"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
Unauthorized I scrape the concrete calluses off the tongue
Pirating the perfect dramatic monolog 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 a 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
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013
A universe of change
Round and round I go
My spirit of envy and gold,
The nascence of a new stone
Hazel room, vibrant lilac sky,
Deep orange haze in a tender place
Arms of sapphire and cornflower blue
Fuchsia beauty drip
All colors drifted-
The first day we met
Visions of dark slate-gray
Firing up the new age gem
Turning and creating different stars
Magic mint skies
White antique petals follow the current of air
Opal dreams, clouds embedded with impurity
My heartbeat produces flashing colors
The palest amethyst bluebonnet forever fields
Flawless tear drop streams
Diamond shaped love
Ruby red promises to keep
Flowing into the deep
Every color spins new
The day I fell in love with you
Peridot lime green tint
A love as old and gray
Olive brownish sun
Our future, deeper than aquamarine
Every day you turn fresh new seasons in me
Changing the sequence in my colors and effect
Reflect by the mirrors of you
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013
you were an infant
i would sing a song i created for you
'there's a baby in my arms
there's a baby in the mirror
there's not really two
the child in the mirror
in that same vein i write this
you can't hide inside a mirror
it wouldn't be good for your image
if you see what i mean
take a minute to reflect on that thought
frame it as you will
raise a glass to good cheers
this isn't the time to crack
it is the exact reverse
like skipping a rock across the smooth surface of a lake
seven skips of good luck
because you are the fairest of them all
looking back at yourself
keeping it compact
as you duplicate your own words
impossible to read from the other side
this echo of your vision
the epitome of a prototype replicates
who is the quintessential hero and who is the fake
go through that rabbit hole -straight to wonderland
bedazzle -radiate -glimmer -scintillate
the glare will define you
you have not now or have ever been a duplicate
you are and will always be the one and only
Oct 2 2017 - love above all else love - armand
But Tell Me Where Do The Children Play
you can't lie your way to the truth
what we teach our children
should apply to us too
you took a wrong turn
check your moral compass
the needle is spinning faster
than a bottle in search of a kiss
what would our mother think
if she knew what you were up to
you're changing everything she fought for
in her life children mattered
like the singing preacher asked
such a long time ago
'...where do the children play...'
you can argue climate change
but you can't deny the quality of the air your breathing
when did we start bottling water just to take a drink
the taps are bleeding led
too late to fix the guts of generations who drank it with trust
how do you look at a storm in the eye
didn't you already prove your blind
or you just keep yours closed so no one can look in
so look deep inside your heart
'...tell me, where do the children play?…'
Oct 2 2017- armand
BONUS POEM THE SEQUEL
Me? I Saw More.
the clown danced like a marionette
his painted face featured a grimace
and a tear
i saw more
no fear here
an amazing mime artist
a procurer of pathos
he was pulling a little red wagon
with a large orange hard ball
walking on the spot
i saw more
we often have to carry more
than we think we can handle
our shoulders grow
atlas carried the earth on his shoulder
when we think we can do no more
we do even more than we need to
i saw more
the power of one
we don't need help
we need initiative
no brother or sister's need
is less important than our own
'give and you shall receive'
we are all more
it takes a strong child
to raise the values of a village
i can't win unless we all win
we have tried the blame game
five thousand years later
we are being led by weak men
want bigger and bigger guns
at a time when we have enough weapons
destroy the earth hundreds of times over
has always been
i see more
i see you
ghandi was right then
ghandi is right now
do you see
Oct 2 2017- armand
BONUS POEM THE SEQUEL TOO
i am going to touch you
like a firefly touches
the dead of night
lights the obscurity
i want to illuminate
the pitch dark of your perspective
inject a bright glow of hope
cleanse your thoughts of the negative
did you argue today
did the daily news invade your cheer
turned your 'in the pink' to something 'blue'
i am going to reignite your sense of calm
wave a wand -make your heart smile
warm your complexion to a glow
spread your goodwill worldwide
life i assure you isn't a rotting corpse
you have the strength
rise above the doom and gloom
you are presently living
the alternative is an untimely exit
i believe in laughter
and i believe in unconditional love
i believe when your back is against the wall
persistence will create a door
a passageway out of the muck and mire
no matter how thick the fog
it only takes a breeze
to clear a path
one you can ride to your destination of choice
Oct 2 2017- armand
BONUS POEM THE REBOOT
Colour Me Ill
i tried to fly today
nothing deep here
this isn't that type of poem
didn't go that well
i fell flat on my fa fa fa face
(pardon my stutter
a temporary side effect of the fa fa fa fall)
i wasn't writing any poetry
at the hospital either
all joking aside
there was a lot of blood
did you know that doctors
have no sense of humour
i was slurring anyways
you gotta love that morphine
they were cleaning up the blood
i said thanks dr. acula
not even a snicker
and i'm not speaking of a chocolate bar
wasn't even my joke
stole it from Mitch Hedburg
coincidentally the doctor left me in stitches
the nurse said she was taking me for an X-ray
i didn't really hear her but she was a knockout
sounded go go good to me
i was running in front of the wheelchair she was pushing
i was excited
we got somewhere
you gotta love that morphine
i must of impressed them
they thought i was a model
they took pictures of me
Bi Bi Big pictures
you should of seen the size of the negatives
i ordered ten sets
they pushed me outside and left
pa pa par for this course
suddenly my nurse date was back
they always come back
Oct. 2 2017- armand
Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2017
Featuring: Keith :)
Fresh sand garments
The Mental Colosseum floor
~ AND THE POEM BEGINS ~
A mask, tiny holes
Dancing around my toes
Broad carbon steel
Safe behind my will
Equipment of revenge
Fencing the world with my eyes
I bow, with the morning dew,
My mind a dual in its own world.
When the curtains lift,
I prepare myself with a weapon--
Epee Crest to protect my chest
A sword sharper than fangs
I circle my blade around the door knob
Ready to face the world
Practicing --in hopes today, I won't retreat
A magical knightress
Painted in white
~ THE SHOW BEGINS ~
Queen Amri "VS" The Damsel
Wishing it was over
Stainless steel echoes
“Every poke counts”
Hoping & Taking
No room to disengage ---I retreat
Peacefully I secure my stance
I lean in, I disengage ---I flee
Back again, I lunge
The Queen is too smart to retreat
I -Amri, parry away from the argument of the lunge.
Recoil & Double tapped
In and out….. I'm struck
Back to the drawing board
On guard, I stand like a statue
Out of breath; feels like I'm dying
Yet I am still fighting.
The Queen knows what to do.
I Yield, She Wins!
Raising our foils
---At the on guard of another day
I move in swiftly, cutting like razor blades
Using refreshed energy
24 / 7
I attack, She provokes!
Sand runs its course
Victorious against the queen
Touch – tied – triumph -- Touché
Standing on my own 2 feet
I am the
-Grand Finale Show-
Conquering The Battles Inside
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013
Angel in the Clouds
Sometimes you look up to the sky
And maybe you can find
In a large bank of clouds
The face and figure of an angel with wings
Who’s looking down on you.
It may be someone
You knew from the past
Who went to Heaven a long time ago.
And maybe that angel appears here now for you
Just to say “Hello”
And to make this moment very special.
You feel an enchantment in your heart
And sense a soft tingling on your cheek . . .
As if a kiss was placed there by this angel
With an encouraging touch on your shoulder
Giving you a wondrously warm feeling inside.
With this magical moment as you’re touched
By this angel . . .
You realize this angel loves you very much
And just came by to look after you
And to send you a joyous blessing
Right from Heaven—personally to you!
Gary Bateman and Ingrid Krukenberg-Bateman
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
May 17, 2017 (Free Verse)
Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2017
-This buds for you!-
-It takes one to know one!-
-I know you are, but what am I?-
A second hand, on my stopwatch, going nowhere!
You are a joker, a smoker, a midnight stroker
<-------How, about that, Steve Miller song
I'm not here to talk about the way you comment a poem
That's not how I roll, now listen, and listen well,
I don't care, about them words you speak
A whining sheep, every time you don't score
Crying behind close doors,
Boo-Who, I did not place high in so-and-so's contest
Gosh&dammit, not everyone's on a quest
Blogging, about the day, your poem got demoted to nonsense
Trying to comment relentlessly,
You can't top, a mountain that has no setup
I'd rather leave a copy paste comment,
"than being fake as fake can be"
At least, my copy paste was a song,
in which welcome the new poets on
Treating, everyone with love and security
Your invites, are cold and force, to you it's not about community
No motion, to your notion, simple, and disgusting
I don't know why you think, we are competing,
Long ago, I left you bleeding, no reason to be defeating
Your paranoia, has you thinking, it's all about the points,
It's getting old and boring,
You cry babies are nothing more than jokes and hypocrites
Hey you, this ain't dominoes, we done pass every Jo-Jo
When, I have time I sit here for fun, my trigger finger on the gun
Reading, commenting, until my day is done
You think, because someone, left a copy paste
That your poem was not read,
Perhaps, it was not understood, or enjoyed
Or, a welcome to the neighborhood
A nice smile, from me to you
Nice poem, You Rock!
So What! ---- WOW!
This Bud's for you
I think it's time for you to GET A LIFE!
Be glad someone took their time, in checking you out twice
Not, everyone on this site, is full of bull-shit
The smallest words, are more likely to be legit
I don't need and expensive comment,
I don't want to impress, when it comes to the best comment
Please do not make love to my poem!
A nice pat on my back will do,
Now that my friend, puts a smile on my face
To know you care, to know you were there:)
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2014
Lost in a poets convention,
I can't recall every poem, I've read through the years
50518, unique comments I 'validate'---
Thank You For Sharing Your Happy and Sad tears
Since March 24, 2010 In the mist of every line,
I'm sending special hugs, for he/she that favorite me through the years
A praise to all poets mentioned and not mentioned
I will miss, the sweetest girl on this block LEONORA G.,
She treats me with love, adores my words and twisted poetry.
I will start with the soups famous October, 7th babies,
Frank and Kash, Debbie D, and myself, these lines belong to us,
Our best characteristic has everything to do with the mind
In our poetic hearts you'll find the symbol of justice and balance
This is not a song, it is not a poem, it's a free falling memo written with style
Back in March 2013, I said it then, I'll say it again
Andrea, you and only you are the Poet Queen
By the Queen, sits the Poet King of rhymes, Robert L. Hinshaw
Thank you both for never stepping on your loyal subjects
Carol B., & Linda Marie, no one can replace the hole you left inside
I will miss all the little poetry pups, who came and sat by my side
MAHIMA and Saanvi, and Sabrina, thank you for the encouragement
Phyllis, Joyce, Francine, Rhonda, Betty, sweet Karen A., and Catie,
Clap your hands for the lovely quiet soup ladies.
Okay, maybe not Karen A., and Catie, these ladies love speaking their minds:)
SARA K., a mentor to some, a Fairy Godmother in my book
I will miss her "Magic Pen like Wand" dearly.
Gail, thank you for spreading your wings, and teaching us how to fly.
Hopefully --wings are a nice gesture, --waving--
"One day I'll see you again, my friend."
Daver Austin, "Go ahead, make my day" thank you for the show
Now, you know why I referred to you as, "The Clint Eastwood of Poetry."
Russell Survey, encouraged my days and moods with his kind words
Scribe ML., where are you my friend?
Don't you know your BIGGEST FAN misses you!!!
Dr Ram, Bindu V, Litan D., Donna J, Shadow, Sandra A., Peter Durgan,
Giorgio V., Mystic Rose, BL Devnath and of course our Nette.
Thank you for being kind and rewinding and replying to every note.
Joseph M., Caleb S., Vincent F., Juliet L., Lucy Carrillo, Scott 37, Johnny R.,
Kelly D., thank you for the honor in always honoring my words
Roger Horsch meets Eileen Ghali, your smile, her smile always made me smile,
No matter how many miles apart, our smiles always met on the same page.
Jenish, Don J., S.Z. Kamoonpuri, Gideon, Gary, Austin E., and Jody M.,
Fatima N., Mark N., Aiyah B., Ralph F., Kathryn C., Elly, Ayesha A.,
Clay W., Erich, Syam, MIKKI, John B., Olusegun, *Sukmawati* Gwen,
Delysia H., Frederic P., Richard L., Brenda L., Keith, Debbie G.,
Thank you for painting the best IMAGERY
Michale Clarke, Charma C., Wayland B., Jancarl C., Carrie, and Harry,
M&M, Abdulhafeez, Michael B., Maria P. S., CHAN and Mandy T.
You are only the beginning of what makes this a good community
Arlid A., Dinda M., Silly Billy, Tim Ryerson, we go way back.
Ravindra, Kim M., Richard S., Honestly JT., Wade A., Dom-X.
The ingredients in your poems, makes the best soup remix
Joe M., Jack H., James H., James P., Tim B., Jon A. C., Allan K., Matthew A.
Deb Wilson, David S., David William, Thomas S., Cecilia M.
Keep that pen flowing for tomorrow needs poets like you.
Justin B., Laura B., your words will continue to be a part of me.
Owen Y., and John L., your visits, your friendship I will never forget
Yasmin and Carl F., hanging out with you on the soup was the best.
Cherl Dunn, and Colleen Bono, SandyIvy, I will miss everything about you,
Mostly I will miss your friendship and the way you took care of me.
Poet and sister Skat, keep rocking what I can't....
Copy paste your love, welcome in the new.
Show Edwina, Robin, Sam B., and all the NEW POETS they belong
Last but not least-- Behind every mess, they are the best
--Craig Cornish and Cyndi McMillan
What have you done, I admit without you this place would have been no fun.
Thank you for the spin, making every penny worth our paid premium memberships
Before I forget,
I want to take this time to reminisce and add two old friends to my hot list.
Nikko and Chris A..... My first POETRY SOUP FRIENDS.
I will never forget you, and all the fun moments we had,
Back when the soup was not like this:)
Chris, can you ever forgive me, I never stepped up to say "I was Sorry!"
