As father gave the push, my mother whispered, “Fly, my child!”
Resplendent in my feathers, yet was frightened of the wild
unknown for that where I grew up, I had to leave and find
the reason for my wings and claws, and how I can’t be mild.
The rush of warm wind cushioned me as I took my first flight,
majestic bird who gracefully flew to such soaring heights.
From that day on I fed myself and did my parents proud
for they have taught me not to let the prey escape my sight.
For forty years I roamed the land and soared over the sea,
but then the time had come to make the choice that’s hard for me.
Up on the steepest rocky mount, I went and by my own
removed my brittle beak, talons, and old wings painfully.
Why did I have to go through all the changes and the pain?
Those parts were worn and have become my weakness and my bane.
So now that God has given me another thirty years,
behold me after my rebirth, the eagle soars again!
*For those who would care to see,this is a 3-min video on the eagle's painful rebirth
Eagles: illumination of spirit, healing, creation, Divine, Spirit (feathers are sacred healing tools)
PICTURE YOURSELF AS A BIRD POETRY CONTEST - 9th Place
SPONSOR: ANDREA DIETRICH
13 May 2015
Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2015
Inside the Dishwasher everyone rushed!
Clinks, clanks, rattles, 'Ouches' and ' Ohs'!
"Would you pa--lease, settle down!" said Deb--They hushed.
"Now we can hear...let's just see how this goes."
Curious, Peter, looked out through a chinc,
And watched Vie and Chris-- approaching by twos.
They opened the door--and who do you think--
Standing there wearing her fine Jimmy Choos,
Ms Lost Sonnet!--spoke not a word--but winked.
Wilma Wine-Corkscrew, dressed in purple hues
Gave the 'all clear', and Peter spread the news.
"We're having a party Ms Sonnet, please,
Won't you join us? It's a magic party
For Peter", said Ruben Rotisserie.
Bob Blender poured her a drink--quite hardy.
Connie Candellabra was flaming bright
As Ms Sonnet swept past to the soft couch.
Carolyn Cookie Jar screamed with such fright,
"Quick! She's on fire!" Then Lost cried, "Ouch!"
"I'll save her", said Catie Collander. "Here!"
But the water leaked through her like a sieve.
Susan Spatula yelled, "Have no fear, dear!"
Yet, the fire held on and would not give--
Others tried, but could not stop the fire.
Then Peter said, "I wuw twy! I can do it!
With 'Awwy, I can fwy! Way up highya!
Togethwa, we can save Ms Wost Sonnet!
Awwy is my fwend. He tawks funny, too!
He's aw the way fwom Engwand and he is
My Supwa Cape! So I can fwy! It's twue!
No H's wive theaw--his name is wike this:
'Awwy--not Hawwy." So now, they all knew.
"Did I 'ear some bloke colling my name?"
"Yes! 'Awwy, me! We've Ms Sonnet to save!"
Harry Handtowel--AKA, Super Cape--fame
Was now on the neck of Peter the Brave!
With no hesitation quickly they flew,
Smothered the fire and saved just one shoe.
Brittle and weak, Lost needed more than glue...
"She needs magic! Oh! Paweeze! What can we do?"
"Peter...we only made enough for you".
Said Carol Crock-pot. They all cried, "Boo Hoo..."
"Then give huw my magic! That's what you do!"
So quickly they sprinkled the magic brew.
Ms Sonnet was greatful--then said, "Adieu".
"Peter, you've done well," said Anne Assam Tea,
"Let's all have a cup'a tea and you'll see...
"'Magic's believing in yourself, --frankly,
Do that--and you can do--anything!"
*Special appearance by "Lost Sonnet", courtesey of David Williams...with much gratitude, thank you all for appearing ;)...Peter has many adventures to come...big hugs, love you all, cap'n deb
Copyright © Deborah Burch | Year Posted 2012
A Magic Adventure of Peter The Pan/AKA Peta The Fwying Pan
Peter was a fine young pan with blue eyes
Like all the other pans his age, except,
Peter could not yet pronounce 'R's'--he tried...
And 'L's'...so hard he tried. He even wept.
School had been especially hard today
Peter had been poked, teased, and made fun of
More this day than any other school day...
