My favourite chair
Said to me one night
What you going to write
Is it going to be a fantasy
A Haiku or a Senyru
What ever comes from your thoughts
It's from the inner you
I have supported and rested
While you have written your writes
From many an afternoon
Into the early morning light
You never get frustrated
You just sit and ponder
For you know there are words
They are just out yonder
This partnership we have
Will remain as close as ever
Until the end of our days
Will be the time to sever
We will continue to be
One and the same
I to support you
With poetry your aim
My entry into Matt Caliri's contest " Speak chair! Speak! "
Poetess she is, whose magic is cast with great ease
Opulent in words, charming to the utmost degrees,
Engraving hisses, silhouettes, images of natures surreal
Trespassing horizons never stretched out to an ideal
Destroyer as known for, although she's here to compose
Enchating poems and songs her beautiful soul bestows
Such a fusion encourages poets to hold their inks and quills
To write 'bout nymphs in seas or orchards filled with daffodils
Rampantly defeated by her as what often happens, except
Of all practiced skilled writers she's definitely the most adept
Yielded in a words-battle having a single acknowledged end
Efficacious "She" is by far a star who can simply transcend,
Reproductions of literary stylistic forms in her magnificent way
A lady I know as Linda with a pseudonym Poet Destroyer A!
© Guru Jad 2013
Dedicated with Admiration! :)
Writing is my challenge each day
But it's not the words or what to say.
It is the connection with other writers here
Because I feel I'm not worthy or equal I fear.
The talent expressed by so many others
Often makes me want to hide under the covers.
The gems that are written and ones that I read
Are so inspired, personal, and give me a need.
That's why I come here every time
To see what others have put in their rhyme.
Carolyn always has a message for me to ponder
And others write things that make me wonder.
I often race to the "New Poems" just to see
If by some chance there's one by which P.D has destroyed me.
And Carol, Bob, Nick, Emily, Wilma, and "the Sweetheart"
Write things that sometimes I just can't pull apart.
The Doc has written so many things
I am amazed sometimes at the thoughts he brings.
Others are here who write so well
Their words do me so oft compel.
For like unto them I want to be
Writing words that have meaning for others to see.
Will they be worthy I say when I'm done
Or will they be read by others, as I've intentioned.
You know I feel so many emotions just now
Because of all these writers, I just don't know how.
For they are a driving force for me
And part of my challenge each day is to make them see.
That because of them I have to write
Sometimes into the wee hours of the night.
To pick a favorite writer is...well a difficult choice
So I pick them all, because they shout with one voice.
"Write, you fool, then write some more"
Words I hear and cannot ignore.
So I choose them all...all here in this group
The ones who have made me hungry for Soup.
There, I've said it...and you know that's not in haste
The Soupers that are here are the best of all to taste.
thank you for poetry
a special gift given to us from you
a great way to express ourselves of your goodness
and the amazing things that you can do
as you minister deep into our heart
words with our pen on to paper then start to depart
words of love and devotion and so much more
all Glory honour and praise be to you
both now and forever more
we can only write in the way and the styles that we do
not because of us but because those gifts and tallents come from you. Amen.
To the happy lady behind those black shades,
I dedicate my poem as an exchange gift
for her incredible kindness and gracious wit...
even her words amaze the youngest lads!
Since her work was featured on Poetry Soup years ago,
I've become her admirer, and avidly read every poem she writes
with the passion and aspiration of a true poetess who immensely delights;
and doesn't she always capture the reader's attention with her unselfish ego?
Many are the dreams she has...as we all do for another laud,
and from her insightful thoughts written with refined style;
who wouldn't be her loyal fan and often drop her a line?
Read all of her poems and feel what makes her proud!
Sweet and lovely friend, accept my dedication
and add this name to the memoirs of your ambition;
sincere and kind friend, isn't honor the greatest joy
when someone such as me praises you as Helen of Troy?
