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Details | Poets Poem | |

PLAGIARIZING

"Mine all Mine!"

A thief I long to be
Your eyes original like the moon and sea

A lover in the world............
An Anthology, you walk and talk like the word "AMOR."

The words you send, I nicely tuck under my pillow
Every note every line you left behind 
I memorized till they became all mine
Word-for-word, 
Unauthorized I scrape the concrete calluses off the tongue
Pirating the perfect dramatic monologue look,
Basking through the passage around your Bio, 
Lost in the musky scent -around the sonnet of your aura light 
Epic enough, I reach inside to feel every idyllic rhyme
A strong iambic meter curse, conjuring up the perfect verse
In you I lift a copy paste from your lips, 
No need to credit the sources in your bliss
The sweetest undamaged sensual memorandum book
A moment I stole and sealed without copyright proof

My dearest Poet, 
When you move across the room
I see a thousand arrows that follow from behind, 
Indulged when you speak and point out verse per verse
I am a victim pampered by your words,
Sponging every line, adding them to my crib notes 
Improved wordplay that infringed my everyday diary
A haiku so tangible, it sets the perfect images in my dream,
Hypnotize after I read your first love poem
A printed feeling--
Borrowed from the sun

pd

Details | Poets Poem | |

Silent Page

Silent Heart

I am sad, I had to break my OWN heart, 
Too many nights, I sat there all torn apart
A dream girl, 
Sitting under its own corrupted auspices sky 
You the poet, in disguise
Telling white lies about, your love for me
Saying I'm a boon from the sky....
A match, a queen, your muse, your everything
I'm no-good, I admit this once more, 
Your advice, I forever adorn 

It's time I follow the crying crows, and praise what is left
Afraid to listen my rhymes weren't cutting it, 
I release it all!
Your smiles, words, and worn out shoulders
I walked away
Silently--
I acted on
Without a word, in a fetal stage I awake
Tonight you carry a tune for others
A story of a man who stole my soul of sins
A poet, I long forever more
Always, you will own the only sound that still beats inside
To live alone, in silence, asleep in my own world
I had to let go, 
-Of him, whose name I whisper in darkness
The only thing that remains, are the echoes of pouring rain

Too many reasons, writer's block, took full moon
You are a poet, from another lifetime, 
Down in Mandalay, I can no longer ask you to stay
Reading everything about my life, yet you can't answer
Alliterating poems, greeting every dark shadow, normally yours
Many nights I waited, long for the moment of my OWN return
Instead,
I dusted myself off like yesterday's verse, yesterdays dirt
Cobweb, remain on my page
My pen now sits like a twig
No motion, since the day I decided I am not worthy of the wait
You the poet, who walks my way
I pressured less of me every day
Like Aspen, a forever winter cold! 
In your eyes, you wonder why, 
I trace the white smoke standing in your place?

To savor your words, once more 
It's too soon to breathe again. 

I hope you understand, 
How can I continue to love, when I don't even love myself?

By:PD

Details | Poets Poem | |

Poet -This Poem is About You

-Dear, Mr & Mrs Poet- 

Do you ever question where it comes from?
This poem's about you, sit down and get a load off 
Tranquilize your pen, take heed to the ecstatic applause 

The things in life we take for granting, in time get worse 
From WHICH' our lives transverse, ascends a deep poetic curse 
You write almost everything, rehearsing every living verse 
Embezzling words, like Martha Stewart, ---NOT YOURS!
Withdrawing from your substance, 
--yielding it to others, who aren't devoted lovers 
Spacing your lines, ready for reader's digest, 
Educating the mind, like Albert Einstein

You paint a different horizon for the color blind,
Drop a note, forecasting the news, that brings, Spring to mind
Your adrenaline, leaves people with a feel good faint.
At this level, Poet you're better than high speed Internet,
Anything that makes you feel this is the real deal, 
Today, you write like there's no tomorrow, borrowing yesterday's clay
Inspiring ink, left to right, feeding the need to breed a poetic degree 
Your dramatic dialogue, deserve 'The Peoples Choice award."