And the ride home took so long on the bus.
When he came through the door, his mama knew
"Why the long face? Are you hurt? Are you sick?"
"No ma'am," said Peter, "Just tiwad fwom schoow".
"Some cookies and milk may just be the trick!"
Mama said, as Peter sat down to eat.
By now, everyone was gathered around
To hear of his day--and sneak a treat.
So he told them his story...and they frowned.
"How can someone be so cruel! Makes no sense!
You are the smartest and brightest of pans!"
Said Debbie Dishwasher-- then cycle rinsed.
The rest agreed and came up with a plan.
"Okay! It's agreed!" said Bob the blender.
"You need magic!--THAT--we can render!
Charles Chalice and Gail Goblet--my dear
Bring what you have, for this magic milk shake.
Michael Magic Grill...you go get us some beer
And also get Peter a great big steak!"
Then everyone sang together with cheer:
"A parr-ty! A parr-ty! It's a parr-ty!
We are all...having...a magic--parr-ty!"
Everyone was busy, hust'ling around.
Tams the Golden Toaster was making toast.
Tex Texas Tea Pot hummed a whist'ling sound.
David Dish and Sara Spoon danced the most,
Except for Marlon Mop--he could 'get down'!
Carol Crock Pot was fixing up the Soup.
Russell Rolling Pin had rolled out a crust
For a magic pie with love from the coop.
Joann Juicer made fresh smoothies--a must!
Suddenly...a sound was heard on the stoop...
"Who could that be? It's nearly midnight!"
Said Cyndi Chandlier all bright with light.
Christopher Cutting-board called, "I'll go see!"
Vienna Vaccume said, "Not without me!"
"Wait!" Debbie Dishwasher cried from the sink.
"Let's look at more options. We need to think.
It could be someone in need of a meal...
Or, it's a burglar--come here to steal!"
"Everyone else! Quickly! Hide inside me
Until we find out who that sound might be!"
*****end part I...conclusion in part II
Copyright © Deborah Burch | Year Posted 2012
Today I passed a shad,
on his way to Prince William Sound.
He protested that I go downstream.
But to the current he is bound.
I encountered a fly on the surface.
But it was the ploy of a man.
To eat me was his plan.
My escape did him a disservice.
Today I came across a bear.
By accident I entered her lair.
Her approaches, she kept deploying.
And her cubs were winy and annoying.
An assault from an eagle came upon me.
From above, the attack I did not see.
A glare threw him off by an inch.
Certainly, I’m lucky to be free
Today the river was crowded,
by comrades going to the same place.
Because of them my passage was shrouded.
And I couldn’t get them out of my face.
My journey has been long.
Against the current, one must be strong.
The objective of my journey may end in vain.
At least, unlike others, I went against the grain.
Copyright © Daniel Carter | Year Posted 2016
Slowly I see the light decrease off your hand
You say love but do you see my eyes
Surviving you is a long vanished pen
As building it through is what I witness
Occasionally you grasp me effortless
This new found conviction is astonishing
As you see my devotion but never entitle it
Perhaps in time you will revolutionize
So I give you my voice to authentic expectation
Love should never harm, as I do find you irresistible
I pray to up beyond but at wish some things aren't precise
So I just listen to a spirit, as my future plays a shipping canal
And this is the power, the power of now.
Copyright © Samantha Withee | Year Posted 2016
Mesmerizing flutters and flourishes
gracefully blow on the wind
drifting, creeping and crawling up and down my back door
I see you hit the pane
slide a little to the left and kiss another
slipping together as your mass melds - swaying as one
As if on dancing on ice
Together you perform
As the crowd thickens
or winds abate
Tired from your escapade together you settle
On the purest white bed
Where tomorrows warmth will warm your juices
Melting you and allowing you to slip away
almost unnoticed you make your exit
Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty | Year Posted 2011
Before reading this one read part one, the story will make more sense.
I felt safe amongst the colorful pages of the comic books wrapped around me. I could hear the little boy say bye to his grampa Cliff, his Grandpa said goodbye Ricky. There was a wonderful bouncing feeling as Ricky skipped out the door to his father's waiting car. As we started driving away Ricky pulled me out of the bag and I could see his mom, dad, sister and brother. As we drove along I learned the other boy was Roy and the little girl was Teresa. His parents simply were mom and dad.
