She's Showing You
Her Cosmic Essence Insight
Oh Patricia, You’re An Alaskan Light …
So, Keep Reaching, Keep Speaking … and Write !
For The Girl, Who Shared A Comfy, Snug Book Read
On One Of Her Snowy Days … (Via Her Poem- ‘Autumn’s Passing’
Also - Your Poem ‘Journey’ is One)
See … It Brought Back Some Wonderful Memories To Me …
YOU’RE THE WEAK ONE
You’re the weak one, you’re a bully. The weak one is definitely
The bully is always the weak one, but your weakness you can’t
seem to see.
So, I’m going to try to shed a little light on your weak and inappropriate ways.
Your weakness began on your first bullying day.
Your false sense of power is not strength at all; it is a cry for help desperately trying to break through.
I actually feel a little sorry for you.
Weak kids like you always seek to find other kids they can dominate.
Bullies do this with vicious words, inappropriate actions, and misguided hate.
Is being a weak bully the banner you want to carry for the rest of your life?
Get rid of the bully banner forever; take up a banner that shows respect,
understanding, and tolerance for others, and always hold that one very high.
It's here now under a converted sky
Where daylight has loss it’s might
Hours before the green hills had sight, with
splattered hints of yellow wild flowers so bright
Now time has casts a different light
It here now where the heavens sings an evening song
With twinkled lights on a moon lit prong
Dancing stars and dreaming of mars
Its here on this transformed spot
I will sit and jot
It is here now as I lay back on this cool grass, and write a story
with the heavens the color of quarry
Of jeweled eyes in the skies
that connected to stories, some disguised
With silver spoons and astrological loons
On dream away, dream on by
to the earths motions and lullabies
It is here now time to take a brake
from life’s work ,and worries and heart ache
Try it yourself remember when, you were a child
when you looked up the night and smiled amen
Dawn has arrived and I hardly knew it.
Sitting and writing, I thought right through it.
Feelings about God and the need for peace,
Obsessed my soul, brought hope; pure love released.
I wish that I could wave a magic wand.
And bring to all mankind a loving bond.
Causing the world to find that peace filled place.
Where thoughts of wealth and greed will be displaced.
Alas, my heart takes flight away from fate.
And binds itself to peacefulness this date.
To fantasies of kingdoms far away
Where leaders feel my thoughts and start to pray.
I dream the most miraculous of all.
Begins when they upon their knees do fall.
Then, pray to deity that rules their soul.
And find that God by many names is called.
Then soon, love sparkles-- works its magic lull.
Evil thoughts and hatred vanish, null.
Peace and adoration upon men fall.
Oh, gift from God in heaven to us all.
Peace upon the earth sings, knowing at last.
That only by forgiving evils past--
And putting down war arms by trusting God.
Righteous love can procure the earth we trod.
But, only man, with God can win this race.
When death by wars does retribution face.
And cause the world to find that peace filled place.
Where thoughts of wealth and greed have been displaced.
Around the world when evil has been ceased.
The earth will live a thousand years of peace.
Until then, sadness will greet each new dawn.
And soldiers who survive will be war’s pawn….
© Dane Smith-Johnsen 11-12-09
‘ A Metaphysical Moment ’
A Metaphysical Moment
Electrifying To The Touch
Breathless, Thru The Clouds
Can My Heart, Take So Much
… Can My Eyes Endure
All This Vision, I See
Can Voice, Even Speak
Over Roaring of This Sea
… Can Ear Even Listen
When I Am Flying So Free
Soaring, So True With You and
Metaphysical Moment and Me …
A Metaphysical Moment
Will I Ever Understand
This Mystery of Our Universe
The Mystery of Woman and Man …
(And I End This with an Haiku for
The Haiku Master ‘Raul’ Moreno and
Metaphysical Poet Extraordinaire’ (smile))
Metaphysical Moment (The Haiku)
Metaphysical Moment …
… Nature’s Mysteries
Metaphysical (definition) as an adjective:
Metaphysical of early 17th Century Poetry
Relating to the poetic style of John Donne,
George Herbert and other early 17th Century Poets
Who used consciously intellectual language
And elaborate metaphors that compared things
My silly little Love,
Is not to far away,
I think about you day by day by day,
My silly little Love,
Your what makes this heart stay a beat,
My silly little Love,
You fill in all my blanks,
With out silents without questioning,
My silly little Love,
You sing to me,
And hit all the right tunes,
Makes me giggle,
Oh, How I Love you,
My Silly little Love,
You pull my hair back when it's in my face,
To notice I'm here, For the World to see me,
My silly Little Love,
Tough and strong,
Shows little emotion,
But I know what's going on,
Silly Little love,
You are the One.
Release white doves with wings unfurled
words of hope across the world.
Tell each other who you are
dreams are dreams both near and far.
Tell your friends about your stars
how high ,how bright,how much like ours.
talk about your daughter's smile,
share a story,walk a mile...
in the shoes of someone else
tell us how your heart just melts
when you see the sunset ' s glow
share your life and then we'll know
why we all can meet right here
with outstretched hands
and free of fear.
You see my face and you see my expression but you don't know the real me that i'm
You don't know that behind these eyes that a little girl cries every night, you
don't know the half so why are you desperately trying to label me with some brand that I
would never wear.
If you'd look a little deeper into these pearly browns you know that I am not just a
cover you have to take time to read the book to really know me.
You can't just skim the back or listen to what other people say because yeah I might
be talked about but unless you dip into the pudding you will never truly know why.
Maybe if you looked a little deeper you'd see someone trying to keep up in a endless
I keep on moving but it's never any good I guess I underestimate myself or maybe I
just need someone to give me courage.
I see the surprised look on your face and all I can do is laugh, I bet you didn't
think that I had so much depth, I better you never realized.
So even if it's not me your interested in, please let me teach you one lesson. You
can see some much more behind the eyes of a girl than the cloud of makeup hiding her
In a girls eyes you can see her insides, her deepest fears, her insecurities.
Behind these eyes is the magical side, and if you can look into them first then I know
that your confident and well worth the struggle.
Here’s my plea: Let’s write a poem for the world to read;
And in it is a message that all can relate or heed;
Encourage others to pick a pen instead of a gun;
With this poem let people be taught to bond
all spirits, whether in distress or in joy with a smile;
This poem we write be a reminder that life is fragile;
That peace is at hand, only if we want to achieve;
People will learn to greet enemies and they shall be received;
All of us can write, whether you’re white, black, or brown;
Just believe in what you can do; and not to aspire the crown
Of hate, if you dare tomorrow comes without tears,
Nor will there be worries of living in fears;
With this poem, people will burst not
In paroxysm of rage, but, be inspired to share a lot
Such as love, hope, or maybe, just give a friendly kiss;
You know, it’s easy to write a poem, than writing peace.
Globally, miners jubilantly jump for joy
Smiles on the faces of every girl and boy
The grins of a newly opened Xmas toy
Trade unionists bounce along the street
Music blaring and the tapping of feet
From nurses to Bobbies still on the beat
Street parties announced in the nation
Satan who brought economic inflation
Is deceased, now’s the time for elation
Its times like this I’m sad I’m an atheist
And can only shout and wave my fist
And then go to the pub and get pissed
To Commemorate My 300th Poem Here On The Soup
300 Tales Done
300 Threads Spun
Only 700 More, GOD
and Wherever YOU Beam Me
10,000 More, Gleam Me
- - - - - - - - - -
… I Have Lost 200 Poems
But Here Are 300
Because I Open My Arms
To Inspiration Undaunted …
“ Pancakes, Preserves, Poached-Egg & Pork
Maple-Syrup, Milk and Sun-Motes In The Morn
Calling My Name, Just Like Flapjacks To A Fork
Psyche Is Picking Up Poems, Like Babies Just Born “
- - - - - - - - - -
A Childhood Poem Remembered …
I See The Moon
and The Moon Sees Me
GOD Bless The Moon
and GOD Bless Me
… and Long Live, The Love Of Poetry …
Don't look this way
For I have been burned in the face.
Defeat and captured
Only released by the sound of my breathing.
From dust till dawn
I say look away for I no longer wish for you to see me.
Released the blood from my eyes.
Look away for I have you placed in my heart
I wish you not to see me this way.
Though I be burn ,torn,tattered and fatal wounded
Shall my breathing keep me sane.
May you memory keep me warm
See these words I speak,hear me breathing so shallow.
Feel the darkness that formed in my eyes
Since this is my mind I may be released.
But forever trapped in a maze that brings
Me up to drag me down.
