Had a dream
All was not as it would seem
A country afraid to make war
Became a store
Started selling their war tools
To unsuspecting needy fools
The people were wise
So they made their bombs in disguise
Hid them well
No one could even tell
Phones
Drones
Metal Clones
In plain sight they did hide
On that electric bike you ride
Like an ever spreading tide
Spreading their ware
Without a care
People paid for their own doom
Hey I will put this clock in my room
My wallet is nice and fat
Send me this send me that
That robot vacuum is where it is at
This laptop is as cool as can be
Hey they give away tablets for free
Do you not yet see
A phone next to your ear
May give you reason to fear
This electronic gizmo you now hold in your hand
......Understand.....
This plan they nurture
Someday in our future
The time becomes right
Who knows if it is day or night
They set their plan in flight
Boom
Goes your room
So starts our doom
That fancy car
The explosion was felt so very far
It lit up as bright as a star
Into chaos we are hurled
Around the world
Civilization brought to its knees
I can still hear the pleas
In both land.and the shining seas
This could or could not be true
But it is something they could do
Can you now see the light
They could win without a fight
Copyright © William P. Harris | Year Posted 2024
New Beginning's
The night sky closes,
And the dawn's light begins.
Dew forms from the night set,
And falling in the morning sky,
Covering what lies beneath.
The wind blows softly,
As clouds roll through the sky.
The sun, peeking back and forth,
From the horizon of nature
In the skies journey.
The fields, now glistening with dew,
That sets the new beginnings.
The flowers drink the dew,
That lies on their pedals.
New growth begins,
From the dew lying to form the nature.
And now, the new beginning has begun.
Copyright © William Darnell Sr | Year Posted 2013
The purple cat hides
Under the dark rainbow bridge
Looking for color
Copyright © Wendy Stein | Year Posted 2024
Where are we headed? I know not where
Where are we headed? I know not why
Where are we headed? I know not how
Where are we headed? I know not to whom
Is it better to know or not to know?
Is it better on my own or with you?
Is it better if you come to me or I go to you?
Wonder is an aphrodisiac that may lead me to you
Surprise is not enticing but it may lead me to you
Uncertainty is terrifying yet exciting and it may lead me to you
Where are we headed, me and you?
Where are we headed? hopefully not to doom
Where are we headed in this world and how will we bloom?
Copyright © Theodora Miranda | Year Posted 2021
One-eighty billion dollars one man has, they say.
It is outrageously obscene when once you know
half the global populace earns two bucks a day.
Due to lack of healthcare; they have no way to pay;
ten-thousand people every day will die, although
one-eighty billion dollars one man has, they say.
While one percent dine happily and put away
three-thousand dollar bottles of the best Bordeaux;
half the global populace earns two bucks a day.
The underpaid, poor women, who have no gateway
to education; stuck in sweatshops, they just sew.
One-eighty billion dollars one man has, they say.
"We can't afford the taxes" all the rich; they bray
they lobby, legislate to keep it all, and so
half the global populace earns two bucks a day.
Humans have capacity; to this all allay
it's twenty twenty-four for pity's sake, yet lo;
one-eighty billion dollars one man has, they say;
half the global populace earns two bucks a day.
