As darkness falls above the eastern skies,
with dawning shadows ending heartache’s woes.
Along the path wherein my future lies
behind the setting sun a light yet glows.
The barren earth divides a vast expanse
as shadows cast by dawn are left behind.
The glow of light in contrast to enhance
the darkness of my perished love unkind.
The sun sets over deserts reddish hues,
beyond the treeless plain, in hope I prance
with new direction my belief renews.
To west I head without a backward glance.
What lies ahead beyond the Nullarbor,
a dream of good to feel alive once more.
23rd August, 2016
Copyright © Teppo Gren | Year Posted 2016
~ CALYPSO ~
Odyssey of the open ocean
Eclipsing the performance of Heaven's delight
A beautiful name whispered along the night
Calypso enhanced with enchanted lullabies
Sweet silver streams, dreamy epic diamond dreams
Serendipity falls in like mist, under the majestic marble moonlight
Calypso, you belong to--
--Sunsets of the secret sea.
Mysterious-- many precious places to go,
Calypso --free flowing, floating legend!
Ride the beastliness breeze above the sea
Whisper, Calypso come for me!
Beautiful Comforting, Calypso Carry me!
Reflections easily deliquesce into thin air
Sedating the open waters -Voyage- view
Visionary Vessel above liquid level,
as divine in spirits she sails.
CA-LYP-SOO-- Nymph Nature Name
CALYPSO, the journey of all journey's
For all eternity----------------------
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013
I envy those living as part of the wild
For I too, once heeded its call
A smoldering ember since I was a child
Urge, and belonging all part of the thrall.
I’ve enjoyed the fresh taste of a sparkling stream
Felt the tremble as you push through your fear
Stood high on a peak admiring Gods scheme
Felt both delight and remorse for taking a deer.
I’ve walked for weeks through valleys and trees
Traversed mountains with lush native grass
Felt the warmth and the cold of high country breeze
Navigated tussock, forests and high country pass.
I’ve smelt autumn rain as it mingles with dirt
Enjoyed the isolation of me and my views
Valued crude shelter while nature unleashes its hurt
Watched forest birds doing their best to amuse
But I’m now destined to be one of societies slaves
In a world where worth is measured by cash
Where worry and stress are delivered in waves
Where those without are regarded as trash.
I felt most alive in the middle of nowhere
Now dead when hemmed by city and streets
Nothing compares with fresh mountain air
Living free, no money, bills, or receipts.
Copyright © Mark Woods | Year Posted 2015
This beautiful journey begins
From a courtship routine
The male perch themselves on leaves
And create a glorious scene
Waiting for a female
Just to fly on by
Now he has his chance
But, she’ll be the one to decide
The male needs to find out
Whether she’s been fertilised
If she’s already pregnant
He’s soon going to realise
She’ll release a powerful chemical
Which is called ‘pheromone ‘
That tells him she’s unavailable
So he might have to fly and roam
Soon after they have mated
She looks for a place to lay
Laying her tiny eggs
Mostly oval in shape
She can lay two hundred or more
Just in a single day
But she needs to find a milkweed
On this beautiful sun spring day
The tiny little caterpillars
Start to grow inside
Eggs no bigger that a pin heads
And thats no word of a lie
They feed on the milkweed
And the enzymes in the egg
Until these little caterpillars
Start growing up really big
Now when they hatch
From their eggs
They will eat and eat and eat
Eating up everything
Of those milkweed leaves
They will start expanding
Getting bigger and bigger
Shedding their skin several times
Now that is really clever
Then they just stop eating
And know their time has come
For their stunning transformation
Four stages have begun
They’re find a special twig or leaf
And hang them-selves upside down
Then spin a silky cocoon
Where they won’t be found
It’s called metamorphosis
Turned into a shiny chrysalis
Inside the caterpillars’ changing
Into a beautiful butterfly
It dissolves itself into a soup
That’s truly organised
Inside a process is taking place
It’s forming disc’s, a body, a face
This wonder of nature you can see
When they emerge victoriously
This transition takes some time
For the birth of an exquisite butterfly
One of nature’s beautiful scenes
Celebrating new birth in spring
The reproduction of a butterfly
A remarkable cycle, that does not die
© Copyright KC.Leake
6th April 2015
All Rights Reserved
Copyright © kevin leake | Year Posted 2015
I am seated in a bed-like rock
Under the foothills this is a single block
The Sun rises behind my back
Though I face hills in the west, its rise I could track
The dawn delightfully unfurl
Mother nature decorates herself, like a girl
The valley is full of greenery
This is a soul soothing summer scenery
Flies are flying in group
With joy and strength, to recoup
Honey bees are busy flying from one to other flower
A fresh flower spreads the fragrance in the air
A group of sparrows fly at a low height
Jubilantly enjoying the new light
A tiniest sparrow dances by jumping from one leaf to the other of a plant
On seeing this, I too wish to jump out of joy, like an infant
Peacocks register their scream from a nearby place
I could hear well, as this area is ruled by peace
From a distant rock, a pair of peacock looks
Displaying the richest colors of their outlooks
Birds potentially program their offspring by singing to their eggs, at a short distance
One may think that they raise the voice with a grievance
Before me, a rabbit runs ruthlessly
Forgetting self, I sit here like lifelessly
Fight of monkeys upon trees on the top of the hill, comes like a melody
Free for all, as the whole range is under His custody
Clouds try to attract my attention with an array of colors
Peace as the Prince on the stage, countless others are actors
Breeze blows as if to say she is the most adorable among all
Of course, choosing the one among all is hard to tell
This is a mind moving morning
In my life, this day is a fine inning
My heart desires to lie under this foothill
But my soul is not full
as my mind yearns for my love
Of course, this place is like a paradise, as above
If I am to cherish my love even in a paradise,
the power of love, you may be pleased to praise
Though I stay away at a far off place
The feelings of romance runs like a race
To live here, to the God, I shall be abundantly faithful
But to conquer my soul, other than such love, nothing is more powerful !
Copyright © V.MUTHU MANICKAM | Year Posted 2017
Listen to the jazz instrumentals of Masekela,
as you take red wine outside a thatched
shelter in a beach in the Western Cape.
Enjoy a hearty meal of bobotie (meatloaf),
chakalaka (a spicy vegetable relish),
tomato bredie (a lamb and tomato stew),
potbrood (pot bread),
melktert ( dessert)......
and other forms of cuisine;
have a siesta in the canvas tents,
then you visit the misty mountains
of the Magoebaskloof.
To feel at one with nature,
visit Limpopo, and get lost in the awesomeness
of sighting elephants, lions, rhinos.....
You'll see baobab trees stretching their branches
to the red, setting sun;
get dazzled by the Limpopo river's majestic
flow to the Indian Ocean.
Introduce yourself to all kinds of dialects and people;
Africans, Dutch, Indians, and Malaysians.
Watch their traditional dances,
and listen to their folklore - it will remind you
we are from the same Womb; Earth.
See Nelson Mandela in people's smiles and way
of doing things in the cities, streets, and towns.
Listen to South Africa's unifying anthem,
as you take a ship back home......
Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2017
A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013
In a new road,
Rain will fall,
Wind may blow,
Swifting our woe.
The road forever on and on,
Many paths to choose,
Many paths to take,
Through the shadows,
Through the night,
Clouds going by,
There we will lie,
Seeing shivered land,
Seeing the dead seas...
Through the edge,
Miles to go,
Rain may fall,
Through the nightfall,
Through the twilight,
Through the dusk,
Through the dawn,
Paths on and on,
'Till the road comes along...
Copyright © Ruben A. Hernandez Diaz | Year Posted 2013
I AM A WATER LILY
When blue skies kiss whisper and queer ripples quiver...
I drink on sun rays and bathe from falling rain,
I stand there afloat: graceful and reserve.
From pink petals shimmer, I flush also a moonlit snow,
honeyed aroma I puff and puff chasing wind curves
thrilling some senses, awakening some nerves!
Upon gush and waves of bursting rainbow colors,
I lay atop, my rhizomes rise, they waft....
Around my roots are croaking frogs and slimy eels,
they thrive for I supply their daily meals.
Day by day in my life, I live to be pure,
my heart beckons heaven yet my roots down here...
Even if currents trample me and storms blow me,
upon seas and oceans, I trip like a sailing ship
but upon force, upon wonders I shall abide
giving my everything-- my best white shots!
Note: Rhizomes - a horizontal plant stem with shoots above and roots below
serving as a reproductive structure
~~WATER LILY ---purity of heart ~~
Sponsor Andrea Dietrich
Contest Name Picture Yourself as a Flower!
10:29 am, May 05, 2015
Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo - Fraser | Year Posted 2015
Far away from this bonded crowd,
Far away from these layers of
Oh wings of the air glide me away,
To the world, world above the
To the giant mountains of mist,
Where sparkling houses of rain
World beneath where would be
And sun rays where will be cold
Where I won’t be bound by laws,
And I could speak freely about
things I love aloud,
Yeah to the world with cloud
above the clouds,
Where everything just everything
will be allowed.
