There once was a man from Niagara
whose wiener's so long it would stab ya'
but when it got little
his pills became skittles
until he O.D.'d on Viagra
© ~JSLambert 2011*****A classic "stiff" competitor, standing "firm" amongst other "members" in the "thick" of the competition:) hope everyone gets "a rise" out of it!
Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2011
Obsessed with the thought of you
wondering if it's only me or
if you sometimes remember the sweet things you've said
and if you meant them how I took them
or if I'm just obsessed with what's in your head
Obsessed with your very sentences
Every response I take personal
I know it's selfishness
Have you not noticed my eyes?
They hold secrets that only you can unlock
if you'd just take time to fill the thick juices of my pride
It's just boiling with lust, passion, trust and distrust
and other things I obsess over so much
I find myself writing to free myself from this prison I've created
where only you and I reside
I become confused about what I'm really feeling inside and I
try to rid the thoughts that are highly debated as false and I
begin to cry and
think of casting love spells so that the universe can deliver this affair
I know it's unfair
but I don't care
I'm obsessed with what hasn't happened between us
I'm obsessed with your heart and that the fact that
I don't think you've even noticed my selfish innuendos
and secret undertones that blatantly express my lust
Or maybe you have and you calmly remain in resistance of distrust
If you could only read my mind by simply touching my fingertips,
I'm sure I'd catch you out the corner of my eye biting your bottom lip
I'm obsessed with the passion and thoughts I think you have
Obsessing over an experience that I may never have....
Copyright © humble b | Year Posted 2012
It jumps not to the thought of riches or the prospect of gold
For common treasures are not what it seeks
But rather it responds to that probable possibility
That it may have touched the depths of someone else's soul
It hearkens not to sparkling gems or lusts after a lifetime of wealth
For inside jewels lies the hearts of thieves
But rather it stirs at giving a word someone needs
For inspiration to even the smallest person is a diamond in itself
It doesn't ache for dollar bills or lurch at the sight of green
For nowadays money comes in many different forms
But rather it longs to patch up another heart that may have been torn
And once again to give that person's life meaning
It is a place where the world dare not or otherwise cannot go
A safe haven for valuables other than currency
A hidden trail where treasure means finding creativity
A path that only the hearts of poets know
Copyright © Lakisha Williams | Year Posted 2008
A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013
It is 2012 within the season of autumn in that year.
Humankind knows not whether to be sad or cheer.
A new sphere arrived; they call it planet kunzite.
In an orbit opposite of earth, aligned perfectly right.
Was it our doom, or salvation we awaited a sign.
Upon the next moon, our answer came so divine.
Planet kunzite was to be our new home to live.
To go in peace and harmony with only love to give,
No more wars or anger for any human to spread,
In the stars surrounding, words are there to be read.
Kunzite a jewel for everyone, especially new born,
So upon each morning a new greeting shall adorn.
Copyright © cecil hickman | Year Posted 2010
Together the Owl and the PusyCat were married
Then again sailed out over the deep blue seas
Searching forever for the great Land of Nod,
To the place where they could find true peace.
True peace, true peace… Where they could find true peace.
The love that twined forever within their hearts
They sought throughout all the wonderous lands
Going to the place where they would live in peace,
A place where true peace, rules and lives in the hearts of the land.
The land, the land… Where true peace lives in the heart of the land.
Alas, the love of the heart, though truly not easy to find…
Is easier to find than the love of peace, found throughout the land.
So it’s said they will continue to sail, until that day comes true,
And when they land for the final time, will be up to me and you.
Me and you, me and you… That day will be up to me and you.
Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2012
Extraordinary, I am
Craving for unusual thoughts
Endless exploration without boundary
Understanding the gift I shouldn't fought
Invisible drawings in my mind
Playing with the words in my head
The food of my soul
I feel so lucky
The random thoughts
A lifetime companion
A self esteem builder
A goal planner
Be my forever life saver
I write more
I talk less
I want to please
I chose to bore
What tickles me the most
Is to know what I'm for
Thinking is my love
When my mind goes empty
That's when I hate
My day dreaming lust
Organizing things in my mind
Playing roles of simulation
Where images of art is my vision
And words of attitude is my heart
Copyright © Katrina Salem | Year Posted 2012
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
The ladder backed pecker,
like a prison uniform.
Caught-up in exposing
the truth beneath the bark,
of the poet's apple tree.
We prefer ourself in spring;
with tiny little flowers,
and the fruit of possibility.
Yet, if not for the woodpecker,
tapping holes into poems,
we might not ever see
the flesh and blood of raw meat.
I will climb that ladder back,
escape pre-decreed standards.