Copyright © Terry Miller | Year Posted 2021
Golden-flecked bliss
of enraptured blown-kiss
stardust bestrewn
beguiling skies
bespangled sequin eyes
shimmer in swoon
in midnight hours
from celestial bowers
lift blest voices
balmy hymns calm
serenity’s sweet psalm
saints’ rejoices
O, motherly
heartfelt heavenly night
lullaby my lustrous twilight
Love - swaddle me
in starlit cocoon’s blue
singing silk songs till dawn’s debut
ambrosial dreams
showered in jasmine streams
angels’ water
immerse in sleep
your virtuous well deep
baptized daughter
melodic sky
divinity’s stars sigh
spiritual
nirvana floats
seraphs’ musical notes
air's lyrical
O, motherly
heartfelt heavenly night
lullaby my lustrous twilight
Love - swaddle me
in starlit cocoon’s blue
singing silk songs till dawn’s debut
Copyright © Susan Ashley | Year Posted 2017
I am here now
Presence my companion
Rising I put my two feet
On the ground
I give thanks as I open my eyes
To this new day
A divine delicious smile
Trickles upward animating my mouth
How glorious to be here
At this moment in time
Sacred simplicity guiding me
A gift to inhabit this body
Having the depth of consciousness
To appreciate tiny nuances
Wonderous offerings
Arriving on sunlight’s crown
The gift of vison, heart, and soul
Awaken effervescent bubbles
Gratitude’s golden silk
Tickling my tender skin
Footprints of change
Always in motion
Mapped out before me
A constant ripple in a
Reflective glistening pool
Closing my eyes
I see you by the campfire
Gold crusted amber glow
Sculpting your face
Lips parted slightly
Dancing shadows on your forehead
I long for you
A deep belly laugh
Tears brim my eyes
Remembering that magical moment
Illuminating our shared joy
The rising sparks from the fire
Unleash memories deep
Within my molten core
A baby crying in the distance
The vibrations encompassing me
The slow steady drumbeats of our ancestors
An opportunity to dig down
To release old wounds
Only I have the key
Fly away ... I have no need for you
Gliding on newborn mist
Born in ocean’s womb
Rising to great heights
Arriving in the world of tomorrow
I kiss the salt-stained cheeks
Of the wounded
Lending a helping hand
To the downtrodden
Walking through the valley before me
I marvel at the weathered cliffs
Crags and crevices plunging
Down.....down
Spooning riverbanks
A gentle sway
Waters lapping luxuriously
Without a care or want
A twinkle awakens
Teardrop tapestries weaving light
On water’s surface
Mystical movement
Its sheen seeding love and purpose
Deep into my heart
A beckoning call from cliff’s crest
A cradling chant infuses itself
Into my being
Kai kai kai ooo har Kai kai kai
Passion riding on desire’s whisper
Cloaked in lavender silk
Sounds so full and rich
I cannot resist receiving them
I feel the heat rise up
I see gathered before me
Life ~ Love ~ Loss ~ and Rebirth
A joyous silken rain woven by
Goddess spiders
Threads of compassion
Pulsating in iridescent
Lime, turquoise, and peach
We all pause
The multitudes of mankind
The creatures of light and sound
The furry beasts
The winged ones
Gazing up we raise our arms
Towards pale violet clouds
Winks, half smiles and collective breath are shared
Bursting into song
We open our hearts in unison and
Capture the quenching raindrops
In our mouths
A gift from above connecting us all
In a shared embrace.
Susan Lawrence copyright 2022
Copyright © Susan Lawrence | Year Posted 2022
Three brothers went out to have some fun quick.
The capped one’s magic made ghouls in a flick,
wide-eyed one froze, lest turned prey,
lad with lost teeth looked away.
They got accolades for Halloween trick.
Copyright © Subimal Sinha-Roy | Year Posted 2024
It is a cold road to my mother’s house.
I have driven it hundreds of times and each time it seems to get colder.
I have cranked up the heat, yet the cold is like a knife slicing through layers of stone
Until it finds a weak place and then it attacks with the furor of a wolverine
I have never been warm on that road even in the green apple days of spring
I guess that I always knew she was waiting and that waiting brought goose flesh to my soul.
She won’t be rude or cutting or even disrespectful; however, she will be aloof and inapproachable on any and every subject that might interest me. Her interest is of a short list that only an evil woman would cultivate.
A list about the woman that I have known or perhaps will know and when she means known she means it in a Biblical sense for Christ sake.
My indiscretions, affairs, and failures all bundled neatly into a package to be air mailed in a whim.
And yes mostly the failures make her bubble like the cheap champagne she buys for such occasions.
To know that I have not succeeded make her giddy with schoolgirl excitement, for I was always the enemy. I was the one child that could see through her guise of proclivity for the prudent and call a ***** a *****. I never said it out loud, but she knew that I knew. They say the first son is the closest but the second son learns things about both of them that they don’t think they are sharing. And If, just if he is smart enough he will find their weakness and teach them how to love him. Sometimes that love takes threats and hidden innuendos but hey nobody every said it was going to be easy, right?
I am that second child the one left behind. It wasn’t like the Marines; you know that whole no man left behind thing. It was more like good luck your on your own and to that principle I live my life today. No matter how many people I am surrounded by I always feel cold and alone. There are people that love me, but somehow they don’t seem to be the right people. I love them back as much as I can in my dysfunctional pathetic way but they always feel uncomfortable. I have a better chance of intimacy with a slug than a human being. No child left behind. Where the **** was George W. Bush when I needed him. Probably pulling that silver spoon out of his ass.