Look away for I am burned in the face
As long as you remember your in my heart,
And memory I shall be in yours.
So I shall say look away
For I am burned tattered and torn inside my mind.
Just look away
My roots are trembling
through clay orgasm,
tumbling the landslide
that speaks every shake or so.
Leo roars and I await life,
Generic roving rumbles
reminding me of the world around,
but I never remember
how to cling to the ground.
Beauty of nature
Why condense it down to God?
Isn’t life enough?
As if the words beg to float from my throat,
But only spill with the ink of my pen;
Only with nature's embrace and sweet coat
Do I feel truth form in words and begin.
Solitary confinement- I'll find peace;
Only within, I can feel the soft hum . .
With each stroke, and spill, a gentle release
To nature's sweet music, pluck, and soft strum.
Nature shall comfort, wherever I go;
No matter the warm breeze, or the cold bite. .
Caressed by nature, rocking to and fro'
While I admire each beautiful sight.
So now that no one's here to inspire love,
I'll find it around, within, and above.
HAD FUN WITH ENTERING THE DICTIONARY FUN CONTEST sponsored by Delliah Ventura!
THESE ARE THE WORDS THAT HAD TO BE IN THE POEM
Abomination scorn Affection Passion Yearning
Struggle Attempt Cherish Relationship Flame
Taste Tender Inner soul Bloom Bamboozle
HERE IS MY ON THE SPOT CREATION!..enjoy :)
I was a woman scorn
Unknowingly cherished a relationship
where the flame was no longer existent;
where time flew by in the distance and I missed
everything in my life I intended
because I was accepting a me that depended
I made an attempt to bamboozle the truth
and convince myself that he wasn’t screwing Kim
Ultimately I faked passion and lustfully feigned for affection
since I’d been betrayed
So, I got down on my knees and I prayed
I began yearning for knowledge of my Inner soul
I began to taste freedom and feel whole
The healing began and my consciousness rose - fresh bloom
It was no longer a struggle to end an abomination that would
prove to be a path of doom
From a pencil to a paper I sing...
Lasting feelings without the sting...
Each stroke of a letter has a sound...
Never falling short or to the ground...
From a pencil to a paper I sing...
Line to line as each has a wing...
All the words connect and hold like hands...
From my title to my name it can now stand...
From a pencil to a paper I sing...
Where my heart and soul touch and ring...
I do not know?
On the day He died, I felt ashamed.
Quiet and remorse, I wanted to remain..
Why did I follow the ways of the worldly men?
When they mocked, scorned and spit on him?
I was the cause for what He went through.
I tried to find comfort; but, guilt was all I knew.
I couldn't eat or sleep, knowing He was dead.
Wishing now, I could take back everything I did or said.
When I had no one, He took care of me.
Set in my ways, his caring; I couldn’t see..
When I was ridiculed He didn’t take part.
Every kind thing He did, came from the heart.
He showed love to the rich and the poor.
To the lonely and the broken hearted, He restored.
How could I have been so prideful and blind?
How could I have been so cruel and unkind?
Sadness and guilt would not give up.
I wanted desperately to have taken the cup.
Why did I point at him and yell “Crucify!"
Part of the crowd, I sentenced him to die!
Oh, my Judas heart what have I done!
Oh, heavenly Father, I have betrayed your Son!
Crying and weeping, my heart slowly withers away~
So ashamed of what I took part in and witnessed that day.
As the days and nights slowly wore on.
I knew in my Judas heart what must be done.
In my heart I no longer wanted to live.
My own life, I wanted to give.
I bowed my head, feeling laden with sorrow.
What is the future of man's tomorrow?
I lifted up my face with tear stained delight.
There beyond me a beautiful luminous sight.
Was that Jesus standing there? Or was it a dream?
I wanted to run and tell him those things I said, I didn't mean.
I walked up to him crying and at his feet I knelt.
He looked at me, knowing my heart; what I felt.
He showed me his nail pierced hands~
Why He still loved me, I didn’t understand..
What I did I could no longer face.
But, in loving arms, I realized I was saved by his grace.
He said, He loved me and all men still.
That He died because it was His Father’s will~
That, through him, all men might be saved.
I knew then, in place of ours, his life He gave.
That all men may repent and be forgiven.
To be in heaven eternally~
Not In Hell, forever condemned.
