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A List: I'm the Poet -To Carrie

.
                Dedicated to Carrie Richards

I am 
the wandering breeze in the wheat field
the pawn advancing to the eighth rank
the ocher leaves under the window
the One Hundred Years of Solitude
the One Thousand and One Nights
the disappointment of the elderly
the pile of dirty dishes in the sink
the water trickling into the sewer
the hand that calls and defends
the vast ocean that drowns me
the widower feeding the doves
the five drops of Chanel No. 5
the saddest verses of Neruda
the insect hidden in a cocoon
the impotence of forgiveness
the Tango and the Tarantella
the windmills of Don Quixote
the sadness of the hunger
the barking dog that bites
the prelude and the fugue
the glass of wine to share
the illusion of the outcast
the puddles on the street
the new kid in the school
the orphan in the asylum
the color of the shadows
the lies of the politicians
the rain on a sunny day
the message in a bottle
the petal and the thorn
the laughter of children
the blindness of Borges
the feather in the wind
the moss on the stone
the beard of Whitman
the Nuremberg Trials
the door always open 
the underpaid worker
the mistletoe waiting
the hair in your food
the tangerine wedge
the gasp to nowhere
the last surrenderer
the beggar's refuge
the pointing finger
the foam of anger
the broken mirror
the clocks of Dali
the curving road
the trail of tears
the garlic breath
the bitter vomit
the Nazca lines
the lost island
the false note
the joy of sin
I am Death
underwear
buccaneer
sunflower
solstice
silence
sperm
guitar
lover
gore
war 
you
we
I'm  the poet.




.

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23 warning signs that you are severely addicted to poetrysoup dot com



1) Since you have such a crazy drive to post every thought which goes through your mind, you consider posting your grocery lists.

2) You come up with another lame senryu just to post something new(and create a cheap entry for yet another contest).

3) Even though you post everything which comes to mind, post 3+ poems per day, every day, you believe all of your posts to be exemplary pieces.

4) (in relation to #3) You believe all of the "This is a masterpiece!" comments left on your poems, to be completely sincere.

5) You have the tendency to ignore that you are nearing 60 years of age. You put up avatars of yourself, circa 1971, and flirt with nearly every Souper below the supposed age of 30.

6) Instead of having a romantic evening with your significant other, you end up surfing the Soup blogs and drooling over member avatars.

7) After being single for 15 years, a completely compatible person asks you on a date. You decline the offer, end up surfing the Soup blogs and drooling over member avatars.

8) The admin makes an announcement concerning site maintenance, how the site might be down for 24 hrs -- upon reading the announcement, your stomach drops-out, you are filled with a phantasmagoric sense of doom which escalates into a bout of nihilism so strong, you consider methadone treatment to prepare yourself for the upcoming site-shutdown.

9) You begin methadone treatment in preparation for the two hours you will be away from the Soup(and awake)attending your best friend's funeral.

10) Your sleep-time has drastically altered to less than 4 hours of sleep per night. This is for various reasons, one of these being that every week you feel the need to leave a minimum of 1000 comments on poems, so whenever you post something new, the 'return' comments on said post, help push it up the 'Top 100 Recent Poems' list. You consider this to be an accomplishment akin to winning the Nobel Prize in Literature. You are awesome.

11) Instead of watching your favourite soap opera on the booby, you follow the soaps happening between Soupers in the blogs.

12) Every time you get a splinter, you have a strong urge to put up a blog about it to gain support and sympathy during your ordeal.

13) You put up blogs telling members that you are going to be 'gone' for 2 days, and apologize for not "being there for everyone" while away from the site.

14) After not seeing daylight for months on end, you put up a blog about seeing the most amazing thing .... you finally went outside and saw this blazing orb in the .... in the .... in the whatchamacallit, sky?

15) You forget to say "Merry Christmas!" to your family at home, but 'say' it in the Christmas blog that you put up on the Soup.

16) You forget your significant other's Birthday, but remember the Birthday of your favourite 'platonic' Souper.

17) Whenever you see or hear the word "Soup", your palms become itchy and you can barely contain yourself from using a computer/phone to login to poetrysoup.com.

18) You believe that if a poem rhymes, it is automatically a decently written poem.

19) In desperation, your family members and friends create accounts on the Soup, believing this to be the only way left to interact with you. In return, you have your account deleted and open a new one under an assumed pen-name.