I quite enjoyed the ride, Ricky's dadio had a need for speed and it was exciting passing the slower cars. In this world it seemed all of the other cars were slower. The first town we came to was Larder lake, if blinking had been possible I would have missed it. As Ricky looked through me I marveled at both the color of his eyes and the rugged landscape. Pine trees, poplar trees and beautiful lakes. I loved how the road was carved through sections of rock. The next small town I noticed was King Kirkland, it seemed rather little to be a King. It wasn't very long and we entered our destination which was Kirkland Lake.
Kirkland Lake was much bigger than where we had come from. I enjoyed watching the people as we traveled down Government Road West. I remember driving past restaurants and stores, Dadio slowed down to point out a diner called the Coffee Cup. He told us he had a Barber Shop at the back of the Diner, I was more interested in the theatre across the street. The theatre was called the Strand and I liked the flashing lights on the billboard. Just then Ricky placed me back in the paper bag with his comics so I slept for a while.
Orange Crush III to follow.
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014
If you havn't read my other Orange Crush pieces, please start at the beginning. If you like them consider reading on.
Ricky jumped off the footstool holding me tightly in his little hand. I could feel his imagination coming to life. Within his mind the clear water had turned a brilliant orange and as he drank from me he could feel the bubbles tickling his throat. I felt alive with the possibilities this imagination of his would bring to light.
The rest of the evening consisted of eating and watching images flashing on a square box. It rather bored me because they were in black and white, I much preferred looking out the picture window at people doing their thing and cars driving by. Real life was much clearer and had a lot more colors. As it got darker out, the color all seemed to fade away. I think I prefer day time. Ricky's mom said it was time for the kids to brush their teeth and go to bed. They all rushed up the stairs and I was left on the coffee table.
Ricky's mom was cleaning up and grabbed me and three Coke bottles that Dadio had emptied. She carried us to the kitchen and placed us in a segregated box beneath the sink. Just as she was about to close the door, little Ricky ran into the room and said "where's my bottle" mom responded "What do you want with a silly bottle?" he responded "I like it" His mom smiled, pulled me out of the case and handed me to Ricky. If I were able to smile I would have had a toothy grin of my own.
More adventures for "Soda Pop" if there is enough interest to carry on with the story.
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014
For those who are following this story, here is the next installment. If this is your first time reading, please read the first one and it will help make sense of the story. Thanks for reading my ongoing tale.
After breakfast, Mrs. Burns and the Kids cleared the dining room table. All the dishes were put on the kitchen counter, Ricky placed me there beside them. It seems that it was Ricky's job to wash the dishes. He filled the sink with warm water and squirted in some Ivory soap. As he quickly moved his hands back and forth bubbles started to form. I could tell he was enjoying this a lot. Much to my pleasure, Ricky place me in the warm water. Initially I was floating but then as he held me under the water I could feel my air escaping to the surface. Now don't worry, pop bottles don't need air in the same way as humans. Ricky lifted me high out of the water and allowed the warm water to pour out of me, I felt like a waterfall. As my contents made contact with the waters surface it created even more bubbles. The next thing he did was rinse me out with fresh water from the tap. I was shiney bright clean and he placed me on the counter where I could watch him finish washing the dishes.
It was his brother and sister's job to dry the dishes. Teresa picked me up and dried me off with a soft cloth. It felt soft against my glass and I sparkled in a wonderful way. Teresa asked what she should do with me and Ricky said to just leave me on the counter. As Roy was drying some dishes he accidentally knocked me over. I could feel myself falling, if I could cry out I would have. Somehow Ricky noticed and he stuck his foot out to block my fall. I felt the pain Ricky felt as I struck his foot. Thankfully I did not break and I could tell Ricky was happy as well. Roy reached down and picked me back up and said he was sorry. Ricky's pain was subsiding and he said it was okay.
After the dishes were done, Ricky rummaged through some drawers. He was looking for a cork, after a few minutes he managed to find one. He tried to place it in my opening but it was too large. This didn't seem to deter Ricky, he found a sharp knife and started to whittle the end of the cork. He kept at it until it fit perfectly in my opening. Ricky then went to the Fridge and grabbed some Grape Juice filling me up to the top. Yum yum I loved this new flavor, not as good as orange but purple is pretty darn good. Then Ricky placed the cork and I was perfectly sealed. I was so excited because it meant I could go with him. This would be a very good day.
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015
As requested here is another episode. If this is your first time reading, check out the first one it will make more sense. Let me know if you would like me to continue. Those who are following the tale, thanks!
When I awoke Ricky was fast asleep, being a pop bottle I have no way of keeping my eyes closed. Mind you I'm not complaining, I got to see the most amazing sunrise. I so wanted Ricky to enjoy it as well so I refracted the light and shone it on his eyes. I could tell he was a bit irritated but it had the desired effect, he got out of bed so he could move me. As he walked over to the window I could feel the irritation turn to wonder as he saw the beauty of the sunrise. From that day forward he became a morning person.
Ricky stood there for a while with me held dangling by his side. I no longer needed my glass, I could see clearly through his blue eyes. It was a very nice street and Ricky particularly liked the house across the street. The house had bright white siding and a manicured lawn. There were also planters with all kinds of pretty flowers. The house was owned by an older couple and they didn't have any children. It seemed a rather big house for only two people.
Soon Roy and Teresa were also awake and they all fought to use the one and only bathroom. Mom and Dadio had already left for work, Dadio to cut hair and Mom as a waitress at the Coffee Cup. Their baby sitter's name was Mrs. Burns an older lady that seemed very fond of floral print dresses. She had made her way up the stairs because the kids didn't seem to hear her call them for breakfast. They all ran past her to the dining room table and waited for her to slowly make her way back down the stairs. She may not have been fleet of foot but boy what a great breakfast. Bacon eggs and saugage as well as orange juice. Ricky tried to pour the orange juice into me but got almost as much on the table. Still it was quite a treat for me to enjoy, after all breakfast is the most important meal of the day.
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014
If you are reading "the Adventures of Soda Pop" for the first time, read the first in the series and the story will make more sense. I hope you enjoy.
Ricky ran up the stairs to go to his room to prepare for the days fun. He put on his favorite pair of jeans and a western shirt with pearl buttons. From under his bed he pulled out a leather gun belt that held two cap guns. (apparently the monsters vacate the space under the bed during the day) As he strapped the belt around his waist, I could tell he liked how it felt on his hips. Ricky took one of the guns out of the holster and placed it back under the bed. At first I wondered why and before I knew it Ricky placed me upsidedown in the holster. I liked how the leather held me firmly in place, luckily I had been corked or Ricky would have been wearing purple instead of blue jeans. Ricky then started rummaging through his closet looking for his Daisy BB gun. After a few moments of searching he was happily holding it in his little hands. He shook it and I could hear the BBs rolling around inside the gun.
As Ricky walked down the stairs I could feel his imagination taking hold. Ricky felt as tall and powerful as any real cowboy. There was a certain coolness in his stride, if he had had on some cowboy boots instead of his black canvas runners, the picture would have been perfect. Ricky went into the kitchen to find Roy and Teresa, Mrs. Burns told him they had already left with some friends. No worries after all today Ricky was the "Lone Ranger" and I was Tonto! The adventure could begin.
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015
If you have not read my earlier ones, please check out the first in the series and see if you like the story. It will help this make more sense.
Ricky slowly sauntered up the stairs, as you know most little boys don't like going to bed. When Ricky got to his room I noticed the Bunk Bed against the wall and a dresser on an adjacent wall. Why I knew what these things were is beyond me, perhaps it is a part of hearing Ricky's mind. Ricky walked over to the window and placed me on the sill. This was great because it was a clear night and I could see the twinkling stars in the black velvet sky. The street itself was dark except for a few lights in other windows and an occasional car driving by.
I turned my attention to the room, Ricky's brother Roy climbed a ladder to the top bunk and Ricky got into the lower bunk. I could tell Ricky was scared about what was under the bed. I have to admit I felt much safer being over here on the window sill. If it had not been for the giant stuffed St. Bernard that he took to bed with him, who knows what those monsters might have done to him. His companion's name was Bully and I could tell they had been friends a long time. As Ricky was begining to sleep I felt this falling sensation and he jerked awake. I can't express how that scared me, I thought I was falling and that would not be good, after all I am made of glass. Thankfully a few minutes later Ricky was fast asleep and I drifted along with him. It had been a very good day. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.....
If you are enjoying this tale let me know and I will continue on with it. Thanks for reading it.
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014
I NEVER LEFT YOU
When youthful restless hearts hear defining calls
With volcanic strength they will respond
The impetus for adventure overrides
All rational thoughts, out of window they go
For youth knows no bounds of daring appeal
Twenty I was, when I heard the “buzz”,
With gusto and a lick of good sense I made the run
Carpe Diem was my exalted, exuberant cry
So I followed the path to places to me unknown
To her, I whispered with pain and sorrow
I must seek what the world to my lot bestowed
But be assured that one day for you I shall return
Feeling liberated and not knowing why
Effusive and with feigned bravery I bid to all farewell
The beyond had the smell of fragrant thrills
From America to America my journey began
Imbued with hope, dreams, and strong will
I began carving a new life, a new beginning
Dreams, goals ,and desires within me abounded
To fail was never a contemplated option
For failure the young bravely defies
All those memories of a half century ago
Come back to me in flares and bursts of fading energies
Now that I am approaching the sunset of my days
Wondering wastefully how it might have been
Had I not pursued the Echo of that life changing call
That outcome will never to me be known
But oh! How I long and yearn for that love I bid farewell
My ashes will one day fertilize a seed above that green hill
From that seed a tree will grow into a refuge
To shelter, in hot, sunny or stormy days, living fragile things
Then I shall sleep eternally in tranquil peace
Knowing that I kept, though belated to her my promise
And in serene harmony, proclaim, “I never left you my beloved Brazil”'.
Copyright © Ernandes Fialo | Year Posted 2015
My music breathes! Sunshine tossed on lakes!
Ripples raw…sensuous….buds open up to flower
Fast and slow….tender…rhythms rush like water
Quick chimes…rustic tendrils….feel my power
I rush upon your skin …I tease in tumult
Belt laments of “love me ” on sandy shores
Sunrise skies…tangerine pink burst in open air
Passion’s cherry lips gasp out forever-mores
I am wide open space…fly with angel wings!
On a rush of wind…hear me taunt and drive you
I fling you on clouds too white and soft to hold you
Bathed in my brilliance….painted crystal blue
I fade in bleeding sunsets…song that softly dies
Remnants linger…particles behind your eyes
Author's note:Für Elise in A minor for solo piano by Ludwig van Beethoven April 27 1810.
Beethoven scholars are not entirely certain who "Elise" was. Theory is that Beethoven
originally titled his work "Für Therese"....Therese being a woman Beethoven intended to
marry in 1810 and was also one of his students. However, she turned down Beethoven's
proposal..It is said that Elise might have been a nickname for Therese….
This is such a beautiful piece of music and has always been one of my favorites
Written for Sir Brian’s Fan fare contest :)
Copyright © Christie Moses | Year Posted 2009
The hawk lay upon the lazy late afternoon
Floating, circling, spiraling, ever downward.
Its wings spread wide, white feather-tips splayed.
It teetered on the updraft
above the terraced alluvial plains
in the lea of the Himalayas.
Landing with a compression of desire
upon the crumbling limestone outcropping,
It stood preening.
For the next breeze.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2008
There, .......in the meadow......
trembles my heart....
wide-open for all the
hunters of love to
....frozen, in place....
trying to avoid the self-
perceived dangers even
a slight flinch
This place was once
a garden of rejuvination
and needed space ....
that healed all wounds,
now......an unsureness fills
the misty air, revealing
scattered pieces of what it
is this heart has been
words, like bullets, shot
forth from the trusted
emotion, called love.....
piercing, burning, betraying
my heart of the comfort
that lured me once before
to this meadow ......
A trophy, for an insecure
hunter with no passion of
his hunt?...not .this heart , it shall
return when the timing
feels right...and the clover
does not taste
Copyright © regina branham | Year Posted 2006
For the boy who had gone through his first crush.. wrote by Mrs.Madhavi.Suyog.Pagare
First Crush: Crushed My feelings forever!!
Her epitome of innocence and virtue made me sick.
Friend around me suddenly pricked.
Scene from the titanic in my mind clicked.
I lost somewhere else and she squandered the opportunity.
Crazy girl, You clinged my heart!!
She was suffice so as I.
Looking at her radiant smile, I was blessed.
My feelings blushed on my cheeks.
God had postulated the first law of love.
Was it the infatuation?? Was it the love??
Crazy girl, Your face is glued on my heart!!
Blue whales diving down deep into the sea.
Molluscan shell in her arms, holding the glittering pearl.
Sun and moon playing the game of hide and seek.
God showered the ecstatic divineness.
Love arised from both the ends .
Her expression occupied the quadrangle of my soul.
Crazy girl, Your adorable persona sticked on my mind!!
My friends tagged her as my Queen.
But it was just a mystery.
I waited till last..
But She didn't rebelled the three precious words.
Desperately waited for the moment.
But When i saw her with his boyfriend.
Crazy girl, You killed my heart!!
Just left tears in my eyes.
Each and every memories of mine are fragmentized.
Just left with the ashes of moments that we shared together.
Life just can't stop without being you.
But you are the luckiest one to be remembered for life time.
Crazy girl,My crush,You crushed my soul!! with Suyog Pagare
Copyright © Madhavi Sarjare pagare | Year Posted 2013
Now to the world of the amphibians
In search of my dear web foot friend
A native of all lands with countless fans
Croaks in tears and nears his dead end
Now to the fresh water and pond
In search of my web foot friend amidst the fog
To the rescue i come like the legendary bond
to save my web foot friend the frog
Copyright © Chukwuemeka Mbah | Year Posted 2013
Wind on harbor - on the wing,
a diamond, apple red,
darts and twirls beyond the string
I guide above my head.
Before a line unwound she flees.
Kite’s climb becomes a swoop.
A shift in rhythm of the breeze;
she makes a crazy loop.
I follow at a steady pace
beneath Kite’s streaming tail
as rising up, she starts to chase
A boat with billowed sail.
The sun behind her slides and casts
a crimson light. She glows!
She soars with gulls, pursuing masts,
But then abruptly slows!
Now wind blows cold, and bright bold Kite,
who fancied herself free,
forgot who held the string - and flight
curtailed - draws near to me.
*To list all the poets from whom I have
learned so much here at Soup, I would have to fill this whole page.
Hence I will simply dedicate this to Nikko, for being my closest friend
since the beginning of this whole Poetry Soup experience!
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2010
My gold dream,
So out competing it's.
Sighted by a crowd.
Embraced by few.
Outrank on screen it's.
I love journalism!
Sounds of rockets in netherworld,
Not about to transfix a journalist,
But only sought-after,
I love journalism!
It's a dream in me,
A dream of gold and my cheese!
I want to fit in the press shoes,
Now I got to write, report and broadcast.
Journalism don't gravity me!
All Rights Reserved
© T.m.T scripts
Copyright © Bryan De Poet | Year Posted 2011
NIGHT AND RAIN
Up there in the sky,
Holding on, on so high..
Where the banana
shines and shies,
Smiling night after night
Giving ur light.
In the sad cloud,
Where tears are formed
And the thunder laugh
In bits and drops, it falls.
Then in the morning
Where the dropped
Marked mud against
The face of the earth.
Then children hopscotch
On the playground of
Author; (KESSIE JUSTICE
Copyright © Kessie Justice Amenyo | Year Posted 2012
WINTER FAIRES AND RETURN TO THE FOREST
This is one poem in the collection. They are a series of poems that tell a story. The story is about a war. A battle between wills and power struggles of any type. In this poem series fairies fight for for the sake of sanity. Making life livable even after human traumas. It is the will to survive when chaos seems to be in control. Escapism is the only way for survival of the life in a spirit.
The Fairies bring joy, wonder and a grasping of imagination in order to smile and appreciate innocence in a world of bleakness.