Sliding on morning dews that stays
Diving in the night’s sky that looks
like morning light,
With no paths to follow,
I’ll glide free and fast,
Yawing, pitching, bouncing,
Like the endless penumbra it’s
unknown where I’ll last
Yeah endless it is,
And it’s unknown where I’ll last
For Above the CloudsContest
I think I am late :-( posting this
Copyright © Shiraz Iqbal | Year Posted 2013
The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare
You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark
The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy
You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark.
Copyright © John Paluszek | Year Posted 2013
Tired waters push their way through rocks;
Rocks hugged by rotting ivy's green,
Green surrounds the wild forest's stream,
Stream flows calm, through places unknown...
The river flows to embrace the sea,
Her delighted droplets swirl, now free,
The journey ends; none can disagree -
The sight is pure tranquility.
Written by Sneha RV
For Nette's 8 Line Contest - (Theme - River)
Posted 9th Sep 2015
First 4 lines - Last word of one line is the first word of the next line
Last 4 lines - Monorhyme
Copyright © Sneha RV The Literature Lover | Year Posted 2015
Enter a storybook tale
Where I can be
The heroine you hail
Lucid dreams of soft reflection
A touch heated with lust and desired protection
A breathe a gasp as we succeed
Join the fairytale with me
Valiant night within dark eyes
the right movement and I make them shine
like moonlight on the steamy hot spring
care to follow for a little dip with me
Trailing like the water at my fingertips
Grasp me around my hips
As close as the breeze on my skin
Whisper lies as I let you in
Lips mumbling up my thighs
bare heart exposed to the sky
fire burning in my veins
Am I a mistress of this lust or simply a slave
Trembling with desire
Take me till we've lost count of the hours
enter this storybook tale
Where I can be the heroine you hail
Copyright © Jay Loveless | Year Posted 2012
I go to the woods, to the woods I go;
To sit and be alone.
To listen to the voice of above;
to feel, to know, his great love.
I go to the creek, to the creek I go;
To cleanse in the waters pure.
To renew as I was at birth;
To pay homage to Mother Earth.
I go to the fields, to the fields I go;
To welcome each new harvest.
To be grateful for blessings bestowed;
For all who is born, and all who grows.
I go to the sky, to the sky I go;
One day when my journey here be o'er.
Until that day, I walk my road;
Where it takes me, I shall go.
May all your journeys be blessed ones.
Darlene Doll Smith
Copyright © Darlene Smith | Year Posted 2015
This is the tale of Sandy the snail...
Who always wore her hair in a ponytail...
She was different from others and I’m sure you’ll agree...
As her colors were bright neon fluorescent green you see...
She wasn’t content just moving slow...
She wanted to run like a Marathon Pro...
Up early each morning...
When the Sun arose...
She did pushups, pull ups and touched her toes...
Alas... it was then she realized this was futile...
As everyone knows...
If she had feet, she would be more mobile...
Copyright © kj force | Year Posted 2014
Taking baby steps these days,
they hurt less than leaps and bounds.
An unusually negative way of saying:
small steps feel more contenting right now,
than larger plans for different memories.
What are these larger plans for different memories
you back away from right now?
How might you hang onto this dream
or avoid this nightmare
while continuing with your contented smallish steps?
Could you write and storytell yourself through both messages,
perhaps nesting one within the other,
usually the smaller steps within the larger praxis and storyline
like a personal journal entry,
nested within each Earth Day headline.
Of which hopes and dreams is your life iconic,
as it is,
and becomes obvious by simply unweaving your story backward,
back through Earth's spacetime enculturing history?
How you are different and the same as your grandmother
writes the most recent episode in your epic
of how you are different and the same as Grandmother Moon,
languages the most recent episode
in the universal epic
of how you are different and the same as your Elder cousins,
Sun and Earth,
Yang on Yin, yet again,
Fire's dynamic effect on Water's self-absorptive evaporation.
Let's Spring those Baby Steps, girl!
Stop with this winterish wilting in silo of shadow,
OK, so, who and/or what's next?
I need to find a less expressive way of living.
Oh, wait, that's called not living.
Hmmm, what to do....
Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015
My heavy heart ever sighs for you
A syrupy silent smile, awaiting every move
Eyes nomadic, setting like a sunset on the edge of mars
Gazing… as if to focus on the rarest star
There is a sweetness that I crave to taste
A wild, foreign but trusting terrain
Feverish fingertips padding gently on rippling arms
Stroking the soft ancient bark of driving charms
Cape Horn’s stormy seas await our return
Crash your mind on my lands so lost, so burned
As flames lick my tear-blemished blood
The hot winds of fervor rattle my bones to mud
Keep your eyes set on the edge of the red dunes
Of which the mighty tempest runs free from doom
Into the lungs of pending exhalation,
You rest ever upon my endearing obsession
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2014
It is the old man from the threefold of life
To whom I have taken control on this
But the poet whatever
The cause should be
The one who must walk
Along the concept
For which beauty fades from
Measure of apparent
Size of naturalistic explanations
Regardless how rich your heart is
And none of us is able pass through.