As I approach the house the temperature drops to a low that I have never felt before. I knock and then enter without waiting. I call out “Mother are you here?” I get no response. I know she has been ill so I walk down the hall to her bedroom. It seems like an ice cave. The closer I get to her door the colder it gets. I swear there is smoke coming from my mouth. When I finally reach the door I knock…. nothing. I turn the frozen knob slowly and push the door open. And there in the bed is my mother, dead, and dressed in her wedding gown. I am taken aback by the spectacle but then I realize that she must be bigger in death than life. She does not want anyone to forget what she was worth to the family.
I suddenly feel lonely and lost. I never knew this person. The one person that brought me into this world. I look at faded pictures from time gone by and wonder who was that person that raised me. That breast fed me and changed my diapers and made me the person I am today? How did we end up here? Devine intervention. The path less travelled? Suddenly I am for once without words. The granddaddy of all hurt as laid his axe between my shoulder blades. I go down and come back up gasping for air. My mother is dead.
And all I can think is “Praise the Lord and pass the Mescaline.” I am at last free.
Copyright © Stephen Kilmer | Year Posted 2013
Solomon Cook
1820 – 1900
It was a miracle.
I entered this wicked world with
Mother’s umbilical wrapped around my neck like a noose,
Inside a cold cabin made of stone.
My mother,
A beauty of burden,
Chopped the wood
And served chicken neck soup on special occasions.
My father taught me stories from the Bible
And swatted my behind with a strap
If I slept in past 6.
My eight siblings and me
Worked the fields from the rise of Phoebus at dawn
To the fall of the day’s eye at twilight,
And we barely had enough to eat,
Except after the harvest.
I taught myself to read at ten years old
And as a young man
I travelled by steamer as a swabby
To Europe, Asia and Africa
And I took in the local colors like one of Twain’s tramps.
I met many women of questionable reputation
In many exotic ports-of-call.
But my one true love was my wife of 42 years;
My lovely and patient Pearl.
By train and stagecoach
We came to this quiet Quaker town in 1892,
And lived in the white Queen Anne on Olive Street.
Pearl and me walked on many a Sunday morning
To services at First Christian,
Shaped like a cross,
And together we smelled the gardenia blossoms
In Pastor Crain’s eccentric garden.
Why, my Lord, did I have to live so long?
Why did I have to watch my wife and friends die before me?
And why, my Lord, was it a simple cold
That finally stopped my old lived-in heart?
And now I am resting in peace at Clark Cemetery
Under the sprawling sultan-like fronds;
Under the magnificent golden nucleus
Of a single desert palm.
Copyright © Stark Hunter | Year Posted 2014
Your kiss from heaven caressed my cheek.
It made me feel safe, yet a little weak!
Confusing thoughts ran through my head.
Is this for real, or just misread?
With the Risen Son, they claim I’m new!
But in my mind, I cannot construe!
I’m not standing on a small hill.
I’m still climbing, I just can’t be still.
That little hill became a mountain.
In my heart I cry out, shout’in!
“If the Risen Son has made me new:
Then why am I so sad and blue?
In the dawn of day, I just can’t see.
The dark of night won’t let me be!
This parched ground makes me athirst.
From whence will water be dispersed"?
With the Risen Son, newness falls!
And with it profound wisdom calls!
Your kiss from heaven is slowly fading.
In my mind, Satan is indeed raiding!
Oh my goodness what can I do?
I think I heard, spend time with you?
I just don’t have much more to lose.
I guess my bible I will use!
Many years, have since passed by.
But that kiss, still makes me sigh!
O’ that kiss, that touched my cheek:
Made me strong and not weak!
Because of it, inspiration grew!
With the Risen Son, can I be new?
I know from heaven your kiss came.
And with it, you took all my shame!
I gave nothing in return
Yet, for my heart, you did yearn!
In the Risen Son, I believe I’m new!
Could this really be my point of view?
Yes Yeshua, you have made me new!
Your kiss from heaven pulled me through!
You gave me strength within my soul.
In my life, I give you control!
I am now your devoted wife!
Jehovah, your kiss changed my life!
Stacey Brown
9-11-2013
Copyright © Stacey Brown | Year Posted 2013
Selectively forgetful,
That's what my mother says -
When I'm called to do some work,
I escape in funny ways.
I'm running short of time now
But I'll tell you all I can
Of all my weird excuses,
Perhaps the worst made by man.
''Can't hear you!'' I'll just say,
''Cause the fan is way too loud''.
And then I'll hear the footfall
Like a crashing thundercloud.
Another thing I say is
''Just wait, I'm coming along,''
Then my dad comes up and says
''What you are doing's wrong''.
