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I am black and I say to kindred spirits
Do not say "things are the same"
That is the ultimate dishonor to our fathers
See the hidden figures of the past
We no longer must hide, things ARE different
Do not keep blaming injustice, it is human
Wait for the help of the oppressor, madness!
Why would the slave ask the slave owner for the key?
Take it upon your educated selves, to advance
If one hidden figure can succeed, there are no excuses
If one hidden figure of hue has engineered, why not you?
Do not say "things are the same"
…it is the pinnacle of ignorance
….it is a disgrace to historical perspective
...it is a dishonor to our hidden figures
Copyright © Akua Lore Zaan | Year Posted 2017
I stumble blindly in the night
Down a darkened hallway where
I'm drawn up short by a flash of pain;
Bitten by some monster there!
I've stubbed my toe, and something cries
I slip, and I've pierced my heel.
The light reveals: a doll, a truck, legos,
Is that a banana peel?
My sweetheart hears my curse of rage,
The baby in her arms,
As if her presence in the doorway there
Can shelter me from harm.
The floor is littered with children's toys
My woes; I'll not recite 'em.
A rattle clamors to the floor,
Add Infant Item!
May 1, 2017
Copyright © Dean Wood | Year Posted 2017
One day I saw an alligator,
He said, "May I take a bite?
Your fingers look real juicy
And your legs will fill my appetite."
I said, "No way Al baby,
My fingers are so handy,
My legs I need for walking
In your swamp where it's so sandy."
I said, "What about you alligator,
Can you do without your skin?
You see I want an alligator bag
To put my school things in."
He said, "You must be joking
My skin's a very vital part,
It keeps the mossies and the snakes
From acting far too smart."
After that we were good friends,
Sometimes around the swamp I ride,
Although my seat is very knobbly
Al makes a great swamp guide.
-more poems like this can be found at:
kidscomedypoetry.com.au
Copyright © john williams | Year Posted 2014
This love isn’t going anywhere
It’s always and forever
Forever and always
In good times and in bad times
For richer and poorer
In sickness and in health
Baby, no matter what happens
This love isn’t going anywhere
Totally committed
Totally devoted
Faithful until the very end
This love isn’t going anywhere
Together we’ll grow old
Wrinkles and false teeth that’s us
Together until…
This love isn’t going anywhere
It’s always and forever
Forever and always
Totally committed
Totally devoted
Faithful until the very end
That’s us…
Copyright © Sonnier Williams | Year Posted 2017
I am standing there, upright.
For those to see, present.
My eyes are open wide.
But time and world are bent.
My eyes are not outside.
Time doesn't move, inside
Where who I am is sent
And nothing looks quite right
For every second spent
Triples my internal fright
Because everything seems so unreal
And I try so hard, but cannot deal
With a room that is a room no more
Please come closer, help me deal
Make me better, help me heal.
Because I am frightened to the core.
Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2016
As the healers prepare us for the worlds beyond
With words of wisdom do they respond
Mystical minds that reveal the realm
Ingesting and spewing Love they overwhelm
They speak of joys and life’s lament
As they engulf the energies that heaven has sent
They traverse time and space to bring us hope
As we battle with the elements and try to cope
They journey unbiased with solitude
As they fill our hearts with gratitude
Infinite thoughts that carry on angels wings
As they bow in solace to the one of all things
Mystic healers your hearts are pure
As they dimensional dance and must endure
The agony and triumph of the souls you touch
With the help of angels that love you so much.
Jan.28.2016
Copyright © Winged Warrior | Year Posted 2016
Life Is Strange
We don’t make a lot of money,
its okay, still getting by.
Taste of bitter with the honey,
life is funny, wonder why.
One day you have the spirit, hope’s
candle, a flame burning high,
all dazzled by the dangling ropes...
This strangled...innocence died.
Though rubbed and soothed, outlook remains
on guard with its shame for you...
‘cause twice is stupid without brains,
so the dreams are very few.
Now spirit seems to wax and wane
like tides on the drifting shore.
Weather marks leave an ugly stain.
a past that’s hard to ignore.