I love the sweet audio, when you lowercase every word
It's done so well, hell, let's never capitalize another word
Reaching a point across, when capitalizing every letter, 
This is your world, take it, manipulate it, with the perfect stanza
Produce it like a poetic film, imagery, action, CUT it like Jerry Bruckheimer 
One day Hollywood will incite a roll, looking for the best poetry soup rhymer

Your tears and affection, you pour on partial paper,
Showing every word you want to enunciate
A SHOULDER-- gone cold, drowning, forgetting the normal way
Writing about the pure religion that meets your light, 
A beautiful flower under the moonlight
Hear the bells, Poe wrote about, adding sprinkles to the twinkle in your eyes, 
A redolent scent not meant to be forgotten, from Eden's garden
Taking nature, by course, granting her a crown, before slamming us down
I will call her out --The evil and the fury of a goddess, a beast
This is my feast, I welcome you to my jungle, and the outer bounds of time.

If you ever question where it comes from?
Sit down and get a load off, listen---Where's the ecstatic applause?
I'm not afraid to say, -----I'm Proud to be A Poet Without A Cause

by;PD
I do it for fun

Details | Poets Poem | |

Super Soupers

It was a rainy day so I flipped through a stack of comics
My Amazing Poet series
Finally I picked the fabulous Five
I liked the picture on the front
Yanny the Zen Master with long black hair
Becca the Creative and Beautiful with her mythical pen
One of my favorites sultry Eileen known as the Emotionator
Anne the Philosopher was right there beside Eileen with her magical smile
Then to round out this team was Vicky Victorious calling from the wilderness 
In this edition they were battling the Poet Destroyer and Joker Jack
who had kidnapped Newbie Timothy Hicks
As I read their words I was in awe of my Heros
They made me cry
They brought me to new worlds
Filled with adventures
Sexy had new meaning
Tears became diamonds
Winds swirled inside my head
All the emotions of the rainbow
I longed to write with such clarity and strength
I tried to flex my poetic Muscles
Worked out every day
Then on the back of the comic
A scrawny poet sat on a beach
Beside the girl of his dreams
He is writing for her when along comes a muscular poet
The big poet kicks metaphorical sand in his face
The the scrawny poets girl is whisked away
Underneath it says
Are you tired of having Metaphorical sand kicked in your face?
Are other Poets getting the girl?
All that can change
Join the Andrea Dietrich School of Creative Poetry
She will have you writing like The Fabulous Five
You will never be afraid to flex those poetic muscles again
So I cut out the back page and sent my five dollars
The address is PO Box 88888 Inspiration California 
Now all I can do is wait
What will the future Hold?


Note there are many Poets here who would appear in my vast Amazing poet series.
Poet Destroyer and Joker Jack are not Evil nemeses they were chosen for the roll
because of their names( also I love their work.) I hope you enjoyed my little tale.
Some of the younger poets may not be familiar with the Charles Atlas ads that used
to be on the back of comics, the rest of you I am sure will get the joke.


Details | Poets Poem | |

FAVE POETS MEET

Meeting my homegirls Wilma Neels
and Kim Van Breda with shrieks and squeals
hasty introductions and we're on our way
for a night of reading at Poetry Café

We've Yasmin to thank for arranging the meet
with fellow Soupers, a veritable treat
Yasmin the sneak had their names withheld
we're apprehensive yet still by curiosity propelled

My fingers are crossed to meet Eileen 
fave poetess mine, the Passionate Queen
dare I wish to meet hamsome Ryerson
not to mention Anne-Lise Andresen?

On first glance the café seems somewhat rowdy
from one of the corners a chorus of "Howdy!!!"
heaven help!!  I'm rooted to the spot
all my fave poets from the Souper pot

The Queen of Passion, my special friend
Eileen Ghali, an angel heaven-sent
with open arms and that beguiling smile
that's touched us all over thousands of miles 

I spot our Father Christmas, Jackie Ellison
Oh my, mercy me, the hamsome Tim Ryerson
then the beautiful being, Anne-Lise Andresen
and our pretty young doll, Anne Poetess Currin

Andrea, crack writer and popcorn freak
and Nette Onclaud, Madame Linguistics
the talented and sweet Leonora Galinta
oh, for a long time I've longed to meet her

There's the much-loved Reach-Out Lamoureux
a stylish gentleman, delighted to meet you
our very own Linda who happiness spreads
memorable the day as Brown Licia meets Red

He who writes poetry with a golden pen
bestest, fantasticest, hamsomest friend
Rich-Heart Seal-ed Door, my bruv from abroad
by his smile I'm bowled over;  by his charm I am awed 

I'm jumping with joy at my fave poets meet
befuddled, bewildered;  who first to greet?
midst the mountain of talent I'm on a positive high
overwhelmed, I simply break down and cry


This one needs a whole lot of polishing and smoothing 
out, but I was too excited to submit it.  I'll iron out the 
crinkles soon.  LOVE TO YOU ALL, LICIA <3 <3 <3 <3


Details | Poets Poem | |

Pretty Poet

Where Have All The Pretty Poets Gone? 

A real poet are you, charismatic over everything you serve
Showcasing, a rainbow that folds the perfect world wide perspective
I'm talking about flawless literature at its best no typos, no muss
Just a page full of boredom and rust
Thank you for having Lunesta all up in my head
It's like reading a poetry lesson, from the extras of The Walking Dead
An image frozen cold, waiting for inspiration to hit like Al Capone
I'm bored of your flora flamboyant language rocking me like stones
A psychedelic trip, into the odyssey of a blind man's tale
A home where I am pushed to open a dictionary & thesaurus with braille
Wondering what you just said, --Hakuna Matata, what a wonderful day! 
  
The best rocket pen poet in the USA Today, 
Launching words like no tomorrow, a fool of wordplay and sorrow
A godlike guinea-pig genius, delegating poetry politician style
Perhaps, one day you will become a famous writer
Burning books, like a cigarette lighter
Until then, enjoy pushing your pen as if it was cocaine, 
Snorting up and cutting up the food chain in vain
Patronizing and ignoring those, for better or worse
A solo cup stuck up another cup, -won't even look my way
Correct me if you will, it's no big deal
Just don't forget to give me the same respect I offer you

Until then my pretty poetic friend, I kneel before no one 

By: ME
5-25-14

Details | Poets Poem | |

Be on Guard Against Poets

My sweet child
My daughter
Be on guard
Be on guard of the man
Who plays on your heartstrings…
Not with flirtatious smile
Nor with flexed muscles
Not with devouring eyes
Nor with intellectual prowess
Or clothes so fine

No, these you can resist
You can set boundaries
And be done
The threat, false alarms 
Their charm easily undone
Your defenses will withstand
The groping hand
The false charm
No, don't be alarmed

Oh, but child
My precious sweet one
Be on your guard
I beg you
I implore
Be on your guard
From the man named, “POET”
A man who wields words
Who crafts and designs them
Like a carpenter with wood...
Who makes them into jewels
With a jeweler’s touch...
Who makes them sweet delicacies
That simply melt in your mouth

He can shape and design his words
To fit your every need
He writes down your dreams
As though they were his own
His words an homage
To your beauty
Your form
The light in your eyes
The way you entice
Your captivating smile
Your dark tresses
Cherry lips
Or the curve of your hips

BE ON GUARD
Oh, dear one
Be on guard
For he means to take you
To sweep you away
In the tide of beautiful rhymes
The rise of fall of passion
Making your body move in time
He means to ensnare you
To capture your soul
He means to dominate 
To slowly undress
Intoxicate with his words
So you forget common sense
He wants you to eat from his hands
Choice morsels of love
While he whispers in your ear,
“There's more where that came from.”

