The Wakening World
A new world spins kaleidoscopic, a whorl of color in revolt.
Oceans quake, molding into fissures of tectonic hunger,
ravaging the deep, stirring the primal need depressing
populations unseen to the denizens of land, left in man’s wake.
From diatom, to whale, from single cell, to open hand
from sun, to star, to mushroom bomb, we have light.
Within the orb of eye, retinal flares of light
an inside-out, upside-down, yin and yang revolution;
juxtaposing wealth with poverty, throngs rise asking for hand-
outs, aching with a human need to know, hungering.
Childhood ends as the predestined ouroboros wakes.
Death’s rattle subsides, as head eats the tail of depression.
Communication becomes the global antidepressant.
Aborigines in Australian huts and Inuit in igloos see the light.
There will be no holding back the tide, for hand in hand, cells wake.
No longer can knowledge be held. “Phone home,” a revolutionary
cry, the breast will not be ripped from the lips of hungering
humanity, tyrant and saint will be juxtaposed, their time at hand.
Instant contact scrapes the barnacles of blight handily.
The stroke of fingertip to keyboard or keypad depressed
sends ignorance fleeing, freeing the knowledge hungry;
showing the way out, the way up, the key. Light-heartedly
heads bow in prayer, the we will rock you will revolt.
Let tyranny be eaten, and righteousness wake.
On the egg of earth, we float in celestial wakes.
Solar tides stir the shards of glass raising death’s hand.
Round and round the top spins each revolution
forced by the pumping thump of nuclear rods depressed,
rods magnetized or charged with lightening
will energize the populous for we all hunger.
Evolution brings revolution, each thirst quenched brings new hunger.
Repression will never depress the desire to wake,
nor, will the fisted hand ever bring the light.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2011
A light bulb screwed in, then turn on switch witch.
We all can learn from experience.
But you can also experience what you learn.
Time and again learning something the wrong way has caused disaster.
Wiring an engine the wrong way will keep it from running.
Just as loving the wrong person can cause heartbreak.
The night you saw her with another man was heartbreak.
You wanted to yell at her and call her a witch.
Then after all the hassle you were tired from running.
You felt like you had learned from this experience.
Another relationship, another disaster.
Going through all of this, what did you learn?
Thinking on all relationships, what could you learn?
For one thing, try not to ever experience heartbreak.
If you do then there could be disaster.
And could bring lots of pain from some lovely witch.
And believe me, this you don't want to experience.
You will just find more witches and keep on running.
When you leave a witch keep on running.
And never slow down son, this lesson learn.
Because between the two of you, she has more experience.
And can cause you much more pain and heartbreak.
After all, she has the powers of a lovely witch.
And if she uses them, beware of disaster.
Remember multiples can be disaster.
They will keep you tired and running.
Especially when there's more than one witch.
And oh how she wants to use you, so learn!
This can leave you lonely and with heartbreak.
Only she can benefit from this experience.
So, let me tell you about my experience.
In my life, more than once, there was total disaster.
There was pain, sorrow, and yes, heartbreak.
Women kept me on the ball and running.
Do you think that I heeded advise and would learn?
Absolutely not! What fun is that when you play with a witch?
Experience may keep you from running.
Disaster could help you to learn.
HEARTBREAK IS DEFINITELY...having more than one lovely witch!!!!!
Copyright © Marty Owens | Year Posted 2010
Education has never deluded me,
it is a rich mine from which my gemstones are extracted;
and all of them can adorn with its brilliance
a king's crown, but the glitter on my silver pendant...
with my natal sign, not with my image, outshines it
and displays it very elegantly.
As skilled hands relied on mental deftness,
I depended on mom's provincial practicality,
not on chances, but on her canonical guidance;
her words told no canards, only truthfulness:
an illunination of beatitude to encourage and fortify...
and that voice taught me acts of benevolence.
Guessing what was the mysterious name it bore,
would have been quite easy to identify with sharp eyes:
examining the deeds I did and the actions I still compromise,
to conclude with certainty
that it fitted me so perfectly...
I learned that art by listening to clever people with more ardor.
This is not a gift which is instilled
in the infant's brain at birth,
it is acquired by growing somewhat old...
who could have such a prodigious knowledge?
The Old Testament prophets for instance, or possibly
every learned man who studied philosophy.
Spend time with me, and observe how I peruse:
listen to the clear and incisive words spoken aloud,
riddling no mystery, or being derogatory...
proverbs might be included to give some clues;
and they were written in an inimitable way
to stimulate the minds of the unlearned.
Is intelligence inborn or learned by chance,
or even isometric to astuteness?
Many admit it stems from accruing knowledge,
to increase the capacity of the thinker or genius...
accumulating their ideas and earning praises,
while the uneducated struggle with rage.
Logical astutness is efficacious when it invigorates ability,
and exhorts a great deal of mental energy;
and will the proper words be used to that effect?
Happy New Year to all the wonderful Poetry Soup members!
Copyright 210 by Andrew Crisci
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2010