20) You make the rounds each new day leaving "Good Morning!" comments on your friend's poems.

21) You go on vacation to an exotic beach location. The weather is gorgeous. The water is wonderfully warm. The sand is splendid. You don't swim in the wonderfully warm water. You don't take in the sights of the beach. You barely even notice the beach. Instead, you log onto the Soup via your laptop/phone.

22) Your children are hungry. You barely even know who your children are anymore. You don't care. *click* *clickety-click*

23) Your significant other finally offers to "do THAT thing"(yes, THAT one!)you've always fantasized him/her doing with you, but until now, he/she has always refused to fulfill for you. Now .... you don't care. *click* *clickety-click* 










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Pink Ribbon

.                    

                    
What the Quack!
I dont want my poems in Poem Zoo!
Quack
Quack
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Premium Member Poem | Details | List Poem | |

Who I Am

My Inventory:

flashlights
high-performance yo-yo
poetry books
fishing poles
ice-fishing hut
regret
pocket knife
sharpening stones
laughter
boomerangs
passwords
life's artifacts
Grandpa's Fishing Hat
hope and joy
Guardian Angel
wooden snow-sleds
more poetry books
olde-tyme-radios
compassion
camping gear
Babar, the Stuffed-Elephant
Angel-in-a-basket
imagination
McCoy Cookie Jars
nature field-guides
forgiveness
Soup-friends
ties I don't wear
family heirloom recipes
suits I try not to wear
treasured photographs
170 poems
antique lamps
my Children's love

......and You

       my Savior

           ....... Jesus Christ

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Patience

Patience

Here is irony.
Patience waits for no one.
We must wait for it. 
It decides how long we must walk or sit.

Patience to wait.
Patience when it seems to be too late.
Patience when happiness plans to elate.
Patience in its most perfect state.

Patience to get the job done.
Patience to walk when we must walk.
Patience to run when we must run.
Patience to be silent when there is 
a never-ending urge to talk.

Patience to live.
More patience than we wish to give.

Patience,
Oh yes, relentless patience.

Patience when pain has taken center stage.
Patience when anger has turned to rage.
Patience to keep writing one more page.

Patience is a virtue.
We all know it's true.

Patience.
Oh yes, relentless patience.

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Gifts

Gifts

Gifts are what matter the most.
Where's the talent without its host?
Where's the paper without the pen?
What is repetition without doing again? 
Where's the car without its driver?
Where's the home without the family?
Where's hope without faith?
Where's the song without the singer?
Where's the vocalist without the musician?
Where's the tune without the melody?
Where are the words without the lyrics?
Where's the music without the instrument?
Where's the orchestra without the conductor?
Where's the production without the producer?

Where's the tree without its root?
Where's the branch without the tree?
Where are the leaves without the branches?
Where are the flowers without their stems?
Where are the petals without the flower?

Where is spring without its showers?
Where is summer without heat?
Where is winter without the cold?
Where is autumn without the breeze?

Where is love without passion?
Where is affection without attraction?
Where is deed without action?

What is math without its equations?
What is a word without persuasion?
Where's a sign without indication?

Where's the line without a starting point?
What are bones without their joints?
What is a body without chemistry?

Everything has a gift.
Everything has a function.
These things work together in perfect conjunction.
Gifts, yes indeed, gifts.

Premium Member Poem | Details | List Poem | |

Lost in Youth

Lost in Youth

Rainbows in the clouds, walking on  railroad tracks , locomotives up close 
Kickball games , I am left footed, spooky reflections in a mirror, running naked 
Wooden desks and chairs, kids in the classroom , the little girl across the street 
Black and white T.V., Air conditioning , a new blue car, exhaust  fumes
The farm, coal fired furnace , warm heating ducts 
a collie , a cocker spaniel and a horse named Thunder
Dark starry nights , telescopes , comets and satellites
Northern winters, snow covered fields ,sledding, frozen lakes , and Orion 
Camping in fields , mosquitoes bites , quiet dawns and heavy morning  dew,  
Grandparents ,riding  lawn mowers , apple trees , flower and vegetable gardens
 Southern Summers , warm muggy nights , ceiling  fans ,open screened windows
Screened in porches, ancient toys, , tiny  transistor radios, baseball games  talking late into the night 
Badminton , side lawns , and long rides home
Public pools , icy waters and underwater swims 
Trombone , marching band and high school football games
Sleepy classes, friends , lunchroom games, and girls 
High school graduation , college and final goodbyes


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spring is in the air

spring cleaning,
spring planting,
spring pruning,

bees, 
butterflies,
allergies,

campfires,
marshmallows,
smores,

spring break,
school is out soon,
happy tired children,

the smell of flowers,
fresh spring rain,
first mowed grass,

just a few of my favorite things!