My child
Be on guard
For words cannot pay
Your rent or expenses
Cannot save your day
Words won’t be there
When you cry in the night
They won’t be able
To turn on that light
Words won’t be your lover
With hands nice and slow
That touch you in places
Words can never go

My child, 
My darling
Listen to me
Stay away from those poets
They’ve got potency
They will woo and bewitch you
Throw fairy dust in your eyes
But at the end of the day
Only a few don’t tell lies

My child, my sweet
Get a man who will be
THERE IN PERSON
BODY and SOUL
With hands that caress
And with eyes that speak
Of your body in that dress
Spoken words make you weak
With lips that touch yours
That say you’re divine
That lick from your navel
That sweetest of wine
Stay away from those poets
Be on Guard
Save your life!
For a poet, my child
Is the greatest danger in life
The greatest beauty
The greatest dream
The greatest heartache
The greatest strife
Be on guard
BE ON GUARD
SAVE YOUR LIFE!

Eileen Manassian Ghali

Details | Poets Poem | |

POETRY READING

I cried the first time I listened to the words
whispered    shouted    snapping about 
like flags in a brisk wind     Words being shot 
from open pink mouths in a staccato hail of bullets 
slamming into my barriers     Hairline cracks appearing 
in my armor like spider webs meandering across 
a bug splattered windshield
I cried    even though I was not sure why

Who would have thought there was so much ammunition
being ratcheted from dry throats to be chambered
in mouths    spewing forth in a fusillade of fire
So much raw emotion housed inside ordinary people  

I found life    
emotion    feelings running rampant
bouncing off brick walls
echoing in my sluggish soul
wakening banked embers of a life 

I remember this thing called poetry
it danced through the dreams of my youth
brought hesitantly to its feet when I read
Resume by Dorothy Parker

I dreamed that I could put words onto paper 
and evoke emotion in another person
I dreamed and I played with the words
my new best friends    and drank Orange Crush 
spilling it on my early attempts    
giving them the appearance of measles erupting 
from the white parchment of youthful skin

But the words proved to be too much for me
		too much me
Emotions I did not know I had locked inside me
Fear flowing unchecked in dark splotches
Sorrow ripping the page with blunt forceful strokes 
of the pen     I tried to use a pencil but the feelings 
inside me were too strong to be erased so easily
Now the silence of my soul has been illuminated 
by the sun the poets hold in their hands
I could have ignored soft moonlight ripples 
across my mind    but this sun snakes its way 
into every crevice    finding my imps and demons 
standing mutely shadowed in gray

The homeless beggars on my street of lost memories
are rising up with pen in hand    refusing 
to be slapped into silent submission any longer



Details | Poets Poem | |

Queens of the Soup

I dedicate this poem
To five poets that sing
Their words to the world
They are poets ... everything

Sometimes they are travellers
Capturing mountain and shore
Sometimes philosophers
Delving the depths I adore

Sometimes they are rulers
Tender and just
Sometimes they are lovers
Naked in grief ... and lust

Mayhap they're a joker
Here to tickle my funny
Or slap my hand
When I eat the bunny (that's you PD)

You are painters of magic
And carvers of life
Poetry is everywhere
Revealed by your knife

So, to Andrea Dietrich and Heather Ober
To Laura Breidenthal and Poet Destroyer
And to Nette Onclaud
Wherever you are ...

I say thanks for your words,
Your comments, and inspiration
You are Queens of the Soup
In this poetry nation


*for Sandy's dedication contest

Details | Poets Poem | |

I Write A Poem

I write a poem that will entertain the world.
A poem that will fade someone's fear.
The one that will inspire you to smile.
Something that can make you out of mind.

I write a poem for lovers and friends,
To describe the feelings, how is love moves the earth.
A poem that encourages deads to live.
To keep the sun shines over the fields.

I write a poem that makes the whole world read.
A sentimental of a heart from lover who left.
The adventure of a man who travelled the lands and seas.
The agony of a woman who lost her baby.

I write a poem....
Until my ink gets dried.
Until the sun meets the horizon.
'til there's no tears fall in my eyes.

I write a poem...
To fall in love once more.
To hold the hand of a new lover,
To see the stars, the moon in full bloom.

I write a poem....
Until the last leaf falls in tree.
Then my life fades in the shadow of eve.
And every memories be left in dreams.

I write a poem....
Please care to comment and sealed with  a kiss.
Choose one or two to be your favourites.
And dont forget, fave the author of masterpiece. =D



** 2nd Place Winner in Poet Destroyer aka Linda's Contest: Any Poem #28 **


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