Am I okay, or am I not?
Will anyone see the good I've got?
Life can be tough, people can be mean,
But I'll find my way, and be seen.
Labels and judgments, they're not fair,
But I'll keep going, I'll learn to care.
Even if I feel like I'm in the rough,
I'll prove I'm good, and that's enough.
Copyright © Ariana Pataki | Year Posted 2023
He came to me -
Imperfect –
As was I -
Drawn to each other
By chemistry,
By electricity, not by love.
But a bond wove itself
Between us as we talked.
And we listened.
We learned each other,
And we began
To braid together a lifetime.
But selfishness, fear,
Stubbornness came.
The line began to fray.
Fibers loosened,
Moved out from the center,
Finally we talked,
And we really listened,
We took in love,
And we gave back love.
We learned each other
All over again.
Together we pulled the
Loose threads back
And wove them tighter.
Now he comes to me -
Imperfect –
As am I.
And that’s all right.
Copyright © Barbara Peckham | Year Posted 2021
Fear,
To some,
A chance to
Show character,
While to others, a
Huge adrenaline rush;
Heart pounding, muscles tensing,
To confront the danger head-on.
Opportunity or enemy?
Not truly known ‘til we face that moment.
Date: 1/24/17
Copyright © Bartholomew Williams | Year Posted 2017
I sit and wonder, the reason why,
your the one, he chose to die.
You lived your life, so full of love,
and followed laws, from up above.
Did all you could, for each and all,
no matter who, the big or small.
And yet he came, and called your name,
and left me with, no one to blame.
I'm empty now, and all alone,
I stand and stare, upon your stone.
I remember times, when you were here,
we laughed and loved, and shared a tear.
The dreams we made, are all gone now,
forgetting them, I don't know how.
I sit and wonder, the reason why,
my mom's the one, god chose to die!
Copyright © Beverly Robertson | Year Posted 2024
like steaming water seeps through the openings in the bottom of a colander
the wisdom of ages past is filtered by my conscious mind
leaving all but a few bits and pieces caught in the process
I am ashamed to only share the remnants of the astounding truth that came to me
giving only the morsels that manage to slide through my self-imposed filter
to myself and to others that so desperately need a deeper awareness
surely the unfiltered surge of the power of a great truth would be beyond my mental capacity
if not insulated by the Creator of all intelligence
only then could such truth pass through me to others as I humbly submitted to the source of truth
the harshness of my misconception and the pollution of pure truth haunt me
as I struggle to stop the manipulation and allow truth to freely flow through me
I call upon you the great Creator of all that is asking your acceptance of my earnest offer
Take back the choice so freely given and let thy wisdom and truth manifest through me
I gladly give my freedom of choice back to you and patiently await your will for my life
Then without my filter your Truth will dispel the illusion leaving us only true reality
Copyright © Bill Baker | Year Posted 2021
I strolled into a site,
The other night,
Timid at first
But I stayed,
Timidity quelled,
Impressed by the weld,
I was touched by a heart,
And I prayed.
Stirring and serving,
Of a kindred group,
A yummy delicious new
Kind of soup,
The fragrance of food,
Lifted up my staid mood
And seemingly begged
Me to taste,
I was somehow empowered,
As I ate, then devoured,
the letters in poetry soup
I was hungry I guessed,
I was filled and quite blessed,
And no longer feeling afraid.
There was plenty for everyone,
I had a lot of fun'
There was no lack and no waste.
I relaxed as I read,
And words danced in my head,
And for once I was feeling no haste.
You are what you eat!
I found the words sweet.
Strengthened,
I picked up my pen,
And from a deep well,
rising up to a swell,
I found in the flow I must wade
Welcome dear poet, you're loved.
Don't ya know it?
Welcome to a timeless tight group
You'll cook up your words,
Tales of flowers or birds,
And you'll see that with friends
You've been placed.
Copyright © Bj Legros Kelley | Year Posted 2020
2011 was here but is now gone away
2012 is here now with one extra day
I am not going to make a resolution
Simply because it causes me confusion
Wishing the best to all I hold dear
Joy,love,good health for this year
Copyright © Carol Sunshine Brown | Year Posted 2012
Take a moment,
stop and think.
If you're thirsty,
have a drink.
Slow the pace,
and settle down.
Decide if which,
to smile or frown.
It's up to you,
to make a choice.
To remain quiet,
or share your voice.
To be engaged,
reveal a thought.
Or walk away,
when you'd rather not.
Either way,
it's up to you.
You determine,
to say or do.
And for this right,
you'll surely see.
There is a great,
responsibility.
Copyright © Cary Snowden | Year Posted 2018
Body Of Sky
I search upon
the lanterns of heaven,
the unfolding skies,
arrayed with
precious jewels,
that scar my body.