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eap- The Romantic .

The romantic sees dreams

  At the dusk's sultry light

  For the wrong , that he'll right

  In the pacifists fight

  With the spark he'll ignite .


Inspired by Brian's rhyme time theme ..

| Details | List Poem | |

Wake up



Wave at a palm on the other side of ocean,

Hitch a ride on a shooting star.

Reach the peak of Mt. Everest,

Slide belly down with the penguins from the zoo.

Dust the dusk away 

Sing with stars that brighten even the darkest blues

Watch how mirrors turn to sand

Kiss the thorn of a desert rose

Drink the rain from the highest cloud 

Fall in line like the ants do

Live in a world that is not my own

Wake up…

Carry on dreaming  


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The Morning Chore

In The Kitchen:
Hang a pound of hickory smoked thick sliced bacon Cover the bacon with white paper towel to prevent splatters Pre-heat oven to 350 degree Cover baking sheet with silver aluminum foil Place whole-wheat yeast rolls on the baking sheet Dot each roll with luscious creamery fresh butter Place rolls into the pre-heated oven Place thick bacon into microwave oven to cook for ten minutes Beat-up four eggs incorporating air add two tablespoons milk beat some more Take out that aggression on those eggs Cook omelet in preheated oil covered pan Top that omelet with some shredded cheese just a little Call everyone to come:
Breakfast awaits

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To: Me From: Me

No one is perfect, don’t try to be.
You are who you are, not who they expect you to become.
Dream
Disappointments are ok, we’re only human.
You may be smart, but you’re not wise…yet.
Listen.
Not all humans are bad.
Listen to others, but don’t forget to listen to yourself.
Be open to new things, you’ll like it.
Love is strong word, use it wisely. 
Make mistakes, learn from them.
Be cautious, not scared.
Never mistake a friend as an enemy.
Don’t believe everything you hear.
Speak up, they will listen. 
Create the good times…you’ll thank yourself later.
Remember the good times, they don’t last forever. 
                                                                                                    12/21/12

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First and Last Palindrome!

(I'm really sorry if I left your name off, but I tried to do
 all the premium members I could imagine plus the 
non-premiums with whom I regularly communicate.
 If you are not here, I'm just not seeing you around!)

Adeleke and Amy, Andrew, Audrey, Barbara, Brian, Carol, Caroline, Carolyn, Carrie, Caryl, Catie, Cecil, Celene, Charles, Connie, Constance, Chris, Dane Ann, Daniel, Danielle, Daver, David, Deb, Diamond, Doris, Dr. Ram, Highlander, Elaine, Emily, Faleshia, Farah, Francine, Frank, Gareth, Gerard, Gert, Grace, Joyce, H.G. Iolanda, Irma, James, Janette, Jared, Jerri, Jessica, Jimmy, Joe, John, john, Joseph, Karen, Karla, Katherine, Kimberly, Kristen, Larry, Laura, Linda, Lynette, Mac, Margaret, Marie, Matthew, Max, Michael, Mitch, Moonbee, Nathan, Nick, Nikko, Paula, P.D., Phyllis, Ralph, Raul, Ravindra, Rhoda, Robb, Robert, Rueben, Samir, Sara Sean, Sheol, Sharon, Stephanie, Tavarus, Tim, Tirzah, Travis, Virginia, and Wilma are poets looking great forward and - backward - and forward great looking poets are Wilma and Virginia, Travis, Tirzah, Tim, Tavarus, Stephanie, Sharon, Sheol, Sean, Sara, Samir, Rueben, Robert, Robb, Rhoda, Ravindra, Raul, Ralph, Phyllis, P.D, Paula, Nikko, Nick, Nathan, Moonbee, Mitch, Michael, Max, Matthew, Marie, Margaret, Mac, Llynette, Linda, Laura, larry, Kristen, Kimberly, Katherine, Karla, Karen, Joseph, john, John, Joe, Jimmy, Jessica, Jerri, Jared, Janette, James, Irma, Iolanda, H.G, Joyce, Grace, Gert, Gerard, Gareth, Frank, Francine, Farah, Faleshia, Emily, Elaine, Highlander, Dr. Ram, Doris, Diamond, Deb, David, Daver, Danielle, Daniel, Dane Ann, Chris, Constance, Connie, Charles, Celene, Cecil, Catie, Caryl, Carrie, Carolyn, Caroline, Carol, Brian, Barbara, Audrey, Andrew, Amy and Adeleke
For The Palindrome Contest: Sponsored by Jared Pickett

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My Blessings...