Tap into that syrupy mixture
and suck-out truth from hard wood.
Yes, lessons from a jail bird.
A pest in the Avian Kingdom.
Wisdom from the little rebel,
beat-out of a tree.
Copyright © Dean Walker | Year Posted 2006
there across the wind
rides my silly pride
at times a sturdy arrow
at times a butterfly
how often i chose to follow
the path of the sturdy arrow
its landing was hard to find
however, when i chose to try
the path of the butterfly
never, was i too far behind
Copyright © Gerry Mattia | Year Posted 2009
Hip-Hop is dead
I can’t feel the throb, the devotion, the dedication
I wear all black
Black stilettos, black cut dress, aimed real low
Seductive but simple, I know my place
Beside the King, my sweet deceased Revolutionist
Rap’s number one supporter, holding the casket with a broken
S I G H
Someone plays, a radio, across the way
Slick beats drip past the ears to slime the brain
Wet and easy manipulated clay
Media displays wealth and misogyny
50 million dollar chains
Females addicted to being slapped around
Like China Dolls in half-made Cl o thes
Pose, Shawty and let this crunk beat fill your hips
Purse your lips, Mami, and I’ll let you
Be my accessory
Remember when the revolution was a evolution of the mind
Freestyles match drums in intensity
When freestyles were uncontrolled like the wild brown skin he was in
I felt, loved, Hip-hop in my veins
Let him be the catalyst for the beating of my heart
I was so in love with his swagger, his love of himself and his people
Hat tipped real low to hide the pain
Beat real tight to stop the taint
Of failure and to rise like the dust after a stampede
I’d take Hip-Hop to bed every night
Let him rise and fall like the heaving of my chest
It was so hot I could barely breathe for the intensity overcoming me
The pounding of intellect in my throat
Stroked me from head to toe
And Rocked my ghetto loving soul
And he said things I’ve waited my whole life to hear
play sweetly in my ear
Dreaming of dreams too big
To let fade away
He grew shallow, loving women with hollow heads and thick thighs
Low rides and forgetting what he left at home
Long nights and overtime left me alone
Released hundreds of artists
Torn between money and the spoken word
His best friends tried to revive what was inside, too late the damage took over
50 Cent arrived with Lil’s, and Young’s and a mess of southern heat
I was there when the light left his eyes
After Dr.Dre’s Chronic
Hip-Hop was Dead
Copyright © Bella Cardenas | Year Posted 2007
I Was Heartily Welcomed… As I Sat At Your Table
By: Carol, Sara, Carolyn, Dane Anne, Moses, and Abel
Tim, Leon, John, Michael, Jim and Yoni
Deborah, Krista, Adeleke and Charlie
… James, The (Two) Ruben(s) and (The Quik-Composer) Raul
… and Many, Many More, I Love to Hear At Dinner-Call !
The PoetrySoup …
… It Has Member – Mushrooms
Chew and Chat Lunchrooms
Delectable Hors d'oeuvre
Every Ear-Full… Heard
Every Mouthful… Taste
Spoonful of Gourmet Grace
Voila’ Words, Don’t Waste
Simmer-Slow and Baste’
In Dug-up, Sweet Potatoes
Ripe Food for Thought Tomatoes
And Onions, That Will Make You Cry
Artichokes and Lemons that Squeeze – ‘til You Die
Garlic and Oregano Are Just Some Suggestions
And Here’s Some Mint… for Your Digestion
Parsley to Parley and Jive-Chives, Just Keep Stirring
But There’s No Clam Chowder, Shrimp, or Herring
A Dash of This… A Dash of That Seasoning
A Pinch of That and Sprinkle This Reasoning…
On The Side with the Mustard and Relish, so Fresh
Are the Cucumber-Contest and Radish Requests
And I Can’t Forgo the Tongue-in-Cheek Puns…
Your Laughter is Passed Around, like Hot-Buttered Buns !
… Poets … Are Proverbial Peas In The Pod
The Harvesters of Herbs-Heard, in The Garden of God
so... Salt and Pepper to Your Superb Style
Did You Say Cheese, Please ?... ( Full Mouth Smile !)
There’s Hot Chicken Broth, When You Are Cold
Everybody Knows… Its Good For The Soul
And All That’s On The Human Menu… It’s In There !
… Even A Mother’s … Tenderized Care
Like Campbell’s Brand… Its Umm… Umm… Good !
The Aspire – Asparagus, I Took… I Understood
So, PoetrySoup’s Cupboard is Never Bare
And There Ain’t No Bones, No Medium, Just Rare
And On The Star-Burner… Is The Savory Meat
So… Grab A Heartbeat-Bowl… and Bona Petit’…
Yes, Thank You, PoetrySoup
(You’re Up There with MoonBee’s FruitLoops !)
It Has Been A Pleasure Getting To Know You All
Thru Your Beautiful Expressions, Coming Straight
From Your Warm and Welcoming Hearts
God Bless You......
Copyright © MoonBee Canady | Year Posted 2009
Car wash running hot
Backed up around the next block
Car in front just clunked
Copyright © Joseph Spence Sr | Year Posted 2006
We touched for a moment
From across the room
As only eyes allow
Standing in yen
And somehow fearful
I turn away
If I held valiance
Crass and fiery
I would dare to you
Though not today
I am of frailty’s ire
Flames of forbidden desire
That is you
A rare beauty of youth
I am lost and aged tonight
Afraid to look in your eyes
Fearing the burn
Of desire fulfilled
Heavy heaves in my chest
In a sigh of defeat
Up the empty pathway
I move on
Copyright © Charles Fuller | Year Posted 2007
He was the bard from Stratford, and as a teenager
he helped his father in his trade; he married and had children
and became the most popular and admired play writer
in all England...acting was also his other pleasurable passion.
Curious Queen Elisabeth was one of the thousand spectators,
who came to see him in the Globe theater...she shed tears,
and was stunned by the performance of his timeless plays,
and yet, some of his fellow-poets criticized him for his writings!
I wish I had lived in that Victorian era so intellectual and refined,
and had met him in person and had showed him my ample admiration;
I would have asked him the secret, which made him so legendary and loved...
and he would have whispered it to me, to make me revel in that revelation!
I have read his inspiring works, and tragedies rampantly occur
from " Romeo and Juliet"...the Verona's immortal lovers, through" Hamlet "
whose insanity was undoubtedly caused by the specter of his father;
and why didn't Shakespeare choose less dramatic plays not ending in death?
He wanted to teach us indelible lessons to show us how the human spirit
can be passionate, adamant, loveless, envious, cruel, unfair and treacherous...
to outline all kinds of guilt: from murder to envy so well-expressed with eloquence;
it's no mystery to anyone how he conjured up such plots with grief, madness and wit!
Shakespeare was no ordinary kid, and he played with his siblings on Henley Street,
neighbors saw him trot to his grammar school, later he would make everyone weep;
early in adolescence, did his prodigious mind envision one from a vague thought?
It's no wonder that he is widely read even today...hear his speak, he'll impart worth!
Entered in Amy Green's contest, " Wow Me With Inspiration "
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2010
I drank of your beauty
Sweet and velvety smooth
Your substance makes me tingle inside
Down to my very finger tips
You sparkle in the light
I caress, and you bubble in delight
You make me carefree
Down to the depth of my soul
Appearing red , full of passion
Or pale, as cool as a crystal stream
You make me happy
As I delve into your sweetness
You come to me each evening
To warm my heart
And together we will dine
With you, my fine bottle of wine.
Copyright © Phyllis Babcock | Year Posted 2008
Obviously, I am kissed
Once more by destiny
When clock touching
The summer moonlight night
And, flatten the thought
By the buzzing bug
With a fiery lips, awaking
My lonesome blood
Into whacking as I fell
Into her breath
With its natural scent
Like Venus, the god
Wrapped my lonely body
By sweet loving hand
That I felt like
To be licked
By you, again and again
Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2007
I do not know?
Eye to eye,
Tears sweat from it's cheek.
Little bit of a shake in the bodily wise.
"You can't do this to me! Speak in that tone of voice!"
"Look around. They'll think you're insane!"
"Get back in line!"
Cirlcing my lens sight about,
Seeing the expression of anguish hysteria in the norm,
The air is now poisoned with agony emotions.
Who can escape?
High noon like never seen before.
"Don't come any closer!"
"Do you know who I am? 21 St. Century."
"You live in me."
"Play by the rules, be quiet, and take it like a man!"
Smiling infinity within me.
"No! Do not walk away like that!"
"You need me!"
Turn with final words of free,
"Who needs who?"
"Time. A lonely place without man. Better thank the One who keeps you in His
"As for me. Better things to do. Live on Earth in her humbleness."
"By the way, shut off the light before you leave. Too late! The roundabout living are
your witnesses that it was done long ago."
(Thank you Jill Martin for your comments on "Blank Screen". Your comments
fired me up to write this one.)
Copyright © Mark Hansen | Year Posted 2006
I do not know?
Walking the streets with the thousands daily,
In the mist is me-
Would the inner world of mine,
Illuminate the poetry,
Or first gaze,
Outer appearance reflect average in thee eyes?