TRYING TO FIND HOME
“Awe,” the radiance; so bright.
Then, follow it, with all might.
The road course shall lead by day
Rocks, turns, stickers and curves
My prejudiced thoughts;
Lofty visions of you.
Fiery images deflect a golden hue.
Imagined you, bronzed, dazzling, and vein.
We danced; then came the rain.
Caught too long there.
Idol thoughts; so dear.
Washed away; with my tear.
My arms bound, and mouth sealed.
Woven. Hey! What’s the deal?
OH, My God! I’ve Been Caught!
The coven’s web intently taut!
The feast I am. His delight.
Oh, fairy friend! By the firelight!
Here I am!
Now the spiders home virtually unseen,
Vaguely tucks into that corner beam.
But, see the dim light, growing so bright?
A fairy severs the silk, so tight.
And, falling from the web of fright.
Still arms tangled by silk threads
Pushing out bracing the fall
The spider and the fairy brawl
Wham, Bam, to and fro, from the deathly fight they bow
Looking, whom’s, my fairy friend? Noticing it must be Joe.
Underneath the spider
Joe waves thumbs up, You’re alright!
Now run like hell! To the light!
Run away little bait!
For, the fate of the firefly might be too late…
©2010 Bonnie Jennings All Rights Reserved FS
Copyright © Bonnie Jennings | Year Posted 2016
I was walking by the loud green bushes
Their rough knees covered with the ash of webs
The whisper through angry short snip-its
As the outer edges of my skin brush past
I can hear them say
She must talk to the dead trees!
She must and she will
Their bustle gets louder in my head
Now I am dizzy stepping on the rude rocks
They are harsh and stubborn
Blocking my path forward
Keep her from the dead trees!
No! let her go she's no good
Not here she must cross
Cross the land of living through
Right on through Dead
Your nothing but stone
Enough stone can stump your growth
Here is Anastacia
In between the argument of the Garden Maze
The Pebbles that skipped on song
Draws near to Anastacia
They all pile up on one another
To take her hand
While the rest of the Garden
Stood in a disarray
Anastacia couldn't believe
How fast Pebbles was carrying her
The Maze is now a lonely blur
So is the raucous of the chatter
So far gone, But where to
Is this the way to the Dead Trees
Yes! Pebbles replied gleefully
How could they have known
What her thoughts said
Magical they stood
Trillions of diamonds
All clumped heavily together
So much it was dangerous
Of what rarity and precious
The black blue swirl grew
The sounds changed
The sound of the swirl was silenced
Closer to the Dead......
Copyright © shane solomon | Year Posted 2014
Nothing is nothing unless you make it nothing/
Out of nothing there’s always something/
Reflecting nothings that made other things become something out of nothings/
Nothing costs nothing long as it’s brought up as something/
In your free moment for nothing/
Your mind starts painting pictures for something/
One picture building another/
Nothing is nothing until something is possessed as something/
Dreams are not nothings/
Out of nothing i made this poem something/
That's a dream/
On the contrary for a sec you believed something i mentioned before this sentence/
This poem is made out of some things/
Symbols, letters that exhale words evolving into something/
Something that grows into language insured and surrounded by sound/
Without WORD this poem is nothing/
Without sound this poem is voltage/
Word is something/
There’s something in word that makes it something/
Loudness off word called voice is something/
Voice is petrol/
Voice is an everlasting gear/
Nothing is nothing unless you make it nothing/
Copyright © Raymond Ngomane | Year Posted 2013
Just Call Me Mr. Spy
I’m from an ancient world, and we have never met, and never will.
However, much like presently, in my day, people lived for the thrill.
I experienced that world’s greatest tragedy, and lived to tell the story.
I am not the bravest, smartest, or most beautiful; but I made history.
People of old loved and laughed, and also ate and drank to the fill.
They bought and sold, not worrying about who would pay the bill.
They fell in love and married; and separated, adulterated, and fornicated.
They detoured from their ancestors’ standards, and greatly deteriorated.
Yes, they were civilized sometimes, but also immoral and very violent.
It’s predicted that your world will be just like mine, before the Second Advent.