Steven, My Love, my best friend in life,

Parents that support me in whatever I do;

My two puppies Zeus & Eos (both mutts)

My heritage of Potawatomi, Huron and Sioux;

A family willing to lend me support,

A wonderful house to come home to;

A simple world I can call my own,

My siblings, out there to help pull me through;

My horses willing and full of heart,

And all of my friends - Old and New;

My semi-good health and happiness;

And the passion that writing allows me to peruse!

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Counting Every Blessing

I thank our Lord for the blessings bestowed:

There is a roof over my head; I’m not living in a cardboard box
Even though my wound still oozes, my skin cancer was completely removed
My fingernails are unusually strong and I have emery board access
The food I eat may be cheap and meager, but at least it keeps me alive
Although I have metatarsalgia in my feet, I can still walk on them
My feet may hurt most of the time, but the tumors in them are benign
Much free time is mine because little work is available
How lucky I am to have friends who will laugh and cry with me at life’s troubles
I appreciate the ability to love and show compassion
Thankfully, I don’t drool too much when I eat
There is no worry as to how my money will be spent because I have none
I’m grateful I have faith and do not fear physical death
Although my cholesterol is 386, my heart still beats
I am blessed that I have eyes to see, though as years pass my vision blurs
Ears to hear, but people have to speak louder as I age
A nose to smell flowers when obnoxious odors do not overcome
A voice to speak when someone cares to listen
Taste buds that delight in chocolate, but are repulsed by medicine
And most of all I am blessed with a sense of humor


* For Dane Ann’s “Blessings” contest.  (Yes, my cholesterol truly is that high.)

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An Evening at the Home

Written: March 5, 2012
Updated: March 11, 2012


Listen to nurse's report including the news 
that Joe and Wilma like each other.

Check all rooms and find that Roger is out of his bed
and down on the floor again.
  (Hip not broken yet.)

Answer Wanda's light to calm her justified paranoia 
because she knows that she is somewhere other 
than her home but just can't figure out where that is.

Answer Jeremy's light to help him sip his water 
while he giggles at his favorite T.V. show.

Accept his thanks and feel your heart break again to see a 
45 year old man who can no longer control his limbs be so 
appreciative of such a small act of kindness...big act of kindness.

Check on Jack even though he doesn't turn on his light 
because you hear suspicious noises coming from his room.  

Help Jack to bed after you find him swatting an 
imaginary fly with an imaginary fly swatter.

Try to re-position Emma so that she is comfortable 
even though her limbs are fetal-position frozen.

Kindly lie to yourself about her comfort so that you can 
control your guilt when leaving the room.

Go into Jackie's room when she starts her usual screaming 
that "she doesn't want to be here, and her family hates her 
and that's why she's here."

Kindly lie to her and control your shame because you know that 
what she is saying probably is true.

Answer ex-model Mabel's light and listen to her story about 
how she could have married Groucho Marx, but that she married 
her true-love instead.

Feel a sense of sad pride when Anna proudly explains to you 
how she keeps track of her day by tracking her activities as she 
would have for patients when she was a nurse.

Keep taking care of and giving these people (not patients) 
love every chance that you get.

Gail's notes: Portrait of Joe and Wanda is the sequel to this.  To protect the privacy of those who have lived before us, the names have been fictionalized, and the events semi-fictionalized.

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Disguise

Doomed to fail from the start
Denies what they have said
Demands a chance with her
Dancing in masquerade 
Desire frees beauty
Decreeing him her own
                                      Declaring victory          






Let's Pleiades Contest
Tim Smith
4/23/2014


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My Mother

Old mother's pot of soup is 
Like a goldmine that promotes
And brightens my face...
Even it is not palatable to others,
To me it is like apple in my mouth,
Making my countenance rich and sure...