No more tears
Dis quell those fears
Sing your heart out
Sing it strong
Write your lines
Post, where you belong
So much sadness
In so many writers
Again write your lines
We are poetry's fighters
Armed with pen
On computer sheets
On Word applications
It looks so neat
Trudy Diane Rider
This poem's for you
You'll soon be you
For Trudy Diane Rider
I do not know?
how do i say good bye
to a group of girls
and a crowd of guys
and try to speak
with tears in eyes
of struggles we have
of emotions we have
of passions we have
of feelings we hope others
of truth a little
we let the world know
that we spoke
and that we spoke
God made broken hearts
pick up pens
and write what
he was saying to them
God took creative minds
and wrote purposes
God put love in lonely hearts
that picked up pens
and created art
and unlike most
that toast the occasion
tempted by the devil
to drink and forget
we the scribes
chisel our words in stone
reminding our posterity
that they are not alone
each and every word has grown
and some times spoken from
our speech, our claim
WILL LIVE ON!
Oh, what a heart this one does have
As she writes words for us all
Left for reading, while heart is bleeding
Yet, able to make us feel tall
She pours emotion, honestly, wonderfully
Allowing us all to be a part
So, for this, I say to my dear friend
Thank you for sharing your heart
I do not know?
You have refreshed my soul today
with your liquid lines and your soulful sway
with the image you pour into listless words
which shakes them to action, vividly stirred
I may never meet you or greet you in person
but you have defused much incredible tension
You have lit fires in dark unused pockets
and filled with head candy you've left my brain sockets
To ring off the bell that you've started to pull
or join in the song till it's harmony's full
To slip into the sunset in your memory lines
or break out the camera to hold your designs
To lose my emotions within smoldered embers
of loves you have lost and committed to paper
in moments caught frozen, turning for masses
to understand just what your heart does encompass
I thank you for filling my pool back up
with pure creativity straight from your cup
for sharing your art cross the ceilingless room
of the cavernous ‘spanse of the poetical loom.
As I sat and wrote this poem,
I was grateful for my cozy home.
I started praying on my knees,
And suddenly I could write with ease.
I am sure, that if you pray,
He’ll be there for you each day.
He’ll show you your talents and your calling,
And when you are down, He’ll catch you from falling.
When I’m praying on my knees,
I know it’s Him I’m going to please.
By writing these poems and spreading the Word,
He knows when they’re read,
His voice will be heard!
I hope He makes you smile today!
I know it happens if you pray!
While preparing 1001 soups
For the last night of this year
I wrote a poem,
My only good poetry, ready to win the 1st Prize;
But I dropped it in…Soup.
Beauty abounds like the English Counties name
This all American girl, New Jersey dame
Curious I was when Devonshire graced my eyes
Then I started to read and what a surprise
This language we know written as art
Engulfed my enthusiasm, caressed my start
I just a novice on my writing road
Becoming totally absorbed, eventually showed
Learning my craft, soon we collaborated
This budding poet, no longer shaded
Her brilliant guidance, paved my lay
Alphabetical characters allow me my say
Up every day at three, fighting for life.
As support for so many, I don't know
how much longer I can maintain this strife.
A few minutes there, a few minutes now,
I scribble a few lines at a stop light,
back to the daily grind, and edit here
on the fly. Don't give up without a fight
the dream that words can make the world as clear
and as coherent as it needs to be.
Find the rhyme and nudge out a true meaning.
Pull it together and hope for a key
phrase. Send out for comment, not expecting
too much. So, a bad day was made perfect,
a sad week made great by Bella's critique
Thank you my fellow supers (soupers)
for inviting me to write more
for appreciating and loving what i do best
when I was previously on the floor
I do not know the lot of you
but I feel like I know you well
for we, we share the same language
that makes a weak heart swell
swell with courage to write it out
when all the world seems not to care
when I was down in the dumps one day
the supers caught me in midair
I thank you
with every word I write
every confession I pen
I thank you
with tears of joy
shed in tears of jet black ink
to the sound of rapping on gentle plastic
with every tap tap of the keys
I thank you more,
for holding me
when I run for your embrace unbidden
I thank you so much
when I run from home
escape that place
that begs escape
and rush first and only, to you
so thank you
for reading my words
and embracing me
when the embrace I feel at home
is a pressure that I cannot take
I know to you I can run
and with all the thanks in my heart
embrace you once more.