Janet Vick
Copyright © Janet Vick | Year Posted 2014
Wally Weasel Goes Skiing
Wally still loves painting, but he’s now discovered sports.
He made his reservations at a faraway resort.
He’s never skied but has a book with lessons showing how.
After reading it two times plus one, he thinks he’s ready now.
With wooly scarf around his neck and hat upon his head,
he picks up shiny skis and poles that lay upon the bed.
Heading out to hit the slopes, he stops - ‘cause he’s decided
to wear his wooly socks so that his toes won’t get frost-bited.
He puts his ski poles in the snow and gives a great big push,
but all his effort got him was a wet, snow-covered tush.
Brushing off to go again, he says he will not quit.
This time he flies right down the slope – yes! All two feet of it.
He did it! He’s a skier now, and feeling very proud,
but that’s before he hears the laughter coming from the crowd.
It takes a lot of practice, as our little Wally knows,
and he’ll keep right on trying ‘til his weasel nose is froze.
With bended knees, he leans a little. This time he will do it.
When he starts to fly downhill, he says, “There’s nothing to it.”
He turns this way, then turns that way, he’s graceful as a breeze.
He’s being very careful to not run into the trees.
With all the other things he’s learned, he now feels life’s complete.
He’s shown the world that weasels, too, can be good athletes.
We’ll visit him another time and hear his tales of glory.
For now, we’ll have to wait. Another time, another story.
Copyright © Yvonne Uzzell | Year Posted 2016
Portree
Portree the tiny Capital of Skye
A special place for you and me
We purchased our rings
That would join us together
But no idea had I
Of your intentions that day
As we walked
Admiring the beauty of Portree
You were planning
A wonderful surprise
We arrived at ‘The Lump’
With its amphitheatre
And stunning views
Getting in a bit of geocaching
I was so overwhelmed
As you proposed to me
Right there by the cache
Oh wow, you blew me away
It was so beautiful
Perfect in every way
Thank you Babe so much
Can’t wait to be your wife
Portree our piece of eternity
Copyright © Gail Underwood | Year Posted 2016
Younger days, were greener days
Silver memories on the shelf
Yesterdays, in many ways
So wrapped up with myself
Saturdays, were laughing days
When time was still in wealth
Every day, that passed my way
Slipped on by in stealth
Now these days, I hang and graze
No longer pull the plough
So eyes may gaze on coming days
Not yet thrown in the towel
All those days, left in a haze
Wont come back, no how
So I say, come what may
It doesn't matter now
Any day that I can stay
No need to wear a frown
Sunny days or rainy days
Just simply hang around
Lazing days, embracing ways
To lay my trophies down
When my days, all pass away
My poems are where I'll be found
March 15 2016
Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2016
I can see your blood
And all the paths it takes
How fast or slow I takes
If it's bunching up in your neck
It is a stroke you can expect
When it's filling the paths hard and strong
High blood pressure is what's wrong
If you come from an exercise class
I see it flowing very fast
If it's moving fast I'm not clear
But usually I find it's because of fear
Sometimes I see things that don't belong there
Usually those people are somehow impaired
The bloods sometimes slow,
In people that are old.
I see blood, sometimes good
Sometimes bad
And that is the very super power I have
Copyright © Tanis Troutman | Year Posted 2016
In the beginning, you thought I was a joke.
It was the essence that I was broke,
With shattered hope, revoked with a choke.
Without anyone, to revere me as close;
Foretold, unchosen, not bold,
I've been molded as a soldier of doom.
Screaming insanely, and used as a tool.
This isn't as wise, to mistake me a fool.
I'm a crowned jewel, covered in a pool;
Of blood and madness,
Discarded, my past in sadness.
But today, I'm a mage,
Rampage on display.
As the viewers turn the page,
I'm better than clay.
I wont be washed away,
Or used and thrown to waste.
I'm not stupid, or loose in chains;
I'll run, and I will paint this world a face.
Show them all, I'm not someones jester;
I'm not a joke, but I will fester.
Take me lightly,
And I'll be laughing lastly.
A timely punishment, gone badly.
Ironically, you've been bested blindly.
Until the end of this riddle,
I wont be in the middle;
Pushed and used, I'm cynical.