As you know my kindness is my weakness
Now it's time to be strong and move on
If one day I return, then you know, I fell off the wagon
And, into arms and luring fingers of Team Poetry Soup
The Poet Destroyer
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014
I watch this world pass by,
miracle after miracle,
overcome with thoughts
of life and death -
heated in a buttery sky;
the air melts into far corners,
farther than my eyes can see.
Faster, this world spins into
eternity, faith, and possibilities.
An open window becomes a gate
to step through, a starting place -
as a bluebird dips in the birdbath,
squirrels scurry across green grass,
a blue horizon darkens like a memory.
Those who hurriedly pass by feign contentment
with plastic smiles, earbuds, cell phones,
a false sense of purpose.
I feel content, at peace, and yet, I ache for more -
a yearning from deep within.
I feel it wash over my skin.
Cars drive by, everyone’s going somewhere,
but not I. I sit here…I watch.
I whisper a short prayer for a friend,
I remain silent with His answer –
patience…all will work out in time;
head bowed, I pray for His healing hands
to touch me. In my father’s arms,
I am comforted and whole.
I am who He sees…
sunlight traces storm clouds
painting rainbows over shadowed trees,
a beautiful canopy.
His love flows through me,
pouring out at Calvary.
In the afternoon rain,
I see each drop of blood.
A choir of clouds congregate.
I hear their worship song.
I see a crown of thorns around them.
I feel the weight of the cross
He struggles to carry.
Mangos fall with the rain
from a shaken tree,
then lay bruised on limp, wet leaves;
flies begin to swarm around them;
following the clouds trajectory,
I envision more than I can bear -
His slashed skin and mangled bones
flash before my eyes.
With hands nailed, He's hung
on the cross in shame and suffering;
every labored breath taken
until death for an ungrateful world…
my soul seems to understand
what I cannot grasp…all of this,
He did for me….and you.
Love becomes more than a word,
a blessing becomes more than a concept.
I sit at my window unnoticed;
I watch the world pass by -
every leaf, pebble, bird, raindrop
and new life, I see,
like a child with a loving father,
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2015
And the ladybug placed a caressing whisper into dragonfly’s ear,
“I want to fly again. I crave to flap my tiny wings towards sunset’s crux.
I want to breathe again. I want to be held like winds within canyon’s dialect.”
“But, first, I just need to scream.”
Let me be your breeze.
The power to swim!
The power to grin!
The desire to never, ever fall again!
Let us embrace conundrum’s waterfall to be its resolution!
Let us allow joy to be our bedtime lullabies!
Let us let love IN without full moon’s dependency!
Ride on this impeccable jet stream towards animosity’s downfall!
Look in the face of your beautiful enemies
Daring it to stand above pedestal’s fallacy
Let your radiance be their final intimacy!
Take incipient steps,
Upon mended asphalt wishes
Let them tremble at the sight of your beautifully embattled smile
Knowing they will never reciprocate
Where desert winds kneel in our reflections
For we are an oasis
Forged of blood diamonds; sacrificial memories
Breezes become gusts
Gusts become worshipped exhales
All that I am!
All that you are!
All that they hope to be!
Our Yin & Yang
Will release proverbial boomerangs
Breaking vicious circles upon this genesis
We sway above greener pastures.
Gusts become breezes.
Breaking enigmatic mirrors to see your true colors
With a scream to paint your new canvas
The time is now,
Let your two feet become one.
Rise, my ladybug!
To detrimental trials
And caress newfound trust
Within a gentle
©Drake J. Eszes
Copyright © Drake Eszes | Year Posted 2013
Inspiration where do you go when
you leave and your dry, barren
riverbed causes blinding dust storms in
my mind? Do you evaporate into
mist, become a gray dense fog
lying heavily in the air, intangible…
floating like a cloud, ever
changing shapes? Are you carried
by the wind, held hostage
to feed another storm when
lightening strikes and your deluge
once again swells the
river to overflowing, racing
free and wild, reaching
out beyond all boundaries?
If so, storm
of inspiration, please
deliver unto me
Sandra M. Haight
Contest: Take The Dagger From My Heart, Please - 2
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Premiere Contest: Premiere Contest Number 12
Sponsor: Skat A
Contest: “I Do Not Know”
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
Rules for original contest: First Stanza, 6 Words per line; Second Stanza, 5 Words per line; 3rd Stanza, 4 words per line; Fourth Stanza, 3 Words per line; Fifth Stanza, two Words per line; Sixth Stanza, one Word
Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2014
She who sends waves touching beautiful warm and gracious words
Draws bright sunshine smiles in our hearts as they sing in her grace
Flowing from the heart her beauty held in her Quill ready to write
Pure diamond sparkling rainbows as a true friend is a friend in deed
The tidal wave raises fine soaked sand from the bottom of the ocean
And the waves curl out pearl white reflecting a most Picture Perfect
Image that is truly splendid and always sublime to behold and cherish
As Nature’s soft wind caresses your aura and inspires your next poem
She who sends these very waves touching beautiful personifies a Muse
So rare, so special—and brings her influence and talents to bear in
Masterfully supporting the efforts of fellow poets and dreamers as they
“Spill Ink” on blank pages late at night crafting their next poetic masterpiece
The very power and wonder of her good works and positive influence are
Always there magnificently arrayed like pure beams of sunshine touching
And dazzling all in her reach quite profoundly with the magic of her thoughts
And the quiet courage of her convictions as the simply wonderful poet she is
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem (Free Verse Poem),
November 26, 2014
NOTE: Written in Honor of Anne-Lise Andresen for Her Fine Poetry and For
Her Continued Professional Support and Encouragement of Other Fellow Poets.
Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2014
From your hands that dipped me in cool tubs
and soft morn wakes, you were the gentle lion
taming my bohemian strains; the lamb of summer
rain catching me like a feather on your palm...
always, your balm poured moon glow of bliss,
erring only when my restless flowers needed
to bend: from where pictures stood, time bowed
shaping night talks, life’s edges, and paused faces.
Then the gas light dripped on lacquered frames,
silhouettes fading as I collected our thoughts—
marbles in my pocket—to keep me safe
from cold winds, rough dreams. And tonight,
my breath grows wild, noting the fabric of revelries
as I click past lenses : you smile; you laugh.
Just when evening’s done, you reach your arms
in slow motion to hold me close again...hands
that dipped me then, gone, without saying goodbye
from a wave of coma when I was only 24. Yet among
old photographs, we embrace through love's eyes...
Daddy, you're my special treat every day!
Tell Us About Your Dad Contest
Sponsor: Judy Konos
Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2012
In the midst of great turmoil and strife,
There is a force manifestly to be heard…seen….touched
A voice—ever so soft… yet loud enough to break mountains at their base
It can make a grown man cry—can distort the finest face
Lead the mother eagle back to its nest…
Run its hands against a tumultuous sea to rest…
Shedding tears of empathy when the woman,
With child, is seen- alone…sore. . . distressed
With mind enduring beyond mortal endurance
With arms stretching across the universe of opportunities and darkness
With eyes blossoming like those crazy sunflowers reaching to the sky…
Suddenly… you will feel its yellow fires
It is the very storm that knocks us down
To the depths of humility...patiently waiting for the perfect time to strike,
It comes like an earthquake and tremors the very soul into action...
It is the war of mercy that will devour to create and rejuvenate!
It tells the geese to fly south, whispering them in the right direction...
It is the soft growl of the lion that wakes its babe to safety...
Like music, it can soothe, or agitate,
Its rhythms changeable…forgivable…
When you take a wrong turn, a dissonant chord harsh as lightning will expel
Suspended in the air—colors more mysterious than hell
And when you love—oh how sweet love carries cherished lips cosmically….
A smile of the most precious melodies ring
New colors—see it, new colors shall spring
What this light truly means is to be revealed
Only for the precious few who listen and truly feel
Wrapped in the soft ribbons of love beyond all mortality
Beyond space and reality
Beyond the very tip of the mountain,
That never had to be touched to be brought to its knees…..
Not once did this force ever have to take the woman by the hand
And say with conviction… “everything will be okay….”
Because phenomenally… she would simply hear it in melody,
Inspired by the blazing sun of a newly dawned day-
Freshly caught tears of joy priding the lonely spider’s web
For Justin Bordner’s Divine Intervention Contest
Thank you, with love,
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2014
The night air flowed over my breath
The covers not quite keeping me warm
Dreams caressing my past
My lover whispers in my ear
Sweet words, with her loving touch
Times long ago, where tenderness would flow
Her perfume flys away with the wind
Happy days my only true possessions
ahhh but love is not as it once was
Age makes the windmill turn slower
My lover caressing my pain
Raindrops falling, aroused in the wet rain
She my life, now I live with thoughts inane
She releases me from both pleasure and pain
Dreams of her splatter all over on top
My cover only a cardboard box
Wet from the weather
in the alley where I sleep
At dawn, there is a sharp pain in my rib
"out your bum, get the hell away"
Kicked and bruised I grab what I can
All I can think of is to run run run
Limping, onwards to the park
I feel a firm hand take hold of me
Stop young man, its raining cant you see?