It is the poet who is living
Psychologically into this burrow of guesses
And paradises within him
With reflection and with correction
Of life this creates such
A record that commands he must live or die.
Copyright © George Zamalea | Year Posted 2012
i tore my body from home to start the roam
in mind,only one thing, leave the rotten dome
i left earthly treat, to those with dandy walk
left them in shallow swamp, with gibberish talk
hill is destination, a mind had been taught
aiming a raw feeling,a thought had been wrought
all i needed was a mind and a heart and a feel
with a little lore, and oceans of raw peotic thrill
spot gained, the aim reached a book was laid
the lined hues, the heavenly news, all was read
no word was misspelled, no verse was misread
every thing showed his word in every sense, said
so i picked from nature all the words, made a wreath
the bouquet smelled, only fragrance you could breathe
when your self makes you look just inside your ego
you will miss the raw beauty gained from nature's flow
and by upward ponder, the whole spirit, you achieve
up where the pure winds blow, you will never grieve
Copyright © Lonely Shepherd | Year Posted 2015
A pebble is loosened from the peak
and starts to tumble down
it dings and bounces merrily
oblivious to all around
it slowly gathers speed until
it picks up stones along it's way
growing in proportion
they journey, laugh and play
and as it rumbles down the hill
the pebble feels alive
moving, always moving
with purpose it seems to strive
and so it is with love you know
it starts so small and slow
but given time it gathers speed
and continues then to grow
and like the pebble gathering stones
it can grow out of control
crushing those within it's path
when and where we never know.
Copyright © Trudy Diane Rider | Year Posted 2008
Very Welcome Neighbors II
The Reticulated Woodpecker mates, made it through the winter……
…..offspring, one of each gender arrive with fanfare!
About one quarter the size of each parent, of course the female is the smaller bird…..Ohh, the splendor of the male sibling born with a complete fiery red-
A set of a mini-mom and dad complete. Their parents hangout with them for weeks y
While they learn to f
And become self- sufficient.
The cozy nest they pecked open wide and filled with natures comforts the parents had prepared in the Winter atop a dying palm.
The lovely carved out safe-haven survived through the Spring…..compelled by instinct, the two Adult love-peckers go their own way…
…leaving their children behind in a familiar Patch of the woods with their home. p
The siblings have yet to stray too far. Gazing at the female as she searches A
what is left of the dead palm after the nest segment fell to the
off from all the soaking rains…
palm now three quarters of its original height and rimmed with a rigid new opening.
I have my eyes on you two!
Copyright © jill spagnola | Year Posted 2016
I do not know?
The walk. ( Loop poetry )
As I walk down country lanes
Lanes of life that wind and turn
Turn memories into dreams
Dreams of love without concern,
Green fields laid with low hedges
Hedges homes of natures wildlife
Wildlife giving sense to existence
Existence enabling day, nightlife,
Thoughts of abundant fruit trees
Trees of elegance tall and proud
Proud of our abilities, achievements
Achievements with a positive shroud,
Our willingness to give or receive
Receive thoughts of happiness
Happiness our greatest emotion
Emotion that gives us hopefulness,
At the end of this lane of life
Life becomes understandable
Understandable and relevant
Relevant making life sustainable.
Copyright © Roy Pett | Year Posted 2016
On open sky
A chartered course found
Resting on lofty winter boughs
Swooping like magical kites, a swirling dance of flight
With miles still to go, fearless in their mission, cackling caws singing in
March 20, 2017
Copyright © Paulette Calasibetta | Year Posted 2017
They were Meriwether Lewis and William Clark,
Her name was Sacagawea.
On an expedition they did embark
Finding the passage to the sea.
Down the Missouri they traveled,
Then slithered 'round the Snake River bend.
Rocky Mountain weather and sickness battled;
At the Columbia River they'd end.
©2013 Honestly JT
Copyright © Honestly J.T. | Year Posted 2013
We follow the river
Along the Taff Trail ****
Where will it lead me
Somewhere beautiful without fail
We pass Llandaff Cathedral
With Epstein,s statue's within
Cant say that I like it
But thats not a sin
We keep walking for miles
My dog Tilly and me
Soon will be at a castle
Used in films u see
The name of the castle
Is Castell Coch
Whose translation reads
Red Castle of course
It called locally as
The magic castle
Looks so mysterious
As though ready for battle
The rooms arent big at all
Carved small animals adorn the wall
Been sanctioned for weddings
Though numbers must be small
Time to turn back
Along the manmade track
To the mighty rugby ground
Where voices echo
Hymns are sung
The 6 nations contest*
Come on Wales The reigning grand slam **and triple crown ***champions
*wales, ireland, scotland, england, italy and france, battle it out annually against each other in Rugby Union.
**Grand slam is where you beat all the other teams
***Triple crown is where you have to beat the other 3 uk teams.
**** the river running through Cardiff is the River Taff, that is why we in Wales are called Taffy's
Taff Trail is 50 miles of track between Cardiff and Brecon through countryside and over mountains.
PLEASE GOOGLE. Castell Coch hopefully you will be impressed.
Copyright © Seren Roberts | Year Posted 2013
A staff is more than handhold, its worn
to the grasp, trust in what fell down from above.
The llama's sure foothold fits like our staffs
in the rocks climbing upward to the top to the sky.
We risk the blaze of sun, for the wide wings of condor
soaring, spiraling, hunting for a meal, never assured
except for his hold on the sky, flight, supreme
over the rocks and tumbles and worn out straw
of season of cold passing into days of warmth.
The spindle clatter, the roil and curve of weft needle
a prayer to on high, like the spirals of rock to the sky
the sun speaking to us at feet, these are complete
to the rest and remain of our escape to safety
in the cradle of our summer retreat, waiting for stars
to fall among us, waiting for stars to carry us away
from homes built within a circle of spires, three spires
to bring the ley lines of power into our grasp, to offer
escape from the dust and dung we live in, amazed.
Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper | Year Posted 2013
What could I really know of the breaks
in the land
huge canyons bleeding red cut by the wind
with the snow swirling around our tires
and fallen to a tumble like icebergs
windshield riming over with a crust of ice
we scrape madly inside
trying to keep cold out
slowing to a crawl
always on the lookout
outside line appearing and gone,
no worries about
cattle led inside to safety to be watered and fed
but what of us?
Will we be trapped clutching a candle
wanting a chocolate bar,
waiting for a tractor?
and all the flat seeming land seems to have ditches
and roof pitches and rushing trees, and a swirl
of slumbering snow
to lumber down in drifts and piles
no fire would ever warm us
until finally we see it shining in the dark
a lantern at a farm
a fleet of snow mobiles to greet us
scurry is off
before our ears turn blue,
would they fall off?
Luckily, not tonight, not in this blizzard,
we have home.
Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper | Year Posted 2013
Preferred by those that know of nothing fair.
Destroyed by sand that blows through consciousness.
Existing in a vacuum of despair.
I left that world behind I must confess.
The wheels of hope extinguished memories.
With every mile clouds would drift away.
Until the devil's valley and disease.
Were lost in natures brilliant grand foyer.
Rejoice, the mountains, rivers of my home.
Forsaken once so young and long ago.
The years have swallowed up the urge to roam.
And age has brought the need to take it slow.
Thoughts now have left me of that evil land.
Here God and nature hold me in their hand.
Copyright © Robert Nehls | Year Posted 2014
Let me take a journey into the unknown
A journey that might change what I thought I had known
A journey into the self
A journey into me
The id, the ego
Who am I?
Would I still be me if I stopped doing what I do?
(Would I still be me) if I changed my face?
(Would I still be me) if I changed my living space?
What is life?
Is it the breath, the body, the spirit or the soul?
Does it have anything to do with style?
Am I alive when I sleep?
How is life affected when I weep?
What is love?
What is love
Is it the friendship, affection or adoration?
How do I know when I am loved?
What signs are there when I give it?
Does my family always love me?
Do they love me when they are angry?
Do they love it when I am mad or sad and feeling bad?
Do they love me when I don’t love them back?
Someone tell me what is love?
Now let’s talk about death
Is death always cruel?
Or is it sometimes a favour?
I wonder why people cry
How else can you meet your saviour?
My soul is troubled
My heart unsettled
I am afraid, so very afraid
Why were we created if our inevitable destiny is death?
Who has the map to paradise?
Who knows about eternity?
I need answers about morality
Somebody talk to me about equality
Tell me about justice and truth
Do these things really exist?
Some things you will never understand
Where is the fairness when someone puts the letter l in lambdacisms and the letter s in lisp.
Copyright © John Pen | Year Posted 2014
Beauty of nature
Why condense it down to God?
Isn’t life enough?
Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013