                                          ** FOR COMFORT AKPAN**

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Be Thankful For Blessings

I am so thankful, 
For:

1.    God’s love and mercies

2.    Food on my table and a roof over my head 

3.    Friends and family

4.    Health and strength

5.    Being employed   

6.    The one I love

7.    That he loves me unconditionally
    
If you think you have nothing to be thankful for
Look around you and you will see:

God’s blessings, supernal

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Forever In My Heart

Looking out across the morning sky
Amazed at the beautiful sunrise
In which, I see your ravishing smile
And against my skin, a warm summer breeze
As gentle as your touch, falls upon me

Releasing a gentle sigh
I watch the sunlight glisten off the ocean tide
Reminding me of the imperial sparkle in your dazzling eyes
The thought of your sumptuous kiss brings me to my knees
As a familiar sensation washes over me

In your arms, the whole world disappears
The beating of your heart, the only sound I hear
Our moments of togetherness are in complete unity
You captured my heart, you complete me

The magnitude of the love we share, cannot be denied 
It comes around  once in a lifetime
Wherever you may be, near or far
My love, you will be, Forever In My Heart

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Is This : " LOVE ? "

My Life : FOREVER
 My LOVE : ETERNAL
My Tears :  BLESSINGS
My LOVE : IMMORTAL
My Fears : RELINQUISHED
My HEART : YOURS

My Eyes : See YOU
My Ears : Hear YOU
My Lips : Taste YOU
My Hands : Caress YOU
My Breath : Inhales YOU
My HEART : YOURS

    ( CONTINUED )

Author’s Note :  This is a Birthday POEM
To “ LENORE ELLEN ( Adams ) JOHNSON “
           MY LOVE , FOREVER
              November 4 , 1951

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In Plenty

.



                                             A tree waiting to be planted
                                             Many landscapes I haven't seen
                                             All those books that I haven't read yet
                                             All those movies I've watched
                                             Tangos, Bach, Rock and Pop
                                             What I never had 
                                             What I have lost
                                             Those lips that I haven't kissed
                                             What could have been 
                                             What I couldn't be 
                                             Those who are still around me
                                             Those who had to leave

                                              Each and every one of them 
                                              my favorite things



.

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Innocent night

The innocent night of shame and 
Disdain,
Guiltless night of pains in the 
Vain, 
A bruised night of groans and stains 
Of deception,
Peasing  so deeply and pressing me 
Strongly.
Only God can console me, only God can 
Defend me as he did in the innocent night
Of tears and fears.
Only God can judge and console....


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Poetry is... Art

Poetry is... Art
       by Amy Swanson



Poetry comes in all

shapes
sizes
colors
surprises
varieties
lengths
flavors
styles


About all kinds of

feelings
thoughts
emotions
moods
people
foods
societies
animals
nature


It can be

long
short
rhyme
prose
haiku
quatrain
free verse
narrative
sonnet
footle
senryu
tanka
epulaeryu
.... and so many more-!


Poetry's authors are

from everywhere
all ethnicities
women
men
girls
boys
young
old
adults
kids
tall
short
thin
heavy
average
brunette
redhead
blonde
raven-haired
white-haired
gray-haired
or even no-haired


Poetry is 


abstract
                     or

concrete


playful
                     or

serious


light-hearted

                     or

strongly stated.



It is about

               anything

                             everything

                                               nothing

and in-between.



It is

          word art

                           from the heart.



It can make you

happy
sad
thoughtful
mad
excited
or even goo-goo eyed!


Poetry ... just is.


There is only one thing
              
        Poetry is not ...


                                                          cookie-cutter
                                      same-old-all-the-time-heard-it-all-before
                                                          cookie-cutter.


Each verse as unique
        as the heart that wrote it

Each line as unique
        as the soul that felt it.


And so
simply said:


Poetry is... art.

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Happy New Year Friends

Friends are like icicles,
Sparkling with brilliant light.
Friends are like snowflakes
Each one is different and beautiful.
Friends are like sunshine
They add vigor to life.
Friends are like fire
Each one radiates instant warmth.
Friends are like a fever.
They vanquish the ills of life.
Friends are forever.
Forgiving misunderstandings.
Friends are faithful.
Remaining true through hot or cold.
Friends bring joy to life.
Filling the soul with delight.
Friends are special.
I thank God for friends like you.
…each one as diverse as a snowflake!

Happy New Year, my FRIENDS!

Sincerely, Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen