Their brushes wet
In a meadow lush with rain drops and dew
Two canvases stand on easels of wood
Two brushes painting a landscape in hues
The sun shining on nature’s ethereal beauty
They shared thoughts and intimacies
Glancing at each others moods and whims
Sharing their creations in pastels and blue
Lunches in baskets and laughter in old stories
Two lonely painters, sharing different strokes
Artists basking in one another’s dreams
One day a brush was gone
Neither saw the evil swan
Lurking, a silence filled with darkness
Shivering winds defeating loves hopes
Paints covered and brushes washed
Leaving nature’s paradise untouched
Let the serpent roam
They held hands, the canvases complete
Love made them lovers
No serpent would win with such hateful deceit
Higher in the valley, was I with my brush
Painting a love story, of two artists who would blush
If they knew their love story, was a canvas to share
I captured their fragrance of love in the air
I smiled at two souls whom held hands as one
Knowing the serpent was now left defeated and alone
One day, I shall capture this serpent and his evil ways
So that meadows lush with the morning mist
Will remain pure and evil untouched
My brush will strike right through the serpent’s heart
Water lilies turning red, basking in the glory of dusks sunset
Raindrops shall fall like tears from the sky
Knowing lovers avoided the serpent’s maze
And the meadows are now pure
Of the evil ones gaze
Also on my site, more Art
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2017
This once majestic creature - its form
now a dried hide stretched over mutilated bones.
As defenseless in death, as it was in life,
its tusks hacked from its noble skull.
Its ear rests serenely on its shoulder
among dead sticks the carcass testifies
to the barbarity of evil men
front legs folded back where it heaved in agony-
gave its last breath to vile humanity.
Who can explain to children, the reality of
their storybook elephants or zoo friends?
Out in the wild places, even when protected
they succumb to greed and avarice.
Someday the spaces of Africa will be filled
For Silent Ones
Images that make you think - #2
Copyright © Suzanne Delaney | Year Posted 2016
A kestrel dips into an updraft
thinking he knows the world
through silent valleys
around the earth
through the wind
The creature soars ever higher
in great swoops and dives
the horizon curves as it eludes vision
the stars pulse their siren
but thrill denies
their ambient warning
Gust to gust each fades
quicker than the last
whispers carry the weight of wings
and their soulful song breaches sanity
prayers of rightful good
where petty purple banners
crest twinkling hearts
The last thermal ridden
last lyric dies
as flight’s drone fades
upturned wings alone
the sky empty oblivion
as the sun aligns its beady eye
to the looping path of the bird
Two brittle forms
grapple in light
which blots out the senses
what can never be touched
smites the naive bird
an archangel buried
in a crypt
six feet deep.
Copyright © Avery Swarthout | Year Posted 2015
we our souls will spend our time repenting
but the body of truth always comes to light
in drawing an end to come with true believers
so they can see the many faces of the devil
greed in this world money takes over always
as they worship first with the devil’s tools
invading our space all for the sake of black
liquid gold tainted hearts in its color so pure
shame on this world absolutely for mankind
has not learned at all given profound problems
aplenty and stands the testimony of our times
while war does not resolve anything—death’s end
only when family lives are directly affected
they have the fighting right to protect and live
wherever they choose but we are all controlled
and always told what to do openly or furtively
in a system rolling unto the end of mankind
shut eyes in the face of truth and honesty
the whole setup is a joke makes one laugh
countries run amok and history repeats itself
doing the devil’s work at command or by one’s will
while throwing our money around with profligate zeal
like they are usually royalty by some birthright and
this says so much for the world we live in today
looking at their greed it’s oh so clear for all to see that
with food dished out on silver cutlery and others starving
our priorities have run afoul of charity and common sense
running everything into the ground to support their lies
present catching the past and past is the future’s prologue
Earth soon develops a chasmic breach at depths reaching a
heart's song unheard powers unchanging with a most awful
and pronounced Quest of more which destroys the very Soul
in a such a pitiful world so desolate and blind
are pure souls who wish with love to shine bright
one chance will come with a golden sun shining
but will human kind seize the golden glory at hand
two paths lie in tomorrow’s dawning shadow dark—
the path to the end or to the new beginning for mankind
we live ever together striving for a peaceful endeavor
we live at war forever on the very fringes of Hell itself
the way to Armageddon lies open and wants to greet us
the way to the golden life of peaceful bliss is still possible
but at tomorrow's dawn do we change our path or will we
sing the song of stupidity and be dark from tomorrow on
We must have peace . . . In Our Time or Perish Forever!
Gary Bateman, Liam McDaid, and Michael Clarke –
A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
(December 4, 2014) (Quatrain unrhymed poetic form)
Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2014
(a place no one has ever been)
We live out in da country
Miles away from anyone else
Papa and six boys, well, we're young men now....just sayin
Momma died at childbirth when baby brother was born
Love it here, cept at night, sleepin through “the howlin”
Big old wood frame house, island by grassland; den da forest
We keep a farm of pigs, goats, even cows; what da heck for ?
Every night Papa slayed an animal; laid it at da edge of da woods
Never new why until he called us six boys together one creepy night:
“Boy’s, listen to me, listen good….your Papa’s dying,
It won’t be long
The last 20 years, your Momma and I set out here a sacrifice
I don’t know what in God’s name is out there
This thing ain't human
Notice how it’s quiet for a while so you can get to sleep
It’s feeding time
Damn right, it’s eating the sacrifice
Long as we put them dead animals out
When I’m gone, it’s up to you six
Be my Nightwatch, ya hear me boys !
You all are men now
I love each one of you very much”
Father finished da story, den...
Said no one ever been in dem neck of doze woods
He bought property twenty (20) some years ago;
Prior owner told him da whole story
In a way I look at dis big monster as our protector
I've heard screamin at night, den da 'howlin'
O man, den dis loud munchin, chompin, chewin masdacated cry
Den more 'howlin'
Call da police ya say? No way. We safe...
So long we feed him, or it
At night: WHOAAA am scared to death
Papa's been gone a few years now
It’s up to us six to offer up da sacrifice
We older now and don’t all nestle up in one bed
Howlins still be, but we sleep at night best we can
Hated killin doze animals, deys didn’t do nuttin wrong
Dares no other way; we twied once and almost got ourselves scavaged alive
Am not goin out dare, never, not to
A place where no one has ever been
Copyright © Thomas Carney | Year Posted 2014
Two thoughts come to mind this morning. The deficiencies in our
systems of governance -
local, global --
and the first two pages of The End of Faith in which he mistakes political
(acts of war) for
but recognizes understanding the workings of the world is not the same
Every new twinge provokes fear but what is there to fear? That
The year of a man is the day of an inchworm and 267 years on a
A billion of anything is a lot unless it's the distance one must traverse to
How much silence, or tinnitus, can you handle? A chipmunk cannot for
Once the twinge passes I'm off to the next task: building a constituency
for this compassion,
The dialogue starts with a question. To know the question is almost
certainly to find
Conflating questions is the commonest of logic errors. No negotiation
Why not talk while we fight? We can always kill, torture or assassinate
Justice, or retribution if you want, can remain on the table even after we
Nature is my religion, I know no other, and community is my church.
is policy debate. I attend church everyday. Our jobs are hymns (the
and payment for services rendered is sung praise and gratitude. Walking
Strategies to limit or subvert discussion are the only evil. Violence
but not by far the only one. What's the hurry to build a highway or free
The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time and time is the mercy
Copyright © Robert Ronnow | Year Posted 2015
Walking threw the mist of the night,
on the path that lead deep into the forest, in absence of sound;
from one whom was bought, no body shell be found,
of those who might be lost, homeward bound,
as we raven through this hollow ground.
Cross sentences that are incomplete, fractions that make you weak,
threw words that you learned so well, life is a living hell,
don't front and pull back, end of line, number check,
in the story and on track, blank page,
Copyright © Miche Ulman | Year Posted 2013
Frozen and numb
Dwelling in my cold shadows
Shivering me deeply inside
A devil I am
Finding solace In Hell
Where Love is Evilly Blind
Melted and burnt
Relaxing in my warm flames
Comforting me deeply inside
A god I am
Finding solace in Heaven
Where Evil Is Lovingly Divine
Copyright © Guy Mearns | Year Posted 2015
Taoist Elders have spoken--
and who could natural spirits be
to rewrite cooperative history--
nature, and therefore spirit, does not favor kindness.
more recently issue citations
to this Problem of Evil
incommensurabe with Father's Loving Powers.
these evils and unkindnesses,
untimely deaths and dark angry dissonance
recycling fear as fear itself.
Hunting hurricanes and stalking tsunamis
or a smaller issue of,
"I did not see that big red truck coming"
because I was investing elsewhere,
in more internal rumblings.
Yet if evolution has no regenerative morality,
no eco-normic of sustaining health,
then what do we call devolution?
If contentiousness has no real-time content,
then what is this currency called contentment?
If living healthy wealth has no loving synergetic bias,
then what is pathology,
and unkind lack of mindfulness,
If Ego's anthro-centric view of nature's kindness,
then NatureGod's normative and moral ecological regenerative view
of monoculturally competitive human-disnatured absence,
or merely ruminating sad lack of polyculturally balancing kindness,
within as without as within...as below as above...as before as after...
Repeat, reiterate, reconnect, remember, religion as necessary.
Taoism evolves primally co-arising NatureYang as SpiritYin,
both-and, never perfectly either-or, always both kind and unkind potentiating,
If kindness is YangPositive
then absence of kindness, unkindness,
is notnot kindness YinYet echo-balancing YinStill,
transparently bilateral nature as spirit of nature's dynamic spirit,
never one without the other, nondual co-arising,
bilateral appositionals co-gravitating EcoPresent Contenting Now.
Absence of loving kindness
emerges dualdark anger-fear EgoNature/EcoSpirit
If good karma is kinder than unkind
then isn't bad karma unkinder than kind
mutual regard of your left with right mindbody?
We speak of natural ecosystems in physical space
as our Elder right mindbody sees spiritual metasystemic relationships
transactions of co-empathic communication
both healthy-kind and pathology-unkind,
nondually, yet incarnationally, emerging now,
kind nature's default
for notnot GreatSpirit's kind resonantly echoing absence
of FullGraced Karma.
Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2016
There are quite a few essential things our bodies
need when scarcity hits the beautiful land of fruits,
of wheat and cattle; today no rain has fallen on furrows,
drought shows cracks in the soil with uprooted trees!
These lands weren't arid like hot deserts...
birds warbled, flowers bloomed, trees swayed!
Nuclear plants nearby have polluted
rivers and streams, we can't irrigate our farms!
No abundant crops this year, nothing to drink;
shortage of everything including sweet milk,
don't think about tasty home-made bread...
look out! Very tough times are looming ahead!
Hear the elite politicians who swear while folks rant,
" Soon, you will have water and bread! "
Their concern should be focused on the environment
and be guided by wisdom, not by greed!
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2016
You think you’ve gone just far enough,
I could smile knowing you’ve gone far enough that you can’t go back again
You think you were careful but,
I’ve caught a glimpse of your true, wretched form
You think you can find a way into my good graces
I’ve seen what you are, monsters with a friendly costume
You can’t deceive me anymore and, I don’t consort with serpents
You think I’m a game to be played but, trust me, you could never win
Don’t underestimate me
You think I’m a joke but, trust me you won’t be laughing
You think I’m just talking myself up but, trust me, you’re the ones going down
My eyes took too long to adjust
Better late than never
It may take a monster to know one but, I promise my teeth are sharper than yours
My first reaction to the hideous revelation that was your form was to weep
Fall to my knees, maybe even wretch my heart from my chest and onto the carpet
Then I thought about the mess it would make
I decided the only blood that will spill, will be your own
I was not weak, but I had a weakness
A heart of soft gold stitched to my sleeve with care
Now my heart is a stone so heavy
I could kill at least two birds at once
Being the nice guy is a thing of the past
Thanks for freeing me of that softness
You thought I was all sunshine and delicate things
When really I had just been swallowing razor blades
Now that sun is setting and I hope you see it was you who were wrong
Can you feel my darkness coming, because it’s eager to hold you
If you thought I was the one who would just stand still or turn to run
Your gonna be the one with tired feet
I’m not sad anymore
Just sick with the plague of your lies
Contagious, and I’m looking for someone to kiss
Even angels can make themselves wicked
When we do, we take no prisoners
Still think I’m a game
This one is just beginning
Copyright © Alexander Schwartz | Year Posted 2013
I will shoot down the stars,
Watch their blood spill across plains,
Choking and gasping for their last breath,
Before their glow fades away,
Into the darkness of my mistakes.
There will be no more lights,
Guiding the lost back home;
There will be no more wishes,
Wished upon the unlit sky.
For what once represented hope,
So sacred for the desperate,
So wistful for the naive,
Is gone forever, never to return.
People will now hold on to pictures,
Captured of their night glory,
Sinking into fearful reminiscence,
Knowing that when night comes,
They only have the Moon
But I will shoot it down too,
Watch its blood spill across plains,
Choking and gasping for its last breathe.
Copyright © Julia Ho | Year Posted 2016
At the end of Mulberry street
stood a massive old and weathered oak.
With an owl rested there every night , just waiting
for the right meal to wander by,
then silent wings swooped effortlessly down
the massacre hardly made a sound at all.
I watched from my bedroom window each night to
see this act of natural savagery and the feast
Even saw a black kitten become the monster's meal
Yet never did I think of it as barbaric savagery
because man eats whatever he wants with arrogant glee
As master over all creatures and with contempt
for the weak and lame,
Throat cut and bloodied the cow so peaceful
becomes next day's burgers and we bat not an eye.
Unholy indifference reasoned to be a normal act
by we lords of the earth, we takers of all weaker
Great to find the old Mulberry still a launching pad
after these past decades.
And man changes not except his clothes and his
ideas on his superiority over known and unknown Universe.
Robert J. Lindley
April 7th. 1992
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015
As early instinctive predilections erected
a shadow appeared in my mirror.
A more safely remote "Problem of Evil"
evolved into THE problem of my own irresistible Evil nature:
My longing to love mutually beloving relationship
that could only be naturally good and true
if spiritually "evil."
Yet when I spoke with Elder trees,
listened to mourning dove sighs,
watched seasons surf with equipoise values,
I felt omnipresence
still-struggling toward an eco-diastatic culture
of radically inclusive omnipotence,
Natural systems seemed bisexually organizing and regenerative,
or human nature cannot thrive,
a bicameral balancing head within Earth's Nature-Tribe.
Evil evolves more justly
when spelled backward.
My Solution as Live
as polyculturally cooperative as possible.
Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015
The best of nature lies in thy bosom
mother Africa, the toast of continents
your strength and opulence draw
kings and nobles to endless
rift of spoil sharing and gun trotting.
Africa! The strength of
the universe, the last bride of
nature with sumptuous virginity
from Somalia to Kenya, deep
down the creek of Delta to
the arrogant diamond of the
Zulus, earth cannot rival
thy blessing and extravagant
Shameless kings seek second
dominance in oil rich north
with flying birds and explosions,
they sowed corruption in Naija
they brought AIDS and HIV with their planes
and then send grants to mock us
Yet the African spirits wax stronger!
inside thee lies peace
endowed by creation, but
these evil emissaries of
violence sowed poverty
and grief in thy land
knowing the volatile nature of
thy productivity. Alas, in torrent
we have reaped pains and bloods,
four years drought in Kenya, two
months xenophobia in south Africa,
endless genocide in Sudan
endless NATO assault in Libya
with piracy holding sway in
Somalia, oh mama Africa!
yet thy love intoxicates me
like the tribal white wine of Iwaya!
they tell our stories in biased satellites
they label us evil and apish
oh Mama Africa, arise, arise !
out of thy trial in awesome purity.
Arise! Arise! Arise!
Arise from thy slumber and give
hope to our fleeing children!
Bring them from the south,west
and north and let the
eastern hemisphere release
Now there is war in Africa
but soon there shall be
unassuming peace and
discoveries of earth
noble secret in thy enclave.
Copyright © GABRIEL LOLA | Year Posted 2011
When chaos brings civilization to its knees
From world wide pandemic critical disease
Or when a tsunami consumes everything beyond the shores
Swallowing the landscape and changing life as we know
Earthquakes shake the very foundation of this world
Or an astroid penetrates the cradle of birth
Bring us back to the primitive unleashing the truth
From the umbilical chord we are more ferocious than rabid wolves
And we will kill fellow man just to survive
Or just for the desire of taking ones life
What is compassion but a dead corpse on the road
Adrenalized by fear no time for sorrows
No need to worry about a world war zombie apocalypse
We're already flesh eating monsters wearing dead skin
Most people panic when they lose internet or their lights
Autonomy is just a word most people can no longer define
And your money isnt worth *****so forget trying to buy
Your way out of cleansing while you run out of time
So learn to die well and hold your loved ones real tight
As you pray that your death will let you ascend to new heights
Beans, bullets, and bandaids are all that I'll need
To keep population zero from taking over me
**** being hopeful could we really be so naive
To think that in these days we could some how find peace
When our mother earth gets restless and releases all of her worst
The only thing more destructive is our human nature
Copyright © Jesse James Forster | Year Posted 2013
Far-reaching the flames engulfed the remote forest,
Impetuous haste of wild dogs to grasslands,
Resonant croaks of ravens with burned feathers;
Escape from death, fleeing into the darkness of night.
The arsonist had no love for Nature or Man;
he started the fire to appease his pleasure,
he'll be eternally damned for burning down
the forest: to every creature it was a treasure.
He didn't feel sorry for the leaping wildcat,
for the huddled owls that were soundly sleeping,
for the wingless butterflies that fell on his hat;
how could he justify a behavior so horrifying?
The police found him dead by the ash-filled pound,
he struggled for breath writhing on the hot ground.
Written on 4/23/2016
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2016
I did not find myself to be so important
So I ask my friends do I seem distant?
When I ask the question I had received an answer, Yes
So I think that made it clear that I had been not the best
I am a friend of a friend that talks so many things
That friend talks to much it is insane and insanity it brings
I do care, about my friends they are all good people
They tend to stand on their high steeple
Today I find myself not so aware
Disbanding my fear of regret and care
Walking many different paths I see that I have found holes
It is the path that people choose to use to fuel their rage with coals
Coals are partially burnt wood or fossils a piece of fuel
It is the source of burden and fire a rage of emotions that stands cruel
It can be warm and caring, but it also can be baring
I just start to feel so low, below the ground I keep on staring
I reach for my friends so many times I feel so ignorant at times
Just once I feel I should not rely on them when feeling I can not find
I dig my hole deeper and I can not climb out
For some reason I am just full of doubt
I care about so many things and what I have is confusion
One person should be all I should think about to get out of that illusion
My battle in my heart and mind is not at all so pleasant
I feel so alone in an island that is shaped like a crescent
My emotions is like coinciding with a diameter of the semicircle
Not a full emotion that is complete like a circle
My feelings is circular full of incomplete thoughts, so much deeper
I feel it will wake up my evil half a evil soul that is a sleeper
What question should I ask myself? to believe that I am not so alone
As I feel like a person who is deteriorating to the bone
I ask my friends the same question once again
I figure I should do it, to know what kind of feelings I should end
So many thoughts that come out of my feeling
I feel like my friends take, an emotional trauma of stealing
They ask me questions and I answer theirs
But when I need mine answered I feel burning inside like a flare
Are they even friends when they do not take me serious in anyway
Just put me in my hole cause I feel nothing in their will be getting in my way
It's just so simple to answer someones problem
I answer friends with beauty of a rose, but when they answer mine I get the stem
I know the stem is very important in life, with out it how can a rose be a rose
With a hole to put the root and stem in how can it grow
The words we speak I guess is like all natural things we reap and sow
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013
Wind upon the crag
fanned moorland fire kills.
Copyright © harry horsman | Year Posted 2012
Pardon me bleeding piece of earth
I see your excruciating pains
Like a pregnant woman in labour date
Loosing her beauty along with stains
Creatures atimes welcome evil as fair
Slowly quelling nature in nature rage
Visiting souls in journey not fare
Mother earth our boat through age
O' remember us in your days
For you are still our home
Good or evil you richly repays
So lets find her freedom
Come, come the earth is crying
Lets find a way to stop her dying
Copyright © Mathias Yakubu | Year Posted 2011
i shall take out your
gold and silver masks to keep
all simply nature
Copyright © Abdullah Alhemaidy | Year Posted 2016
Thump, thump, bumpty, bump
I can hear you above
My instincts have kicked in
I can't eat anymore
I can only imagine what you taste like
My mouths watering
That savoury moment
Please for heaven's sake
Stare in my eyes
So I can hypnotize
Forget to lock my cage
Then I will make my way
Up the stair
To meet my prey
Copyright © Tahira Parveen | Year Posted 2016
I twist my speech to seem, and be, as white and spotless bone.
Silence 'flecting, like a mirror, on the wall to show
man, so hypocrite and liar. This is who we are.
Man! The curse of sin has brought you far,
into the pits of lusting pyre. Engulf our spirit's flame.
Set afire desire for spit and skin,
bitter sweat, blood, and orifices.
The dawning of Aquarius. The sun has set on Pices.
This crooked generation, like as Sodom and Gomorrah.
As that faithful Lot, I am, and live amongst the tares.
My neighbors live and speak as I, when I can find no faith.
I guilty of the same as they, the Scripture saith.
I e'er be found in heaven... it be not that I am good.
Nor can I love God enough to trust Him as I should.
My own love and faith is full of fault and fear.
My faults and fears, my sin, is loud and clear.
If Father, Son, and Holy Ghost
impute not Life, a man is lost.
Copyright © Chris Tian | Year Posted 2014
Sometimes it unleashes its tentacles,
and tries to drag our blissful spirit
with it, into the nothingness that
is darkness. The monster loves to feed
on our fears, anger, and lust.
Sometimes the monster is fed so well,
that it consumes the soul of its host,
or turns its host into an evil vassal.
To close its portal within us, we need
spiritual nourishment each day....
Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2015
It's obvious, heroes are pretty easy to write
it's not hard to make a good guy that will fight for his rights
villains are the ones that take more consideration
they take more skill and wit to write malicious indignation
a hero is sturdy, just, good, demanding
a villain has to be broken but still standing
Sure heroes get the girl, decide the villain’s fate too
but let's be honest it’s the villains we relate to
Copyright © An Anomaly | Year Posted 2016
I was walking down at Green-bank park
Rather frightened as it was dark
There I fell into this ditch
And came across the most gruesome witch
At first she scared me half to death
As she sat there to my left
Her nose more pointed than I had seen
Face covered with moles and eyes so green
Her jacket was torn her hair was a mess
And holes were ladders to the hem of her dress
Before I could catch my breath with time
She began to sing some words of rhyme
Rickety .. Rackety I am a friendly witch
Be my friend and I shall grant you a wish
Just don’t you listen to all they say
Look here us witches are happy and gay
Look here us witches are happy and gay.
Then she told me a story of a witches life
Condemned bad and gone was her right
Burnt at the stake long in the past
But no evil spell did she ever cast
Just helped the people of the wood
For it was not them that misunderstood
It be the greedy ones of her time
Then took the medicine and called it mine
Then took the medicine and called it mine
So the tale they tell of Halloween
Is far from the truth, from what I had seen
Just look little girl as you will see
I may be ugly but evil not me
The cats we kept took care of the mice
And the hats we wore kept our ears from ice
We cleaned our homes with shrub broom
As rosemary and lavender fragrance our room
As rosemary and lavender fragrance our room
Do tell do tell of our nurses today
Witches the same in their own kind of way
Potions and tonics from the herbs of old
Combine the mixture of modern parocetemol
These wise and gentle ladies of our past
Only took upon one the doctors task
So little ‘O’ bright girl, now do tell me your view
Of withes and nurses do tell who’s who
Of witches and nurses do tell who’s who
Oh sweet lady for judging it is I whom feel the fool
But your memory is of evilness of that you were so cruel
In a sense, innocent I now know you to be
So I shall not run, I shall not turn and flee
The wish of that I ask, to be that of your friend
Now I truly understand this message that you send
No more shall I be afraid or listen to their say
Of all you witches now I know to be so happy and gay
Of all you witches now I know to be so happy and gay
Rickety….Rackety I’m just a friendly so said witch
I possess no magic to grant you a wish
I only cared and took the sick in hand
Using the remedies produced by our land
Using the remedies produced by our
Copyright © julie dalby | Year Posted 2008
Winter never surrenders,
It ploughs through the soul
And freezes the people.
For all time its fierce fangs
Inject bitter venom
Into its victims.
Some fall prey of a sudden
Trapped beneath the surface
Of the ice. Others fall asleep,
Unable to fight any longer.
Still some brave the bite
For the sake of others
In order to help them
Safely return to spring.
But winter conquers,
Such is life they say,
Though they wish
Copyright © Mary-Catherine S. | Year Posted 2014
The succulent trees with healthy branches
sways gentle in the murky atmosphere
The compulsion of nature could not hold out
It rumbled the sky with a desperate shout.
And the delightful afternoon emerged and
warms my heart with comforting vibes
granting me a tranquil place to hide.
The full moon spilled hot sun over my skin
After weeks of wetness and sadness
Without warning it salutes us with unpredictable madness.
For one moment it feels like summer and everyone
was out enjoying this fine weather.
Bewildered by this unexpected charm
It was fun to break this prolonged obscurity
and soaked myself in Spring's warmness.
Looking beyond the peculiar weather
On a day like this I found pleasure lying in the grass
and staring directly into the deceptive sun hoping to get some consolation
But instead I found myself on a strange journey denouncing Lucifer.