They were liberated, sophisticated, and also educated in their own way.
They were warned, but never bothered to change, until a deluge came one day.
There was an old man with a wife and three sons, who also had wives.
They worked hard and loved everybody, but also lived good and clean lives.
I know all these things because I was there, observing and raising my family.
That is, until the old man brought me and others into a big boat he built for his family.
You see, I was Noah’s raven, and was blessed to go on that world’s greatest trip.
And you can call me Mr. Spy, because I was the first one to leave the big ship.
03042016 PS Contest, A Tomb of Ancient Bloom, Justin Bordner
Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2016
All my life is
is a story.
And I get to tell it.
What more grace could one be blessed with?
Days when life doesn't suck feel different than days when it does (do do do do-di-do do)... dontcha know?
Copyright © Nancy Jones | Year Posted 2012
Note: This is a game for all seasons'... The End Game
The Lords' Arch Angel stood
At First Base
As the Angels'
Took the Field
It was just after supper
The crowd's just have had
Their ' LAST ' Meal
Jesus was at Short Stop
Usually He takes' the Field
Where God had gave
Gift's of everything
Fore this was Thy Will be done
As the Angles' sang
They suddenly took the field
Their was total silence
As the Angles' began
Fore at hand was a Prayer
I could really feel
As I Looked at Home PLATE
I thought that it must
Have been a big mistake
Fore all over the park
I clearly saw that
The 'PARK' was Dark
Yet, their was light
All over the PARK
Then I could hear the
Sound of the HARPS'
I knew that it was for
This I could tell from the Glory
And by the Holy LIGHT
The the LORD was with us
With all of His Glory
******TO BE CONTINUED******
Copyright © Gary Fields | Year Posted 2012
Through the lonely jagged road
Beneath the shades of thorny trees
By the precipice of the mountain-top
Against the mighty winds and waters
Lead me, and I will go.
Away from the borders of my father land
To the dry, hot desert land
To a hut, a perched house, a tent
Among a people of unpopular culture
Lead me, and I will go.
With a melody in my heart
A Word of Truth for my mouth
Daily bread for me to feed
An Angel to take the lead
Lead me LORD, and I will go.
Written & Authored by:
Ebenezer Olasunkanmi Akinrinade
Copyright © Ebenezer Akinrinade | Year Posted 2013
I sit silently in the garden,
while you humans watch TV.
No mercy for my fellow gnomes,
to you just statues soaking in the rain.
During the day I remain still
with my fishing rod in the pond.
After so many years,
still not caught anything!
Oh to be a gnome in England,
we rarely see much sunshine.
Patiently, I wait for twilight,
for mystical beings to appear.
Midnight breeze carries fairies,
attracted by fragrant flowers.
They sing magic into the air,
that heals only those who listen.
As pixies sprinkle their magic dust,
temporarily I come alive.
Party through the night, dancing and singing,
until sunrise, then it's back to sitting in the rain!
29 June 2016
Little People contest by Shadow Hamilton
A poem about your garden as seen through the eyes of the little folk.
Use the following words
flowers, fairies, pixies, gnomes, party and sunshine
Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016
I woke up this morning
Went to the kitchen
Looking for some-thing
For this morning
I was on a mission
I went in-to the Cabinet
To open my favorite box
It was closed and It was sealed
I shook it, yet
I could not hear...
Surely they were gone'
And so was my last beer'
Fore there in the box
Their wasn't a sound
So, I placed it on the table
Then I sat down,
Only something was strange
I couldn't figure it out
So, I clinched my mouth
And dumped the whole
I was looking for some-thing
That sweet taste for my mouth
But, that nice crispy cereal
With-out a doubt...
I ran to the bed room
And looked on the floor
Their was an empty bowl
The milk was still cold
So, I was perplexed
Didn't know what to say next
My EX was sleep
On her mouth I could smell CHEXS
But, what could I do
Cause I wouldn't go near her
Was this a thought
Or could it be real
It was so...
That was my best meal
My ex-GirL fRiend
Has just killed my last
Box of CHEKS
What will she do next
Heavens' why me
She is a Cereal Killer
Can't you see?
Copyright © Gary Fields | Year Posted 2011