It's been a while since I've been to the soup;
I forgot how appealing it was.
To read all the poetry from so many talented ones;
Is simply a treat for my eyes.
Thanks to those poets who share their hearts;
I don't have enough time to thank you all.
But know this dear poet;
God above has placed each of your poems on His wall!
Your company restricts me,
To get around with others in world.
Whenever walks with you,
Assumes there are only me and you.
Forget my pains,
With you only bliss is what I gains.
Even in the darkness,
My every way is enlightened.
The reason was your glowing face.
Today got to know,
You want to remain free.
You believe in living without any bounds and so love,
But trust me,
Instead of getting nervous, I thanked you.
I am not upset for the reason
that we can’t be what I desired.
Though you’ve broken my heart,
But you thought me, “IT’S BETTER TO BE FREE”
My morpho was in my world,
But soul was entirely with you.
Now; let me also live free,
Want to fly in azure sky, like you….
Those streets started calling me,
Where I used to stroll all alone.
Again the emptiness wants to be with me,
With whom I used to stay till yet so long.
You will be always in my heart,
As a friend, but not as its part.
I wanted you in my life,
Now I desire purity of your heart.
Under any circumstances,
I’ll stand by your side.
If you’ll be alone,
I’ll come near to you.
In your bliss,
I’ll laugh with you.
You believed that song was more important for me than you,
How could I tell you?
That song had feeling of you in it…..
More is there to tell you,
But don’t want to make this poem endless.
Rest other remained things,
You can find in my eyes when we’ll meet next.
Request you don’t take my heart away,
Now let me live like you
Without any bindings, restrictions, obstacles
LET ME LIVE FREE……..
Debbie Guzzi easy I write your now song
Better since its brings me such delight, a
Nobler verse to see by this experiment
Crafting poems right
Subjects say they have no better you, and
I big hearted swell the rank extolling life
Pages written deeplyy in full sense image
Of all you worth, thanks
Yet I have never set me by rules before
Singing, counting, giving the world love's lost score
Nor let them so think I provide them door
To measure my heart.
I thought as hard as I could
Of how I would my first poem begin
But this I knew
That once I put my pen to paper
Then I could write a full book
So I started to write
With my eyes moving from left to right
And a lot running through my mind
People will hate it
While some others, it will change their lives
But this again I knew
That behind the best lines are worst words too
I hope it would be given a fair trial
My heart couldn't hope for any better
And at the end, you would say
How I love to read this poem again
‘ Dane Ann Has Done It ! - … ’ 66th Senryu
Dane Ann Has Her Brand !
As Published Poetess Grand ...
Congratulate Hands !
Dane Ann 's Book: “ 100 Poems For Life ”
Release Scheduled: Jan. 19, 2010
Poetry-Soup, Let’s Give A Hand of Applause !
(I Know, I’m Not The Only One To Know This
But Let’s All Spread The Good News in Our Own
Little Corner Of Poetry-Soup … So, We All Know
Again Congrats Are In Order To: Dane Ann
God Bless You, Hon ... Amen
‘ Dane Ann (Poetess & Web Mistress) … ’ 57th Senryu
Dane Ann … Web Mistress
Poet - Piece De' Resistance
All Thanks, Assistance
For Dane Ann’s Web Plan
Makes Poetry Sharing Is Grand …
Luv Ya’ Gal …
Finally a place
Amongst the chaos
Where my meager
Scribblings are read
By kind eyes and
No more trepidation
When I click on
That ominous button
Because someone has cut
My idea to pieces
Perhaps because I
Am no good – or –
Perhaps because I
Am better than they
Now I can eagerly
Await the positive message
Or well worded
Criticism and I feel
I am a better artist
Because of this place.
For giving me a home
For my thoughts, and ideas
And my creative spirit.
Written April 7, 2010
-------------------------------------------(note:Re-titled *surprisingly due to lack of reads:(
I officially subscribe to your ingenious wordplay melee today.