Those two are the most common -
See, I'm capable of much much more,
But my storybook's now being snatched out
And thrown through the bedroom door!
Copyright © Sneha Rv | Year Posted 2014
Remember the people
Whoever they are
Wherever they are
Whatever they do
One solution is no solution
Remember the people
Copyright © Simon Rogerson | Year Posted 2025
Snow is falling, Bells are ringing
Children gather,to go carol singing.
Men in the pub, drinking their beer,
While mother's are baking, it's that time of year.
Tomorrows the last day,to finish the shopping,
No time for rest,no time for stopping.
Hustle and bustle, shoulder to shoulder
Snow getting deeper, feeling colder and colder.
Nearly all ready, children bathed and all fed
Half an hour more,and they're going to bed.
I send them upstairs, excitement in the air.
Great to be young,and not have a care.
At last I can relax, with a coffee by the fire
Still a lot to do, before I can retire.
Presents to wrap, trifle to make,
At least I've already made"the Christmas cake"
The veg is all peeled and sat in the pan,
I didn't realize how tired I am.
We do it every year,at this hectic pace
But it's all been worthwhile,
For the smile on their face.
Copyright © Simon Hamill | Year Posted 2020
What could I say that you don't already know
One last word to share with you before you have to go
After 9 years of being loved and loving everyday
Was there really anything at all that we have left to say
I loved you every second, every moment since we met
You had the strongest sweetest soul I've come to know here yet
I think my greatest comfort since we met until you passed
Is I know I spent my time with you as if it were my last
It really didn't shock me that you didn't stay so long
The angel wings you flew in on have always fluttered strong
It's funny when I think of all the things I did, and see
If I was here to care for you or you to care for me?
And so it's time to say farewell I'll do the best I can
Until we're reunited my soft, sweet, bossy little man!
Copyright © Scott Harris | Year Posted 2014
Thanksgiving Visitors Come From Away
Hands once separated
By history on shores of distant oceans
Entwined again on a blustery November morning,
Meeting beneath a song
In the shadow of a steeple thrust
Into a brilliant autumn sky,
Uniting visitors from across the pond -
Traveling like new world explorers
Canyons grand, rocky mountain majesty
Rocks of pilgrims, terraced vineyards
And a golden gate -
With a stranger sharing common legacy of the days long past
Welcomed to a home in friendship
Knowing though a cozy shelter place awaits,
As Thanksgiving rushes toward the city by the bay,
On this harvest celebration
A family waiting beside a warming fire
And a groaning board of roasted turkey, pumpkin pie,
Sweet tart cranberries and potatoes mashed together
Unavailable as chefs and innkeepers share the holiday
With sons and daughters, brothers, sisters
And other fathers, mothers;
No chair reserved for strangers
From another land at the table
Until a hand extends an invitation
To share the festival of bounty
With unknown hearts at a table,
Always ready to set another place,
Awaiting laughter wrapped in a tradition
Of jokes and stories,
The savory scents of a new song sung
By hearts reunited –
Bowing heads to the words
Of a harvest grace
Gathering hands separated
By more than wider oceans
Hearts forever linked in memory
By a blustery November holiday.
Date Written: 11/13/19
Contest Entered: Strand Choice 6
Date Judged: 1/26/20
Copyright © Sam Kauffman | Year Posted 2019
The Lay of The Best Man - Part Five
Have you heard about the bespectacled man who wore his glasses to bed?
Because when he awoke mornings his dreams were all blurry in his head.
And what about the obese man who wanted to lose weight the easy way? Know what he said?
‘I’ll increase my carnal pleasures with the wife instead, and … kill Two Stones with one ‘Bird’’.
Foolish men. You sprint where Angels fear to tread and tell the Devil to go to Hell
Still, were it not for you, this world would be devoid of heroes; that much I can tell.
Please bear with me while I expose your moroseness and clarify your moronity.
Why a pained death aged 100, thanks to science, rather than one at 80 with dignity?
Have you ever thought that always being prepared is the best practise to perfection?
Is it not better to strive for something beneficial, even if in vain, than to take no action?
Do you really think that microbes cannot control your behaviour? It’s all about survival.
And how does anyone know that microbes are not averse to smell or sound? Fiction or factual?
The proportion of water covering the Earth is the same as within the human body.
But tell me: How many find this not to be the strangest unlikely parody?
Also, how come the natural colours of the Earth are the same colours as man’s eyes?
All creatures, great and small, mourn their dead, so why can’t trees? No matter the size.
