Since first I saw you, it was your eyes,
mesmerizing, your gaze transporting
me to a realm, not of fantasy, real,
where young men go when cupid’s
arrow takes root.
Since first I saw you, it was your lips,
captivating, holding me frozen
in anticipation of our lips brushing
for the first time.
Since first I saw you, it was your voice,
a crescendo, light, invigorating,
each word you speak intensifies
my hearing, enveloping each
note, time ceases as I hang motionless
Since first I saw you, it was your hair,
long, flowing, gently rising above
your shoulders as a slight breeze
passes through sending waves
of your essence my way.
The sun magnifying each strand,
highlighting the minute
variances of invigorating color,
creating a halo effect, a portrait of
your beauty forever imprinted.
Since first I saw you, It was you,
my love forever more for you,
Copyright © Mac McGovern | Year Posted 2010
The most social thing on earth
Social than the Social Networking Sites
Tall with straight uniform trunk
Unbranched trunk topped with a
Tuft fanlike or featherlike leaves.
Cresting with a plume of long feathery fronds
Making a graceful silhouette of unique beauty
With spiral arrangement of its wood fibers
Which makes it a tree of unusual suppleness and strength
Large evergreen leaves
With bundles of vascular tissue
Scattered throughout the trunks.
Abundant throughout the tropics
And thrive in almost every inhabitat therein
The quintessential image of relaxed and elegant lifestyle
A good friend in need,
A good friend indeed
Because of its versatility,
Many people cannot do without it.
Having as many uses as the year has days.
And noted for productivity in the bible
Imagine the way it comes to its full bearing
After ten to fifteen years on earth.
And still continue to bear for nearly a hundred years.
Of great economic importance,
Providing food, fibre, wine and oil
Widely used in landscaping for its exotic appearance
A useful ornamental tree
This social palm tree
Copyright © Adeniji Toluwalope Gideon | Year Posted 2016
my heart breathes its last breath
Embraces its own death
Ready to be reborn
and made anew
Can’t live a lie
Refuse to “do”
and I’ll DIE....
Focus now on why I’ll live
And never touch the sky.
I have to forget you
I have to reject you
But I will never love anyone
like I loved you.....
I heard you whisper
and you never knew it
I wiped the tears from your eyes
But you couldn’t feel it
You’re lost and you’ll never find you
And neither will I
And I’m so sorry--
but I’m NOT.
I'll attempt to reset
Try to forget
But you know, I never will.
Be my dirty little secret
My very worst-kept secret
Sweet, smooth, beautiful poison
My infernal and endless attraction
towards complete and utter self-destruction
I fell in love with the devil
And it will take one heck of an angel
To save me from the likes of you....
my dream never to come true
Oh, I’ll never forget the times
we never shared
I’ll never forget
how you were never there
Always me, the stars, and tears
And I ask you,
what kind of life is THAT?
I have to face the facts
I don’t know what happens now
but it happens without you.
The stains will always be there
the scars will never fade
But the memory of you----
it HAS to.
I could carry the torch forever
But it would only consume me
I can’t cry another tear for you
Or I’ll dry up completely
It doesn’t affect you
and you never deserved me
You’ll go on with your life, too
All, all alone
Because you’ll only ever be in love
Copyright © SLS It Is Rife With Ambiguity | Year Posted 2011
Skin Deep Beauty
This man covered in tattoos in reds and greens and blues
Wanted everyone to see his art
So he put it in his will that he hopes they will fulfill
That in his death his skin will do its part
He wants it tanned and stretched, hung where it can be sketched
By anyone who happens to come by
He says I’ll be the donor, just the former tattoo owner
The Gallery can hang it when I die
Some say it is perversely, he says the controversy
Is just because most people are too squeamish
They say beauty is skin deep; he just wants his skin to keep
But maybe that’s a little too extreamish
Geoff Ostling has willed his skin to the National Gallery in Canberra, Australia
But the National Gallery has not yet agreed to his bequest.
I am sure if you Google his name you will be able to see for yourself just what he is offering the gallery.
Copyright © mike dailey | Year Posted 2012
Across the countryside and into the grassland pastures;
inhabits the battle fields that segregate a Peony Rose.
Such as the gentle beauty of the rose that threatens those,
who are drawn to the undisturbed meadows of the divine,
and become caught in the thorn barb and twisted twine.
Coveted by the splendor of our sight,
we horde the natural beauty as it is our given right.
The Peony Roses are captivated in our possessive might.
The beauty must defend or to shatter and remain in a vibrant tatter.
For each life is to begin in the epoch,
of uncertainty, fruitless, and in a perilous world of bitterness.
As for all the desires to be fulfilled in the end of the epoch;
seeking meaning and clarity as their souls,
reaching for sweet unity.
In the courts,
man throws his mighty stick,
changing the rules, scheming a new trick.
See the weightless power of man
and the fear at hand that he brings.
In the churches,
the prayers of woman
in a quiet peace,
for a faithful praying
as she sings.
A vicious world with beauty,
hiding as a flower.
Attraction to peril in fury,
as we deviate from a greater power.
Was it a Greater Being’s perfect mistake,
or a beautiful mistake by elements of chance?
In the birth of creativity,
allowing mistakes to creep in.
Seeking the perfect form in nature,
while there is no true formality.
Living with these two extremities,
of the hot desert summers days
and the cold arctic winter nights.
The Peony rose hiding away in the sun rays,
and sleeps under the distant star lights.
Vanity or our pride of youth,
we become prisoners of our own devise.
Dreaming of tomorrow as a given truth.
Selfish thoughts we never considered unwise,
we desire for the things we can never own.
We covet what we see
The beauty we can never be.
The danger of the rose.
The aggressions of a Man
and the tenderness of a Woman
can be read by the hardness of his hands
and the softness of her touch.
Is it the end of a gentle beauty of the rose,
To look at her pedals, smell her sent,
feel her touch,
and still be pained by his thorns in the stem?
Copyright © Mike Jessep | Year Posted 2006
Kids go down
The slide…they head toward the swings
TIME TO SCREAM!
Free time ends
Their parents want to go home
Copyright © JW Earnings | Year Posted 2013
The signs started in December
When she started waking up in tears each night
She was a normal girl with dark brown hair and darker brown eyes
She had plenty of friends and a loving family with just one thing missing
Days passed by and turned into weeks but only felt like a few seconds
Her life just whizzed by faster and faster until it was just a whirr in front of her eyes
Darkness filtered into her heart and mind until she didn't know if she could go on
But she had to. She couldn't let her mother and her sister drown in this same pain
She wouldn't let them.
She pushed all the darkness into the depths of her own heart
In hopes to save the hearts of the two people she had left
Because what else was there to live for now?
The rest of her world had crashed and her mother and sister was all that was left
She wouldn't let them drown in pain too.
She watched as they started to heal in her loving arms
Their hearts started to lighten up once more
But hers was just as dark as it was before
And growing darker day by day
But she wouldn't let that stop her.
Suddenly a year had passed... and then two
It only seemed like seconds to her but everyone else started moving on
Her mother and sister no longer needed her nurturing care
But she needed someone to hold on to
With nothing left for her to take control of, the dark pushed past her boundries
It found a way into her soul
Until all she could see was dark and no light
But her mother and sister were healed now
They didn't understand
The tears came back and engulfed her soul
Bit by bit until she wasn't sure why she was still alive
The grief took over like knives
Piercing her skin over and over and over
It hurt so much.
She started to wonder what it'd look like to be dead
She could see him again if she was
Wouldn't it be so much easier than having to endure this pain?
Wouldn't it be so much easier than having to live knowing she'd never see him again?
So she started to hate herself
All that negative energy was starting to take toll
Everyone around her was breathing while she suffocated more and more by the second
She wished she'd just choke already instead of living in constant pain
If no one would put her out of her misery, she'd have to do it herself
She couldn't see any light anymore
So she grabbed the pill bottle off the shelf and just hoped it wouldn't take long to die
Deep down she still had a spark of light, but she just couldn't find it
And now it was too late in her mind to change, to turn back and try to look deeper
She was done living.
That's when people started to notice that everything wasn't as peaceful as it seemed
They started to see how deeply depressed she had become
They wanted to help her see the light again before it was too late
So they sent her away to see doctors and to take pills to make everything better
It was a start.
She didn't see a change at first but suddenly she could think clearly
Maybe what they were doing was actually going to help her see the light again
Yes, she still wanted to die, but maybe that wasn't the only option anymore
They cared, and behind all their own problems they were trying to understand
They really were trying
Six months longer she would be treated and cared for
Until suddenly she was sent home from her treatment and care with a smile on her face
She had a new perspective
Someone had helped her ignite that spark in her heart until it was a glowing ember
She had been reborn
Sometimes you have to be able to experience the worst of it
To come back shining brighter than before
And if she had died that cold day in October, she wouldn't of ever seen the best of it
Or known that it would get better
and it did!
And she now sits at her laptop, with a smile on her face and warmth in her heart
It's never been an easy road and it won't ever be
But at least she knows she's lived through the worst
And it can only get better from here
So whenever she feels lonely or gets back into that dark spot again
She can look back on what she's learned and can read this poem
And remember that she survived the darkest depths of depression
And she will continue to survive it as long as she lives
Because she is stronger now than she ever was before ?
Copyright © Darian Rehder | Year Posted 2013
I was just trying to remember the past
trying to remember the good people
and the bad people,
that i came across on my way,
i want you to know
that you are among the good people
that left a good trace in my life,
once again i just want to say thank you
for passing through my life,
is so short but is wonderful
i want you here forever.
Copyright © VICTOR BUN | Year Posted 2012
Sometimes my poetry is just a case of words,
and not necessarily my reality;
and that’s what is so beautiful about writing
You can be who you want to be on any level
and tell secrets about fantasies that may never be;
or take trips to other dimensions on mental journeys, or places that some don’t even think exist
They mimic thoughts that manifest themselves as poetry
and rest on pages patiently waiting to adhere
My words are a reflection of my heart
and they reveal the truth behind my mask of fear
they deliver reality doses whether they are just cases,
or me in the absolute right here
My words exude positive intentions;
my imperfections apparent but I accepted rejections
and reversed dejection
and decided to bare all my fantasies, my flaws my very soul
Uncertain how voiced verses appeal to outside sources but internally they set me free
They provide a medium of light and creativity
A chance to apply knowledge and a time for reflecting on and making changes in my frequency
My words are attached to my soul and its overwhelming ability to just be
They reflect what I was before
the choices I’ve made and the reasons that this life is perfect
according to divine order
They represent the voices of my ancestors from the beginning of time
because up until now,
the ending wasn’t within reach so I make sure that I
carefully choose the format and the right place and time
to deliver the message that may be blatant or hidden inside –
of the abstract placements of verbs
giving praise to the source of power that calmly submits to the voice
connected to my words
I am the originator of my own words
I hope that you are inspired, or simply entertained
by the process by which I've placed my words
Copyright © humble b | Year Posted 2012
If given a choice between wisdom and beauty
I’d have to choose wisdom out of pure sense of duty.
Duty will call me to be all that I can
And wisdom will aid in my service to man.
While wisdom is there to be used every day,
Beauty is fleeting in a physical way.
Wisdom is solid – has so many uses
While beauty just lies there, spouting excuses.
Yet, beauty has value that wisdom will seek
And wisdom is silent when others might speak.
Silence is golden and down through the years
I have seen wisdom prevent beauty’s tears
I hope in your traverse through life here on Earth
Through eyes of beholders you see wisdom’s worth.
Copyright © John Posey | Year Posted 2012
Sew to become
Copyright © Paul Geiger | Year Posted 2014
Judas betrayed Jesus’s whereabouts
End, was near
Son of God, knew this
Universe of the Son of the Divine Father, restored
Sins of man forgiven, Prince of our Universal domain, alive in the hearts of his children
Copyright © Amy Rose | Year Posted 2013
I'm really diggin'
the way your swinging
your hips. Stricken!
Fragrance body oils glisten,
picturesque this sultry vision.
into porn star elegance!
purring like a kitten
warm, resting on my chest!
Copyright © Jared Pickett | Year Posted 2014
If there is one thing I remember
It is what life told
Just open your eyes
All that glisters may not be gold
So who is to blame and whose fault I hold
The halo effect, the one in disguise
Manifesting deception in front of thy eyes
Treat one different because of their look
Why read? Judge the cover of the book?
But you do read others because they don’t have the look
If you understand, how long has it took?
The halo effect, we magnify a trait
Condone the flaws, we magnify a trait
Attractiveness, is this what you mean?
All this talk, my perception a feign?
What I see, aint what it seem?
Huh, thanks for this, as well as that.
The halo effect, my mind was hacked.
Copyright © Darian Brown | Year Posted 2013
There's no beauty in the fur of your wings
When I catch you still and pin you down
Why all the flowers you visit
Are each more engrossing in its appeal
And yet you irk my curiosity, your
Splatter of glitter and color in dance,
Across dulling terrains, faces, you're
A beguiling lie, cloaked in motion
All eyes on you, none the wiser
You carry no weight of truth
You don't bear the cold nor the rain
But awaken a slumbering lust for cruelty,
When all is said and all is done,
I see your fragility, short-lived, vibrant, and free
A foil to life's enduring strife and sorrow;
So, you fleeting wandering, your fleeing I follow
You hold us captive, against envy and reason
Because there's beauty in the flutter of your wings
Copyright © Misheel Chuluun | Year Posted 2010
Earths people, it is time to wake up, the ‘Prince’ is alive!
Ascension available, access through your heart
Seek and you shall find!
Time is short, personally unite, connect as one
Rise to the occasion, celebrate the gift of life, bond, with ‘our lord Jesus’ and ‘our Universal Father in heaven, building a bridge, experiencing kinship, between human and spirit
***Happy Easter Everyone***
Copyright © Amy Rose | Year Posted 2013
Love is a wonder
shared by one another
it's the only reason
I'm not six feet under
Love in which I believe
in a will to sustain
I give back to life, now
in dormant states of pain
The power of Love
may not alone be enough
locked inside my dreams
escape only from above
higher than any human being
has ever gone before
I must have evolved
rise above hate, great once more
My Father taught me wisdom
I am imprisoned no longer
now an beast not of burden
I am no lion, I am stronger
on my shoulder sits twin dragons
long awaiting the day
evil forces come forth to
take what Love is left, away
A Hero of Love light
are what the world needs
angels, not demons
exist where ever you believe
follow your heart's direction
and you shall achieve
objects of affection
rid of materialistic greed
My bright energy
has awakened to a fire
never consuming the source
as the flames just grow higher
that is the desire
of a product we call Love
Fear, the counterpart
what I was once made of
I am slowly learning
how to win when my peace
is harder to sharpen
so I have given my pen leave
the sword has its uses
I must say I believe
to vanquish the evil
in the minds too diseased
to serve any purpose
except their own selfish ones
tomorrow a new day
in the clarity of the sun
where we two are now one
and one done now does
bring about a great change
lit by the righteousness of Love.
Copyright © Bj Fard | Year Posted 2013
This mirror doesn’t assess, nor does it judge.
It will never critique nor hold a grudge.
It will always be my glass of reflection
Showing every curve and every rejection.
This mirror stands still, always stands static.
Staring back at me like I’m a fanatic
That loves to preen, loves to prune,
Loves to live in a mirrored cocoon.
This mirror shows the lie I want to conceive
That lets me approve my emotional leave
And not the beauty like my identical twin.
I pretend I’m ugly, I’m too fat or too thin.
This mirror stands still, showing the inside of me.
My insecurities that no one else can see.
It’s my defiant shiny silver friendly opponent
Reminding me I’m that huge monstrous rodent.
Copyright © Lewis Raynes | Year Posted 2016
A five tiered chocolate cake with stars and fontain
cascading rose petals and bottles of champagne
her princess lined gown laced with a metallic accent
embellished with satin rhinestones much to her content
Heavenly white bows at the end every pew,
such breathtaking moment from a spectacular ocean view
A twenty foot high ceiling with crystal chandeliers
Soft sensual music whispers in the air
She took her grand march down the petal marked aisle
At the end of the runner her husband with a smile
Subdued by her beauty the room went still
A fairytale wedding she was about to fulfill
Upon her finger he place a gorgeous ring,
and vowed his love for her as never-ending
Elated inside as tears lined her eyes
Deep in her stomach were butterflies
A union made between a husband and wife
An everlasting promise to a happy life
Along the ground was a silky white trail
Her piercing green eyes he slowly unveiled
Upon her lips he placed a kiss
A moment filled with beauty and bliss
The wedding part began to swoon
A joyful bond in the month of June
Copyright © Rashana King | Year Posted 2010
Her features are not eloquent or of
Something to brag. Thighs, hips, arms, face, stomach—
Fat. Makeup and lipstick, can’t do the trick.
She’s homely from her toes to all above,
Because what she offers isn’t good ‘nough .
Unlike a feather, she floats like a brick.
And like a sloth, her wits are not as quick.
Yet beauty, brains, and all the carnal stuff,
Do no justice to her disposition—
Courage, fervor, a spiritual giant.
Carrying no regard for thoughts of those
Around her, their comments only expose
Their own unseemly, woeful condition.
Morale has won, and she is triumphant.
Copyright © Taylor Holiday | Year Posted 2014
Subha ki hawa jo kashbo-o-yar lay aye
Meray chaman main naseem-e-bahar lay aye.
Tu ronaq-e-mahfil bazm-e-charagan hai sanam
Teri ada meray chehray pay nikhar lay aye.
Chamakti rahti hain ankheen abgeno ki taraha
Nigha uthi tu saroor-o-khumar lay aye.
Sakoon sa rahta hai teri suhbat main aksar
Mareez-e-ishq kay liay sabr-o-qarar lay aye.
Yeh shartay mohabat thi kay wada yad rahay
Woh sham ajab thi jo tera intezar lay aye.
Copyright © Shabeeb Hashmi | Year Posted 2013
The romantic poets were too early to postulate total atheism,
And so freshened up the church by aligning god with nature,
And I believe they had a preference for nature over god or theism,
Because they never posit him as social with high, tall stature.
Keats says that the nightingale exemplifies nature as active,
As bestowing upon all human beings meaning, sense and worth,
Since the bird’s song objectifies how nature truly is effective,
Fulfilled by happiness, and aimed at contentment and rebirth.
Nature triggers in us thoughts and words to settle and allure,
Offers us our language to dispel pain and find the cure,
And Keats contends that poetry, the credibility of its form,
Epitomises what nature proffers, a receptacle rather warm.
When you feel awkwardly suicidal with nowhere else to turn,
Nature lullabies you into your own sense, one you can rip and burn;
No controlled access freeways, no road signs for your safety,
Only soft, quiet communication that's never guilty of brevity.
Just as nature is beautiful, so Keats claims people as beautiful too,
As he uses the word beauty right in the middle of his nature exposé;
He referred to flora, the moon, the stars, the forest and what seems true,
Tnat song of the nightingale that's for anyone, as this bird is not choosey.
He suggests that light or positivity in nature means movement,
That the soft breeze dispels the gloom and mossy pavement;
Quantum physics does reduce matter back down to interactive particles,
In which kinetic energy can be mistaken for minuscule, motionless articles.
His mentor is the nightingale as part of nature’s whole,
No minister or clergyman to advise him on his soul,
Stillness and bird song scent his poisoned air surrounding,
And it is all but for the silence of that beauteous music, astounding.
Nature does not irritate him when he surmises and introspects,
But upholds itself in majestic grandeur with unquestionable prospects;
It speaks about life, your life, your daily happenings and exotic dreams,
And forever exists for us when sense is just not within our means.
Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2015
I do not know?
for bruce springsteen...
it was a rain-swept monsoon day
way back then, so many moons away
when i felt the music strumming in my veins
setting me free like a runaway horse without any reins
you sang of simple truths,
your verse spoke to people just like me
in my lonely, wasted, and desolately quiet night
as you screamed out tragic human wrongs, and of everyone's plight
'bobby jean' spoke to me
of that girl down the street
glimpses of whom, we as innocents would furtively meet
and 'the river' that flowed through my ever-barren heart
led me down further roads of thunder
when slowly i finally learnt that the hardest part was fighting on
and never to surrender
to the hard-luck dreams that were born to run
while i danced in the dark
with memories vivid and stark
even as i whined like that dog who for forever lost his howling bark
and then a 'human touch' came along
and 'better days' seemed real, not just words in a song
and still you sang and swayed and spoke straight into my unseeing eyes
as gardens of secrets were opened, and as your fist punched the skies
in an anger that i too felt and in whose cauldron i too burned
as we saw murder get incorporated, while on its wobbly axis, our fragile world apathetically turned
and then suddenly i was told that i was all grown up
working on a highway of scattered ideals
and absolving myself by sprinkling some coins in a waiting cup
well, after all these years of walking along so many a thorny road
with an armour of your verse covering me, even as i hear them taunt me and even as they continue to goad
but now i can feel myself fading away, into the bleakness of this coming night
just like the ghost of that old tom joad...
Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013
The blind leading the blind, what is seen is how its heard
the thoughts that make the story are lost behind the words
do you see it as you view it, or take a deeper look
do you read into the narrative or judge the cover of the book
Is the figure cold and dirty, the shell of what he's made
or the unforgiven soul, that is waiting to be saved
does that body clad so poorly hold more than what is shown
or just another mannequin, that has reaped just what was sown
Did you spare a dollar this morning or was your vision blind
or was that lonesome beggar just in the shadows of your mind
you see that youth with his hooded clothes and jeans hung round his waist
could he be a high school scholar or does his style not suit your taste
That girl there, with the pushchair, yes she has a name
does she love the child she carried, or did she play a foolish game
And that solemn face behind the bars,the prisoner to his crime
Or the broken life held captive and the victim of a lie
That woman in the wheelchair, animated by expression
does she really have no hopes and dreams or are you too deaf to listen
that classy car, the modest tie, the briefcase at his side
is there a dark deceitful truth, buried deep beneath his pride
no life ahead with a dead end job, shoveling gruel from a grease filled tray
or the maturing child of a broken home, paying bills 'mum' couldn't pay
two babies need to find new homes, is it proof she couldn't cope
or could she not make the perfect life so instead she gave them hope
So they live on a rough estate, they're deviant thieving 'yobs'
and see their buttoned shirts and ties, they're private school 'snobs'
do you just see flecks of peeling paint, view this canvas as a whole
or define each stroke of the artists brush that reach right to the soul
If opportunity played a fairer game and made judgement realise
then possibility could do its part, allow wisdom to remove disguise
yet with judgement passed and truth unseen, realisation is unable
to protect our children and ourselves 'living under the weight of a label'
Copyright © melanie jennings | Year Posted 2013
Super Sonic Sonnet
Complete are my lover’s thoughts in dark brier
With airs of aristocracy’s sweet critique
Her mind takes flight, a supersonic liar
Smiles warmth wears deceit like a prize unique
What grows outside your lovely courtyard facade?
Quadrangular, fortified thick gray walls
Hubris, incongruous, flourishing macabre
Infamous fragile beauty flaws, that’s all
Speeding to the grave, your love is there, dead
Daughters take the splendor, learn mother’s ways
Build other fortresses, stronger, to life’s dread
Days go by, to ponder the doomed accolades
Destinations for lovers and daughters pass
Become the past without wealth that never lasts
Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014
Do you believe that beauty just seen.
I believe beauty is in the eye of beholder.
Variance is the key factor of any gene.
Everyone is beautiful, though some are colder.
Reaching your idea of beauty will never bequeath.
Since your idea of self indulgent looks are bold.
Individuality presses upon appearance of all.
Travel the worlds populous to truly unfold.
You shall see the true beauty of humankind's fall.
Copyright © cecil hickman | Year Posted 2016
One fine day, I planned a visit to zoo
Alone landed amidst the fauna left so few
Treaded merrily on greenery, singing my heart out
Whilst a lion’s scary roar made me shout
‘Ah! Another visitor’, said the lion annoyingly
‘Why should we entertain you?’ said he fumingly
‘What’s the point in wasting your energy and mine?
Making us do the funny acts, do they seem so divine?’
Hearing those words I dared
Reduced the distance, still scared
Said I, ‘Stop fuming King of Jungle, watch out for your age,
Hadn’t I come to visit you, wouldn’t you be bored in your cage?’
‘The answer dwells in your question, silly girl
You humans have no heart of pearls,
The so-called king of jungle imprisoned in cage
Heartthrob of millions I was, at my early age’
‘To meet my family, hope it doesn’t get too late
I need to eagerly meet ‘em all, my cubs, my mate
I still feel them, they are waiting for me
Oh girl! Be kind enough to set me free.’
I couldn’t have done that with all my might
Turned my way, delighted by a peacock’s sight
The multihued beauty was sheltered in a metallic cage
Awe! Gloomy this beauty looked, in distress and rage
‘What is wrong? Do you want to fly?’
It turned around and looked straight at the sky
‘Show me those vibrant feathers, the fan-like crest
Guests would adore seeing you dance at your best’
‘I dance just for my love, my love for rain,
Cool breeze no more likes crossing my lane
Why do I open my feathers without my mate’s presence?
Just to amuse you, I shall do; confined in this fence’
Dumbstruck, I decided to turn my way
Walked ahead in quest of animals happy and gay
There it was! A crazy monkey, flirting and making its choice
Mimicking others and playing around, hear its evil noise
Bouncing, bouncing and dancing, dancing
It ruled as if dungeon’s dominant king
Wow! You look so happy; what’s the reason?
‘Girl! No more fun for you, ‘coz free I’ll be from this prison’.
Two giant men came forward and opened the door
Good Lord! It’ll be free, unkind humans is just animal’s lore!
Monkey screeched, ‘Meet me soon in the nearby forest
Where I meet my pals, play, eat, have fun and rest’
Happy to see the monkey’s joy, I walked ahead
Across the bushes, saw a van, a huge van in red
Giant men carried animals and dumped in the van
Shocked I was to see the sight and reckoned their plan
Why was my monkey friend inside, for what purpose?
It was clear as I read the van’s name, ‘The Great Royal Circus!’
Copyright © Neha Godambe | Year Posted 2012
By Nate Spears
Published 2013 in “Death OF A Rose” By Nate Spears
A diminishing Rose Bush
With every pedal plucked, beauty is fading away
Losing its essence of greatness
As we proceed to deplete its history
Life flows away,
I remain standing above
Stems are bare and exposed
Vulnerable to the world and its nature
I give woes
I give worries
I give troubles
These are my possibilities
Then the death of a rose and destruction
Bare my green,
My DNA shows traces of the best soils
Traced back to my mother’s land
Surrounded by fellow planted gold
Some will never know
Doing well isn’t doing well
We can’t bloom unless we unfold
Reproduce the best again
Stop dying daily for less than a win
There’s nothing we can’t do
That we’ve done once again
The next season will bring new pedals
I will never grow pass go anymore
Next year, beauty will flourish
Next season remains to nourish
Each season we should cherished
In our best moments
Each year is the best one of your life.
Copyright © Nate Spears | Year Posted 2013
Worn pink denim jeans laze over a chair
As her drink sits still on the bar.
Those manicured feet…soft …sweet.
As she smiles, talks and laughs from afar.
Nonchalant hair hangs, unique and precise
This beautiful woman has grace.
It’s blue and red noise filters the air
In this warm encouraging place.
Our eyes glance like guitars,
What song does she sing?
Will her melody massage my soul?
Or was she a drum
That bangs all day long
To walk out leaving me cold?
Copyright © Lewis Raynes | Year Posted 2015
Jack Culotta, Jr.
Is It Just a Beauty Pageant Answer?
World peace is a far-fetched idea in today’s world. Easy to say, hard to do.
But why can’t we work toward something that sounds good to me and you.
The question, though, is…What CAN we do…to make this world a peaceful one?
And to that, I say, erase from your brain the image of a knife, sword, or gun.
But not just that, we must also grab our No. 2 pencil.
And erase away all the other things that make evil a potential.
Rather, we must focus on things essential.
Things like faith, food, and family --- things residential.
The most important way to find world peace is to start with your. own. life.
For married women, start with your husband. For married men, look at your wife.
How can you love your children if you do not first love your spouse?
Because every act of peace in this world is learned in one’s. own. house.
My point, here, is family. Everything starts there.
Try it, if you so dare.
Because while it is “easy to say, hard to do,”
World peace does sound so good to me and you.
So, let us start working towards this moment’s spur,
And stop making “world peace” just a beauty pageant answer.
Copyright © Jack Culotta Jr. | Year Posted 2015