Enhancing waves in brains tomorrow, eliminating sorrow this way.
The hot fire you've prescribed heals my painful condition.
Inspiring me with firing your scrabbling ammunition!
Now and then we all have come across a piece of poetic perfection.
Your poem "INSPIRATION" gives due cause for your work's further inspection!
***a small dedication to a poet on Poetry Soup who wrote a poem which has me currently on a "Writing Roll". I thank you for sharing your poem Margaret Linton Lassie!
(NOW, someone please inspire me to type out this massive load of new poems!!! note: I write all my poems out on paper and post very few :( ~JoeY
staining my smile
bird's eye view
with water as my telescope
words....humbling my soul
"try a new way my dear"
Thank you...a day that I'll treasure.
(sniff)...'they like me, they really like me.'
During the years that I had lived
many friends I have had;
some nice, some good, some bad...
ah! being friendless is very sad!
Beside family...who else
will remember what I've achieved,
perhaps a stranger reading
my works too lucid and intense?
I have honored many unnotorious folks like humble mother,
and the ones who have touched me in ways nobody has...
having been an innovator, not much of a shaker,
readers will uncover the true meaning of my writings.
Besides family...who will take time to read them twice?
Have I moved, inspired and changed them in several minutes?
That could be so true by the interest they have shown in the poems
I've written and my wish is that they have found that voice!
I seek no praises or laurels for my creations with words so intuitive,
and if an ode were dedicated to me....so very honored I wouldl be!
It's not being naive...not to have realized it and be crowned with victory;
and in any respectable way they wish to remember me, it's their prerogative.
I used to be bisexual....but then I ran out of money and couldn't buy it anymore.
I just bought a 12 pack of cold pills- they should last forever!! I can't open the
When all else fails, you're up sh_t's creek!
I "souped up" my van- I wrote poetry all over it. Caused 6 accidents in 2 days-
seems others have lost concentration trying to read them at 60MPH.
Thanx to all the soup-freaks I've come to know and love- keep up the good
work...or, if ya can aford it, hire a ghost-writer. Just make sure he's not merely
Today I was surfing for ways of monetizing,
I need more money, so contests I tried finding;
I clicked here and there, from Google's search result,
Until I reached a link to a contest that made me halt.
So now I am here, I just signed up today,
Poetry Soup it's called, I think it will make my day;
I do have a blog, poegging is what I do,
It's blogging poetically, my own coined term too.
You might want to visit my humble home,
365-days-of-poem-blogging dot blogspot dot com;
It's actually a challenge to write a poem every day,
This is the second for today, I'll add it there, okay?
Before I forget I'd like it acknowledged,
What a wonderful site Poetry Soup has managed;
I know there are poetry scams that linger around,
I hope this site's contest is for real, to abound.
I can see through
The soggy afternoon,
Your words inspired
By ancient pines,
And mining ingenuity.
Pause only for a moment,
To let me in.
I am nothing more than a mirage,
A psychedelic relief
Expressed on a napkin,
Then soaked in the marinade
Not belonging to me.
Pause only for a moment,
To let me in.
A bellowing delight
In proof of Emerson’s
And once again,
Three times as happy.
Beneath my tree of reality,
Sometimes I pause
To let me in.
An alien came to earth called James
Looking for a New Jersey dame
He found one on the soup
Amidst this amazing troop
And revelled at her writing fame
Perhaps it was the most unappreciative gift:
a pen and a composition book wrapped in red paper
imprinted with Santa image riding his sleight...
I expected toys I could play with after school or later.
My sisters received many gifts from leather shoes to wool hats,
and as I held that gift with perplexity, Mother asked me,
" Son, don't you like it? " " I like it, Ma " I replied disappointingly...
" One day they will make you great! She attested with eloquence.
" A teen like me was going to be great
with a pen and a composition book?
How could an ordinary mother have predicted the future so precisely? '
Only an astrologer, or medium could have guessed what was awaiting me!
A few years later, a revelation came to light:
a pen and composition book appeared in my sight,
there in a brown shoe box with old photographs they laid...
waiting for a hand to give them life without any magic wand.