They fall like
bitter comets,
colliding with
kaleidoscopic abandon,
recklessly haunting
my soul, like ghosts
in the mists.
Nebulae, stitched upon
my eyes set aflame,
faintly searching for the lighthouse
signal, as I thrash amidst
the stormy oceans.
Dead eye's firmly
planted on Zion.
Copyright © Charles Dibiasi | Year Posted 2024
Yellowing leaves of Summer
inevitably prove
the transient
and precious;
Time is still on the move..
Every moment has it's reason
Love and loss.
Joy and Fear.
But the wonder and the truth is..
A change of season's always near.
Copyright © Christopher Grieves | Year Posted 2020
Hyyre n proave
pon sheed unjoad
in hoye ‘n hoyle-howls
befuddled word, o’blite absurd
he gurgled remott’d vowels
Lesp he ‘n shyy
for ryle deride
aggrinn aggurny byy
rillig speech, from creatured-eeb
flowed his otherworldly vibe
So jue a norn
to borrishly
this being spoke in tongue
but wopeth no apology
for such unbridled shrung
It siff ! it siff !
with runniblud
his demon words gave fright
so flee the folk all zetified
and cursed the Blatherwight
Copyright © Clive Culverhouse | Year Posted 2024
Much later
in the
day,
when the
cows
came home,
we knew
we were
Saved.
Copyright © Craig Sipe | Year Posted 2021
Sometimes music
takes you away
a few bars of Sebelius
cuts through the clutter of
school lunch preparation.
and I'm in the fiords
the soul home
I've never seen.
I know little of Finland
and first met Matti
at a meeting in Dallas
where he a two day visitor
argued with the cabby
over the best way downtown.
When we arrived,
he gave an excellent tour
of the corner
where JFK ended.
Later, another meeting.
this time in Wisconsin
as we shared our duty free.
he spoke of his son's summer job
folk dancing on a ferry
crossing the Gulf of Bothnia.
Running the next morning
in the cold spring air
I realized
the big flat winged raptor
high overhead
was an eagle.
Chatting with our four year-old
he explains
that although Godzilla
is a boy's name
she laid eggs
one remains
and do I know
what attack means?
Copyright © D.W. Rodgers | Year Posted 2014
I woke up this morning
to find no sun up in the sky
So I jumped out of my bed
in hopes to find out why
I checked my local channels
but much to my surprise
turns out I’m the only one
with a sun that did not rise
I went outside bewildered
finding neither moon nor any stars
Everything was missing
even Jupiter and Mars
I couldn’t find my phone
and didn’t know what to do
so I went to see my friends
but they were missing too
I ran to the corner
to buy some liquor at the store
but the sign in the window said
“We ain’t here no more!”
I went to get my car
but it’d been towed away
And I couldn’t take a taxi
cause I had no way to pay
My wallet had come up missing
with my cards and all my cash
My refrigerator’s empty
and my toaster’s in the trash
She told me she’d take it all
if she walked out of that door
But I never thought for a moment
she’d pull the tile up from the floor!
Copyright © Darrell Rose | Year Posted 2021
Can you keep up with me?
Not that I’m growing;
But I’m learning each day
And growing my knowing.
Can you keep up with me?
Not that I’m faster;
But with instruction,
Soon I’ll be a master.
Can you keep up with me?
Not ‘cause of good looks;
But I study real hard
With my nose in the books.
Keep up with me
It’s easy to do.
If you do as I do,
Then you’ll do as well too.
Copyright © David Fisher | Year Posted 2013
I was a daydreamer and stargazer, who eagerly awaited calm nights of glitter,
Like blue skies warily turning pink, plum and red, as orange sun sinks, bitter.
I grew familiar with diverse constellations, along the different astral avenues,
Vanishing in the pink dawn of golden, like perpetual lime spring, begun anew.
Mystic planets of my shady, solar precincts, soon became a lot more familiar,
Like dreamy twilights of sweet romance, when the gigantic moon is a thriller!
Flamboyant flowers fumed fragrance, as my friends found me on fun Fridays,
Like jazzy flower fields are ofttimes revisited, to gather up prettiest bouquets.
Fun family was a deep force in my life, like the force making fuchsias flourish,
When amassed together at violet sunrise, to discover what joy they'd missed!
I lived in a house of modern dance, guided by a classical sun, moon and stars,
In glazed golden noon or purple midnight, and ofttimes we'd tango with Mars.
Pearls and sun jewels were ever pouring, along jade scenic sites of my street,
With wandering wind whispering, 'mystery,' below fat clouds moving, discrete.
Names of folk nearby were household words, in abodes of friendly neighbors,
As honey is a household word, inside golden walls of the honeybee chambers.
Sun-sational summer settled on grasses and trees, as it did many moons ago,
In the time of emergent purple butterflies, and misty brown sunsets of cocoa.