If a tree can make sound and move, breathe as you breathe, and grow like you grow,
Why then should it not see like you see, think like you think, and know as you know?
Oh yes, the ‘convenient’ Christian; please ask him to quote the Fifth Commandment.
......now watch him squirm as he feebly pleads the Fifth Amendment.
Many fail to 'Beware the Ides of March', deferring instead to Medicine and the Holistic
When in truth they should be referring to His Rod and Staff: The Holy Stick.
Your Scientists talk about Gravity and viscosity, sparks and quarks, and the Quantum feat.
But let’s be clear there’s another force, a human force; ….pray!! …..never the twain shall meet!!!
I reaffirm my avowedness to defend both the woman and the child.
Not only this, but also to defend the destruction of creatures of the wild.
In an ideal world the man would take the lead for an exemplary life and be beyond reproach
Instead his despicable ways is far from impeccable and he is not much better than the cockroach.
He swats the fly and and butchers the whale, ….and he must kill that Killer Bee.
But strange as it seems, he courts the ‘crims’, recidivists, …and leaves the killers be!?!?
Remember this: one has no choice in their gender, colour, or sexual orientation.
So please stop your hating, constant assaults, malice, and casual discrimination.
I am what I am by virtue of Life’s choice and mysteries unknown.
Just as you are what you are - by what Nature’s seeds have sown.
Be witness: If I have hurt no man, woman or child; not a tree nor creature free; I leave them be,
Why then should you hate me? …when you should be hating yourself for hating and mocking me!
The earth re-heals it’s good heath with fire, brimstone and seeping magma.
The Man repels all good health, many are covered in filth - a sapping stigma.
Like a growing infestation of fungus and mould, their flesh obliterates Earth’s surface
Much worse than this: this festering eye-sore sore I see has even contaminated outer space!
I do see ‘ups’, but saw more ‘downs’; like a see-saw ..repeating; man seldom learns from history
Understand this: every single life, no matter how brief, has it’s own story. so give it due glory!
Remember Mr Good Character who, oblivious, crushed Aunty Ant, the bug?
Well, one day as he strolled, oblivious, he got assaulted by Mr Nasty, the thug.
Now, just like the bug he realises this world is filled with unprecedented dangers
And has learned that he has no rights when dealing with unpredictable strangers
“Now you see me, now you don’t …Karma, karma, karma”, cried the Chameleon
“Welcome to my world. “Welcome to a world where men live in oblivion!”
A man is not what he’s meant to be because he just exists, rather than live.
A man will not think as he ought to because he’d rather contend and not believe.
A man does not do that which he’s meant to do because his heart rules his head.
A man cannot act as he should because of his selfishness, greed, manners of dread.
Men can easily pretend - or even be naturally good
Still others, though genuine, are so often misunderstood.
But I’d claim that - (though it will your spirit dampen)…
‘A good man is simply a bad one waiting to happen’
So here is a truth - the truest TRUTH you’ve ever heard
That most men are BAD…so ALWAYS be on your guard!
p.s. …oh yes, …and some women too!
Copyright © Robert Amure | Year Posted 2015
Each morning, for several years,
We’ve fed the squirrels and birds.
Oh, the fun we have watched
And the beautiful songs we've heard.
Families have started and grown.
Once two squirrels, now eight.
Cardinals, among many other birds,
Know feeding time….are never late.
Cardinals mate for life and prefer
A permanent nest to call their home.
And if food is readily available,
Even their young won’t roam.
So, now our trees are filled
With morning Cardinal song.
Our cats are old and fat.
All is good and life is long.
A bigger Cardinal, I call him Big Red,
Is first there every morning.
I think he’s the elder whose job it is
To sing out his ‘OKs’ or issue warnings.
He watches from the trees as I feed.
He used to hide, but no more.
He’s been coming closer lately,
I guess by now he thinks he knows the score.
This Spring morning was so ideal;
So, after feeding, it was coffee on the patio;
Watching all the critters nosh
As they come and go, come and go.
Quite suddenly, not even ten feet away,
The big Cardinal landed on the patio.
Surprised as could be, I was very still.
“Hey, Big Red.”, I said, sure that he would go.
He stood his ground, giving me the eye.
I could see his mate on the fence,
Watching so intently,
Probably wishing he would fly.
Slowly I lifted my cup in a toast.
“Cardinals rule.” I said quietly.
Then, something very special happened.
For a time, he sang....to me.
It made me very happy.
Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2015