The ends wont justify the means,
Nor be predictable.
This is my ritual, as I'm maddened with Issues.
Believe it or not, there's visuals;
Much like the ones in my head.
Like the time, I've been taken from my pen.
Let loose I'm out of my cage,
I'm crazed and decayed;
But I've still got rage.
Nows the time, to make them pay.
As I lay the entire world ablaze;
I'll be dancing mad inside the flames.
Though I am insane,
I'm not a dope.
Enflamed and up in smoke,
They'll all soon know;
That in the end, I'm no ones joke.
Copyright © Criss Tripp | Year Posted 2016
Faith:
Soul's sword,
Doubt's slayer,
Champion of
God!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
13 July 2017
Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis | Year Posted 2017
Down below pelagic giant lids peep
upon the watching boat's sea hunt and chase;
great barnacled seafarers of the deep
a voyage of the Great White Whale retrace!
Beneath the waves in echolocation
breaching bulls and cows dive the feeding pod,
where from its depths of ocean migration
lives the ghost of Ahab and the Pequod!
Now age-old haunts and breeding grounds die out
but not the chilling whalesong far reaching,
only cavernous mouths unmade to shout
trapped by moon and tide on remote beaching.
Beware the flencer - the harpoon's death throes,
and may long live the shout of "thar she blows!"
Written: July 1992
Copyright © Keith Trestrail | Year Posted 2014
I lay nude at sunset on a cliff above the sea.
Heaven and Earth erupt in red and orange brilliance.
A cool wind wafts over me smells of salt spray.
In this time of Autumn.
And at my side, a woman I still barely know
Caresses my quivering skin --
Filling me hard with her anticipation;
Her gleaming blond hair flowing over me.
I suspend a precious moment of eternity -- full that I am --
Immersing my senses in her womanhood:
Her comforting smile and inviting eyes,
Her clean unperfumed scent,
I gently cup her tender small breast.
So I watch, I smell, and I touch.
I want this immersion to last.
For truly this is a celebration of life!
We share here in our time of Autumn.
Copyright © Sam Toil | Year Posted 2014
The Room Drains...
The room drains to sepia.
A long distant relative
in a bowler hat,
smoking a pipe;
strokes your dog.
The one
on the couch.
Copyright © scott thirtyseven | Year Posted 2016
Don’t leave your shadow to the light
Image to the mirror
Footprints to the sand
Name to the census
Faith to the priest
Key to the door
Will to the bank
Vision to the future
Hopes to the pap
Body to the morgue
So your ghost won’t have to come back for them.
Copyright © Lansell Taudevin | Year Posted 2016
Lonely village, moonless night
Coal’s acrid odor, breath white
Meandering highway, the drunkard’s path
Clouded mind grasped for excuses from wrath
Unaware of the shadows
His eyes on the long road
Faint rustle of leaves, broke mind from it’s trance
In hallowed acre, apparitions danced
From corner of eye, glanced he
Naught but the night could he see
He stumbled forward not giving thought more
Until eerie crackle brought pimpled pores
His pulse and pace both quickened
Not from booze, he felt sickened
Past graveyard he slipped with recreant strides.
Closing eyes and letting memory guide
Into the wood his path led
More noises heard, his fear fed
Off to his left glinted a steel blade, bright
Down dark lane he ran, his legs making flight
Looking back as he bounded
Hoping fear was unfounded
Blinded by fear and the darkness of night
He tripped and fell to a macabre sight
A wet oily patch on road
Had caused his hopes to erode
As recognition of what lay before
The remnants of a former man, no more
Who it was he wasn’t sure
Face was gone, only a blur
A mangled mess, limbs de-sheathed and unpaired
Blood, bone and skin twisted beyond repair
Twin light orbs approaching fast
He waved and yelled, wheels went past
No notice paid by speeding traveler
The grizzly scene left to drunken ambler
He starts to the task un-planned
Then sees a familiar hand
He knew at once who’d been following him
That glint was scythe of the reaper grim
Then thoughts changed to his demise
His life flashed before his eyes
And excuses he grasped to avoid the wrath
Of the One who would send him on southern path
Copyright © Joseph Soper | Year Posted 2017