Frogs croaked as blooms spread down mountainside, when time was running,
Like frothy, rapid river, ever flowing, under hued chameleon clouds, stunning.
One evening, dusk came suddenly, like the lullaby moon encroaching on trees,
When flashforward fireflies lit up purple twilight, and robins supped on berries.
I felt I had never seen such a gloaming, for dazzling stars flashed in my eyes.
The beauty touched all within sight, like rapturously hued fall, of no disguise.
The moon rocked a mulberry sunset world, with milky stars of my fascination;
And sweet songbird tunes filled scarlet skies, in changing colors of revelation.
Emerald daytime's echo was in a red sun sky, as I felt the unity of all creation,
Like unity of sunshine and mellow time, transforms a juicy grape into a raisin.
And I realized our sky spans far beyond the blue, and clouds of various colors,
So, glowing stars are a real part of us, like myriad people from other cultures!
Copyright © Evelyn Judy Buehler | Year Posted 2023
Moment by moment
day by day,
year by year.
Wind-borne dreams
cascading amongst
perpetual memories,
gifts of light that
penetrates through the
windows of time, the
clarity of it all
giving hope to a
fading prayer.
The village supreme
basks in the delicacy
of a august sunlight,
the moor-side bleak, in the
shadows of a hoarfrost
moon, fluvial waters
jostle amidst ancient
limestone, kisses floral banks
of wooded ghyll. Even
the folk remain incessant,
anchored to an inflexible
pace, bridled within their
time warp of conformity.
With memories to conceive
each precious moment, an
endless reaching out to
embrace a time gone by,
only I it seems, cannot
find a place there within
the dream. “Looking in,
always, looking in!”
© Harry J Horsman 1994
Copyright © Harry Horsman | Year Posted 2010
Tomorrow will be
The first DAY of Forever
I shall enjoy it
Copyright © Hgarvey Daniel Esquire | Year Posted 2007
Season of dream haze and arctic signpost.
Chill and chap brood whose scattered offspring plummet thermal values as welcome mat for “whiskered” chimney guest awash with bounty.
Thief of sun filled days without a twinge but that universal late December rendezvous can’t be thrust off-course.
Primal raw wind howl dissing summer’s distant memory - spotty and erratic though it was.
Deck chair, seat of toil free bliss now cold front recess blob.
Mirage or wishful thinking from a wet weather veteran.
We live in fear of reruns like Ophelia or
2010’s black ice.
Storm Force Brian, Mount Fuji on an airwave shrapnel carrier.
Dormant Loch Ness shadow’s fervent air mass plugging festive tunes.
To fuel dispatch and chimney sweep alike a sacred windfall.
For those who struggle just another inroad on an ever
shrinking pocket.
Yet this annual curtain closer has its grail and saving grace.
Dark art charmer lacing every patch for knee high boot crunch.
Architect of igloo closet ski cap.
Sleigh ride bell upon that maligned feast around our globe (Noel hark the alpine carol)!
Bizarre but only to us frostbite souls aloof from glacial beauty.
Deep freeze spirit canvass may not surface.
Christmas anthems booming over frolic footfall streets adorned by night owls.
Chaser lights that gee up gutted ghost town black spot.
Urban ice rink dome another fantasy or wonderland.
Toy shop stock n trade whose only trade is stock.
Colour coded gadget clutching every cell of window space.
Fashion fodder wizards magic spark a toddler’s glee at every turn.
Boisterous strains of Santa rousing inner reindeers - the sort beloved by children down the ages.
Yuletide decor gift band holly bush spike.
Log tossed on fire, kindling stick incendiary, leaping flame enshrouds smokeless polish.
Punch bowl nasal spice so aptly named rum do!
Skim milk skyline flaunts its snow fleck jewellery aloft.
Stars of astral compass spread their twinkle dash on human garlands.
Winter’s stepwise edging in a whirl plume of slush.
Christmas well and truly has arrived.
NB Polish as in Polish Coal,
Copyright © Howard Kerr | Year Posted 2020
Before his scars
Before his umbilical unsevered
Before the hurricane season
Papa made me proud.
Mama once spoke of comforts
His hands spinned
He and mother were in love
She lend me her mahogany gift
He carved smooth for her,
Papa made me proud.
I loved him in spite of nine fingers
One was severed on his job
I loved him even as he lingered long
I loved him though his presence was cut short,
Papa made me proud.
I watched him dig holes for renewal
I heard him strain, I heard his sighs; our house stood firm
I felt his energy, his passion for family,
Papa made me proud.
He rarely complained as he worked
He worked, and loved, and cried, and drank
He was drenched; spoiled, in Granny's love, yet,
Papa made me proud.
I can only imagine
He would trace many course for healing.
*
Copyright © Iris E. S-Lewis | Year Posted 2015