Shocked I try to escape, fear invades me
In a softer tone the man says
Come with me son, out of the rain
The shelter is over there, close to your park
A warm meal, and and fresh bath will do you good
Father O'Brien pats the new one Davey on the back
Welcome son, here's a book if you care to read
Davey still in skeptical mode, being treated as human
Father O'Brien see this in his heavy eyes
He looks at Davey and whispers
I was once you, you see
The hand of love
Can mend a thousand hearts
When like the seeds of blooming flowers
We spread the love we were handed
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2017
There is nothing hotter than a sexy brain
A one of a kind
The bigger the better
Nothing titillates more than stroking genius
Sending ripples through the psyche
An ignited muse invoking rapture
With inspiration and seduction
Sliding hand in hand dear
When my mind is whet
Composed for Gregory R Barden's
"The Poet's Fire"
Copyright © Maureen McGreavy | Year Posted 2017
Thank you for being patient,
Thank you for understanding I'm human, after all.
Forgive me for all the mischievous prank calls.
Much of what I said and done, was out of fun.
Now, I sit on this rocking chair getting old.
Reminiscing over the beauty and honor it has been
Passing this land we call "EARTH."
Reminiscing over the beauty and honor, ----- REMINISCING!
Sorry, if I repeat the same beat a thousand times....
You see, I sit here every day thinking this world is mine....
Trying to remember, who I AM.
Every moment there has ever been or ever will be,
Is taking a toll on every single feeling and memory.
Time, Yes------------------ TIME!
The wrinkles on my face will never describe
how many birthdays I celebrate.
The wrinkles on my face
Tell stories reminding my readers,
Where I've been and come from
How consistent, and fortunate I've been,
Babbling about my past, present, and future;
The only advantage of the word "TIME."
-- It helps fade hurting moments away--
You see, time is the essence of memories.
"Growing from young to old, was not as easy as it sounds."
Please be patient with_____ Wait! I said that already....
Thank you for understanding what I’m going through.
Please listen, be patient with what's burning deep down inside.
It's almost dinner time -- once again, I mention the word "TIME!"
I'm not hungry, food just isn't the same when fed through a straw.
Besides, have you seen the garments ''they'' make me wear?
Never thought I'd live to see myself in old-fashioned nightgowns
Time keeps adding silver to what used to be pretty brownish red hair
Time what have you done to me?
Please excuse if I can't work a remote or function the TV properly.
What has happened to simple technology,
When everything came with "ON and OFF" buttons.
Time understand what I go through, my legs never felt this tired
I can't seem to keep myself on the same path,
I lose track of time when navigating my toes
Take my hand, lead the way and understand I can't see more
Time, allow the joy to take its time when my end is near.
Thank you, Time, for all the loving moments we shared
Thank you, Time and please be kind and end my life with love.
End my life with love-----
End my life with love-----
Wait..... I said that already....
Thanks for having patience.
The Little Old Lady Across the Street
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013
I THINK THEREFORE I AM
"An ounce of hypocrisy is worth
a pound of ambition" --Michael Korda
This everyone's want--
stretching an autonomy to unbuckle self-discovery
I got mites and bugs living in my head--
infesting my mind. They... daring a chance
to worm my guts and electrify my peace.
They adulterate seeking ways to emerge
from claws of doubts to grains of trust.
My veil of grace they bite and bite
devouring me 'til I set to pursue my act.
Should I repulse...
then spread my wings to fly?
or should I be a little puppet--
controlled, slave to strings attached to me?
or I'd rather choose a mask--
my gamble to earn sympathy or popularity;
my weapon sheltering my luck;
my fall or my win?
Cogito ergo sum.
I think, therefore I am.
The mites and bugs in my skull blown
from shocks infused by my firing drive.
My cavalry of Modesty, brave to rise
face the furnace of battlegrounds.
Insincerity. Malingering. Pretension
are artillaries luring hypocrisy
but love, honesty and bravery:
the bombs I defy to conquer the trades.
If God is with me, who can be against me?
Standing like a Molave
rooted evergreen, ever strong.
My face bulletproof
to those who I believe wrong.
A standing soldier ready to offer her life
to fraud and tyranny.
I refuse to be fed on standing lies.
The harpoons of verity, I battling dart,
raining towards the barbaric boxes as they...
They are my lioness roar, my freedom and my soar
piercing the pumping heart of those who eat innocence,
** I think therefore I am is said by Rene Descartes
Romans 8:31-- If God is with us, who can be against us?
O. E. Guillermo
10:43 pm, April 18, 2015
Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo - Fraser | Year Posted 2015
I don't have nothing really to post right now
However, I will read your poems first,
In hopes inspiration follows and falls into place
Please do not think I'm here to drop a bomb
It's just a fair warning on how, I'm here
"To Rock Your World"
Allow me kindly to introduce myself,
I'm as Sweet as they come
I'm not the enemy, but a poet friend
In time you will see, and hunger my name
I'm not new to any poetry world
In time you will notice I am not your average girl
I will play fair, If you do
I'll be true to you, if you are true
I'm not here to judge what I can't see
However, I will reply and enjoy the imagery
This Destroyer is not like a lawyer
However, mess with me or my sis
I'll chew you out like the D.E.A.
I'll mess with your mind
A brain storm cleaning you from bottom to top
I am the POET DESTROYER
Admiring those who love the world of wordplay
Today, I will end my WORDS
With the quote I've always wanted to say
"I am no poet!"
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010
Since time immemorial across the Universe—
Traces of my vapor, my dust trails, my footprints, my being
Light up the skies of innumerable planets etching themselves
Indelibly in the consciousness of the stars and making visible
Impressions in the cold continuum of deep dark space.
I’m mere particle matter—in reality, an iota of infinity that
Continues its travel through time and space and all dimensions
Visiting the vast frontiers of the Universe while leaving minute
Traces of my Cosmic DNA.
I’m part of the Universe’s great existential family—
My quest is to travel, to arrive, to be one with everything I touch,
And to savor a continuous divine purpose.
What unbounding possibilities there are as I traverse the far
Outreaches of dark space on Flight Paths of Eternity.
And sometimes I’m a part of rainbows that kiss the Face of God.
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved (March 24, 2014)
Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2014
Often, i have spoken with you
about urgent thoughts pillaging
my restless heart. During limbo
of midnight’s shadow, my knees
grate in rage when your songs
do not come to wrap my hands.
Do i know your seas and the Calvary
that put a stake unto your unbidden love?
I know, I sometimes never dared
travel inside the tides of your eyes
soulful and caressing the silk of light,
the damp powder of tears
hanging on winds tormented and
tamed by soaked loaves of discontent.
You did die for me, dear Jesus,
letting my seedless wisdom
gush into flakes of pride… Still, you--
barefoot on a road of parched lands--
climb unto height of rivers, the mounds
of earth offering your mercy unknown yet
known if only through the glory of
your pricked crown. All these for me
and all of creation you so cherished.
I shall but enter the serenity of your
eyes and gather my faith; then,
walk again and live for you instead...
And so it is through your grace.
Regina Riddle's Prayer Contest
Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2014
4 White Horses called to me
from across their field on that 1 day
They called my mind to come and see
their everyday scene so...overlooked
The gazes were steady the hearts true
as innocence pulled us together
Their knowledge of my soul was a wondrous feeling of trust...
their warm soft muzzles like velvet in my hands
Though fence between us...
I could feel their wild hearts racing across the plains
Massive white clouds rode the wind past the sun
sweeping shadows over the land like prehistoric birds
The scene calmly arouses memories of peace...of youth...of freedom
I feel a oneness with this land...with this moment...with this dream
I feel a oneness with these creatures so Majestic and Serene
Time could never change their hearts
or even taint their souls
and I could not tear myself away when it was time to go
Deep breath in... Deep breath out
I wished silently that all creatures could be at such peace
on that 1 day
-hope you enjoy this inspiration of a creature that changed my heart
Copyright © Chris Hagy | Year Posted 2016
Through past/present/future, the Imagist Express still clatters,
bending time, space, and everything else that truly matters.
The eclectic, mingled aroma
of Turkish coffee, French onion soup,
and spicy Kinpira Gobo,
wafts from the kitchen,
stinging the ornamental eyes
carved into the lounge car's ceiling.
A draft clears the air—
squinted eyes become wide-angle lenses;
pupils melt like hot candle wax,
dripping onto toes that are tapping
to the rhythmic beat of iron bones
spinning 'round below.
the passengers feel the engine's migratory yearning
as the conductor switches the tracks of thought,
so mesmerized they are
by their reflections in the windows:
pale faces dangling from a moistened, black bough.
The strange, intoxicating fruit
amongst the smudges of fingerprints,
their spirals, bending time, space,
and everything else that truly matters.
Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2010
How do I begin to describe you
Such an incredible person
Yet even now you doubt your abilities
You lost your own mum when you were eight - you never ever got over it
You worked all your life, started off by working in a bank for almost 20 years
Then when you had children you ran a village shop from home
But also helped run the smallholding where we lived
You even had an evening job to bring in extra income
Then you began working in a care home and that had a big impact on you
At 50 you changed direction in life and studied and trained to be a nurse
No mean fete with two children to bring up
When you retired you continued to work in a care home
Then you undertook charity work every week still continuing well into your eighties
In fact you were on your way to work at the charity shop when you fell
You were found lying in the street …
Two bleeds on your brain and over three months in hospital
How you pulled through I will never know
Yet you battled on and are still with us still
Now you have short-term memory issues and are going blind
Fate struck a cruel blow when dad was diagnosed with terminal cancer
He passed away in February
Your lifelong partner for nearly sixty years
Your world turned upside down and now you live in a care home
We are selling the family home - gosh I find it tough emotionally
I know we have lost dad but I feel like I am losing you too
You are helping me clear out things from the house
Items you have known and loved for many years
Sadly we can’t keep everything
It must be so so difficult for you, yet you never complain
I just want you to know how much I love you
How much you inspire me
We only have one mum and I am so lucky I have you still
Written for a previous contest but too late to be submitted
Placed in Judy Konos' Contest - tell us about your mom
18th September 2015
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015
Watch this girl...
she has her eyes
on a rising dandelion
sprouted in high grass,
a pensive girl,
weaving her way through the fields,
looking past weeds to her future,
making her way through a maze
of thistle solitude, on Saturday afternoons,
down hallways and classes on Tuesday,
teacher and stranger and parent
expectation, she approaches
a destination beyond home,
clutching the flower
to her budding breasts
Keep your eyes on her...
she is residue of the mute child,
now entrusted with a knowing mind
and well worn shoes,
still clutching the flower
to her breast...
She peers through pages of old photos,
scratching through scraps of half-heard
some color and clarity
with a dim vision of the girl
that held a prickly spine
of a spent dandelion
with compromise and resignation
Unable to mouth a sound,
I wish to warn
each teacher, each mentor, each censor of the flame...
I want to shout:
"Watch this girl...
who held a weightless flame
of windswept dream in her eyes,
making her way,
mediating between her reality
and every longing she ever had...
Look back to this girl
who has always maintained
an unblinking gaze on the white star
of dandelion in her hand"
Submitted to PD's Contest : 101 In A Row #7
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2013
I'm often in conflict with childlike creatures
They'd prefer to receive The Truth
in a nicely decorated package
embroidered with flattering designs
presented sweetly to their ears
Perhaps I'll be liked more that way...
I'm always in search of The Way
to be true to oneself in the face of judging souls
They'd easily accept the appearance of things
based on their own needs and wants
discarding the ones which displease them
a screening process that builds up to Hate...
Perhaps I'll never be my True self
as I wade the murky water of unknown territory
shivers running through my core
blinking under the cold emotionless stare
slowly crushing under Expectations from all sides
I may no longer Be Myself
......as in Life's Journey
people only expects you to be the Image of their own needs
Copyright © Angeline Haikutwinkle | Year Posted 2016
Walking on a fine line
Finer than a silky hair
Oops! We are mistaken
Hair is a rope of proteins and
Then a chain of amino acids
Is it an illusion? A phantasm?
Why they then connect
Alike coaches of a train?
Harmony may be the glue
Attaching and sticking them
Together, dashing on the track of life.
I think, the line is nothing but
A series of dots embedded
In the matrix of unity
Come hold my hand, let us
Make a line of life or lifeline
Shun the inconvenience, Dear,
Nature loves symmetry.
Copyright © Malik Yaseen | Year Posted 2014
Black and beautiful the crown of any man’s heart they are bewitched by her soul and her warmth.
My sweet sister draws you in with her smile, any man can find comfort in her arms.
She walks with a purpose, confident and pride knowing who she is... the queen of the Nile.
Without a doubt, her blood is royal strong and black like coffee with no cream not afraid to say what she means. No is no… yes is yes… no arguments after, no time for a debate.
My sweet sister, a woman full of hope and grace always on a mission, she knows her purpose and her place. My strong beautiful black African sister.
Copyright © sonya Stewart | Year Posted 2016
The island birds have done their work,
Fed their young, and now take roost
In swaying palms with the setting sun.
I too have filled my sunny day
With mundane chores, I've toiled away
Until this magical twilight hour...
When I drink my tea and wander
Over reams of creative poetry.
Your romantic words have inspired me...
Let me fly freely... through the galaxy.
Though evening news causes much disdain
Your brilliant words bring delight again.
Romance blooms from pen to paper
In such vivid and fragrant floral bouquets.
So many forms and varieties I am astounded,
I can't take my weary eyes away!
The night is virginal and humid
As Jasmine releases her sultry scent...
Romance me with your tales of love
Which I respect as heaven sent.
As I read poems half through the night
They color dreams in dawn's twilight.
© Connie Marcum Wong
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2017
Poems flowing from my heart
Words filling sheets of paper
Feelings pouring through stanzas
Until rhymes make sense
Who says what should be written
Who says what should be felt
Only who writes knows the first
Only who reads capture the last
My words can resonate in some hearts
It can pass unfelt through the rest
It'll grow roots in someone's lives
It'll be ignored by the mass
And that's okay, you see
Because it's impossible to please everyone
I hope who matters will read
And my words will have a life of their own...
November 11, 2016
Copyright © Claudia Polydoro | Year Posted 2016
She seeks a place
against the cold
last summer days
Her brittle bones
prepare for painful
Her fingers twine
the last shaved wool
to make a coat
In silent walks
her quiet life
where river laps
are all she hears
She wonders if
her voice still gives
and sings her song
If in due time
when she has gone
she'll still be known
September 28, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017