To reign with the heavenly Father~
For all eternity, where unconditional love abides~
To be with Christ forever~ by His side.
Gon’ fish today
Dog days drawn’ near
As Ajay -- trout’s
In open air,
Sitting on the bank without a care…
It rains at last
I see bass – must
Caste in my lines;
Hooks are fine -- bet
I‘ll, catch enough big mouthed bass for supper, yet
YA DU Form: Each stanza - there should not be more than three of them - has 5 lines, of
which the first four have 4 syllables each, and the last can have 5, 7, 9 or 11. The last two
lines rhyme in the conventional way. There is climbing rhyme in syllables 4, 3 and 2 of
the first 3 lines
I do not know?
My Wishes are Simple
My wishes are simple,
my desires few,
to gaze upon an ocean,
and marvel at a solitary drop of dew.
My wishes are simple,
my dreams not too grand,
to feel the waves teasing my tired feet,
with no footprints left in the cool, wet sand.
My wishes are simple,
my thoughts serenely gentle, calm,
my heart resting beneath a swaying palm,
healing my being, caressed by nature's soothing balm.
Gathering grey clouds
Whip crack of frothing thunder
Is this Africa?
I think I self-sabotage unknowingly
because of fear
So my message goes unheard because I’m afraid to let the people hear
And end up drowning in the poetic blues
doubting my ability to write about the truth;
I dug deeper and deeper into myself trying to write a poem good enough to be free of judgment
Then I stepped out on faith and suddenly I was triumphant
and my writing grew
and I was loving it
I had finally passed the fear of speaking and caring about who the fu*c! was judging it
As I wait to be inspired for the next poem,
I sit and think alone and drown in my sorrows
Listening to jazz, blues and a.m. radio
trying to find an excuse not to perform at the SLAM
because again I can’t think of a damn thing to write…..
Drowning in poetic blues
Will this be the one that will be thrown away and never be used
Or will this be the one that transcends the others
and finally prove that poetry is blues and blues is poetry and hip hop and jazz and r&b,
Poetry is music and the words dance around in my soul
and I am free once they become spoken
In the meantime the paper is where the words will rest
until the silence is broken
Drowning in the sea of proper delivery
My voice, my stance, my intensity
How will others interpret the words that I’ve chosen so diligently?
I wrap my soul around the possibility that none of the words I choose –
will keep me from becoming deluged and trapped by the poetic blues
Somehow my heart refuses to accept that I don’t deserve to have my words heard
and it takes over this whole process
No more time for shrinking and feeling less
I was born to make my words manifest light
I am a gorgeous medium to the truth yeah that's right
I was sent here to give you a piece of good news
Remember that God is with you when you get
The poetic blues
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.
the negro is inferno. doomed for hell. sinful with lost indulging in their own ignorance. made into a reincarnation of the devils wishes. the devils wants the devils needs. they say the pigment is the reason. but i say Jesus is the reason for the devilish seasons excuse my blatant response to the evils that have been done in the name of the SON. the inferno negro is the movie of this country, always watched and critic-ed. you must understand that self hating is very wicced, misunderstood when you walk through a suburban neighboorhood the devil is screaming conform!! conformm!! inferno negro you dont belong so just get along, even if the devil knows. the devil knows your story and your weakness and he lives behind and inside the so called supremacy system we live within. peace inferno negro know thyself for you are so lost in this Babylonia hell.
My constant mirror from heaven,
On earth and in the sea,
Only you can be;
But can you see yourself in my poetry?
It The Everyday Struggle That Make The Man
This struggle we live in,this world is or enemy and our friend we fight to see it beautiful.Have you ever heard "I've given up all hope and am ready to die to day"
I'm sorry but this is more this is not some joke have you no heart have you no thought on what someone other then you have to deal with.I want to see the smiling faces of everyone that a longing dream since the day i could walk,Dreams are meant to be kept close,hearts are meant to be keep open,life is meant to be filled to the fullest.How can you say forget it and go and prepare to be put 6 feet under? I'm taking on life building up this life to see a better future for those who think they have none.Who am I to say people are crazy when I myself am crazy.Who has never been grief sicken in't human to the least.I say to those out there it is an everyday struggle that make a boy into a man and a girl into a woman,but if there is love there then this is what should be said"it is beautiful to love but to love is to know how to grieve".