The voice of immorality kept shouting out
spitting venom and wavering doubt
The voice of evil keeps drowning me out
How much I want to break out.
I pushed desperately to get a word in
But the loathsome voice kept cutting in
The diabolic forces wrestled with me
For almost two hours I kept rebuking it.
But the more the voice keep crying out
Raging out of control, making false accusation
disdaining everybody, including the innocent ones.
A double tongue and a double voice kept
raging havoc by my side
I fought tirelessly to quite his turbulent spirit
But he kept chatting on with charm and viscous horns.
He would not admit to his narcissistic reaction
so I engaged him by the running stream
And wrestled with him on top of the bridge
We struggled for a while before he reconciled
I went up the slope in the thick bushes
And alas! he surrendered and admit to his reprehensible behavior
Without warning everything was instantly over.
Copyright © Christine Phillips | Year Posted 2016
Lines and verses
Fragments of an author's soul
Frozen ink on paper
School during a civil war
In six easy steps
A place of learning and reason
A propaganda soup cauldron
A refuge of normality against war's insanity
A broken concrete skeleton
Save for the paper ghosts
A ransacked classroom
The silence gives no clues to the tragedy
Only a fleeting news item
From survivor's stories with survivor's guilt
Buried in an archive
Its paper ghost exorcised
From the world's conscience
By the weight of the world's problems
A library bookcase
Now a classroom carcase
Books long since burnt
First some were subversive
Then all were subversive
Cremated by the howling inferno
Set by howling savages
Firelit featureless faces
Ashes scattered to the wind
Paper ghosts of long dead authors
Released from their paper prison
A carbonised carbuncle now their marker
On a silent playground
For those with homes
And those without
Record your feelings
Forget strict rules
Everyone else has
"Autumn in a barren land"
The assignments completed
Collected, sorted, marked and graded
Waiting to be returned to eager poets
But never returned
Captured soul fragments
Now just children's paper ghosts
In an empty room
The boy who doesn't understand
Backward sevens and zees
No matter how many times corrected
An illegible scrawl smeared with teardrops
He cried whilst he tried
"Well done! Good effort!"
With a smily face
The inseparable friends
Never miss a class
A joint effort, or so they say
The stronger one sharing the glory
Whilst holding her friend until she stops screaming
"I enjoyed this - thank you both!"
The orphaned boy
One of many
Lonely in a crowd of lonely children
Sympathy divided and rationed
And dried up long ago
A blank page
"Please keep trying. You are not alone"
The silent girl
No one knows why
Desperately tries to tell her story
Imprisoned by horror
Her poetry an escape to normality
Pinned on the notice board
A gold star stuck on the corner
More deserving than those worn by bandoliered generals
That the war seemed to spawn
"The leaves covered the ground
Blown by a chill wind
Pages torn from nature's book
Their veins a portrait of their mother tree
Broken by the storm
Icicles grown and shattered
A litter of sparkling diamonds
Cherry stains mark the earth
A muddy footprint a sign of humanity
Amongst the broken branches
The poems covered the classroom floor
Blown by a cold wind
Leaves torn from civilisation's book
Their writing a portrait of their mother land
Broken by the storm
Windows blown and shattered
A litter of sparkling diamonds
Blood stains marked the carpet
A muddy bootprint a sign of inhumanity
Amongst the broken desks
The forgotten children evacuated
Maybe some survived
Written 12th March 2017
Entry to "upside down world" contest
Copyright © Mark Martin | Year Posted 2017
Who's responsible for Wounded Knee,
Guernica, My Li, or the Holocaust?
Was it God or Lucifer? If God doesn't
prevent evil, how is He different from
the Devil who's accused of causing it?
Who created our Universe with all its
chaos, death and destruction? Who
put mankind on Earth to destroy
the planet's fauna and flora? Was
it Mother Nature? God? Or Satan?
If you don't know who Lucifer is—
just look into the mirror and you'll
at once recognize his familiar face.
The Prince of Darkness is in your
eyes, for he is just you and me....
You don't have to be a satanist,
a pessimist, an atheist or a fatalist
to recognize the Devil in your soul
—pretending to be a holy angel
while carrying out many evil deeds.
Beelzebub has a demon put aside
for you and me and everyone else.
A devil who's taking over your body,
your soul, and your entire world.
If people are not the Devil's
children, then who is? Can't you
see all the darkness inside us?
Copyright © Ross Vassilev | Year Posted 2016