Copyright © Mark Hansen | Year Posted 2006
Globally, miners jubilantly jump for joy
Smiles on the faces of every girl and boy
The grins of a newly opened Xmas toy
Trade unionists bounce along the street
Music blaring and the tapping of feet
From nurses to Bobbies still on the beat
Street parties announced in the nation
Satan who brought economic inflation
Is deceased, now’s the time for elation
Its times like this I’m sad I’m an atheist
And can only shout and wave my fist
And then go to the pub and get pissed
Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013
Right now it’s only cough and cold
But you won’t survive until you’re old
Your friends and family will stay away
No matter how much you plead or pray
You’ll lose your weight and faint at times
You’ll prefer dying than being alive
No one to take care of you at night
You’ll be untouchable, yeah that’s right
It doesn’t matter how I infected you
All they’ll think all you do is screw
Your life will be like a living hell
You’ll be alone and lonely, can’t you tell?
You’ll regret that day I entered you
The days you have are very few
Within no time you’ll beg to die
But I’ll kill you slowly while you cry
Right now it’s only cough and cold
But I am gonna get you trolled
My friends and family will stay with me
They love me so much, can’t you see?
Skinnier I’ll be, unhealthy I’ll be
It’s not ‘you’ and ‘I’, with us it’s a ‘we’
They’ll stand by me, take care of me
They’ll take me home, I’ll be free
But today they asked me the reason
Was it some blood transfusion?
Yes it was, I wanted to say
But I realized my life had started to sway
They’re going away, the ones I loved
Was it really necessary for me to be shoved?
I trusted them to stay with me
But now I’m begging you to let me die…
Copyright © apoorva patrikar | Year Posted 2012
generic minds listen to generic music
have generic thoughts that are unknowingly abusive
watch generic things talk about generic things
gee this generic *****is spreading like a disease
better get your flu shot
thats what they said to me
a suicidal vaccine
a subliminal killing spree
its contagious and the outrageous
thing about it is that the people are blind in an eye
that they didn't even know they had
it's sickening to watch these clueless civilians
inside the looking glass
with nightmares of being free
without a key to their mind
for it is trapped in the frequency
in the illusion of time
bathed in our universe
killing all that refuse to see
those that admit to hypocracy
or see the message in hip hop
how cant you see
the message in the lyrics that
bring adolescents to their knees
from bullet wounds conflicting their flesh
contradicting that they're the best
but the songs keep telling them that they dont need no rest
that they dont wanna go home
that they should ride alone
with the gat as their only companion
and so the only path they choose is the one that they're told
until they grow old and hope turns to a window pane
inside a window pane, until all they feel is pain
they realize that the music itself is ashamed
so whats to look up to
when you cant even speak when you cant even walk because you look so bleak
your eyes are sunken from the tv you're infested with the dee zees
now its too late to turn around and live for your conscious
so when youre screaming oh please
close your eyes and bring your mind to life
open your eyes for the first time
and never wonder why
since the answer this entire time
has been inside
and you better find it before you die
you dont want your soul to be in a pool with all the others
a buncha brothers missing their mothers
but only seeing strangers
only feeling the haters
wishing they would have used their minds when they had them
and now its too late,
now it's time for another new born fate to grab them
Copyright © Green Trees | Year Posted 2012
What reminds me always of my own identity
being born in the Philippines, a poor nation;
faith and history that nurture my thinking,
their colossal meaning shows how I am doing.
Perhaps an upbringing in my own family culture
can add a vital implication in my behavior
yes, it’s pretty evident as I keep going
with my own certainty in language articulation.
Our constant struggles, miseries and beliefs
provide a perspective that comes with faith;
it’s a way to get plunged into the mainstream
that life in the Philippines has shaped my whole being.
Major hurdles as reflected in various situations,
the core truth of being subject to wrestle with life,
along with the fullness of time and the so-called ‘leb’
a challenge, indeed; the incarnation of my interior sense.
It is an awareness that poverty in most parts of the country
makes me realize that something has to be done so far,
it’s a person’s longing to achieve that goal of going elsewhere
like in the States, UK, Australia, Hong Kong or Malaysia.
That quest for greener pastures and other human aspirations
employment takes the centerpiece as a redeeming treasure;
like a “chiaroscuro” in the haven of human acquisition
where hope begets hope and where faith begets faith.
Well, seeing the reality of my own people’s struggles
I cannot help but be responsive to what they long for;;
a call from within drawn across the cry of the poor,
my own people, my sibling souls in the right direction.
I’ve developed that attitude of love and compassion
especially to those who’re eclipsed by epic proportion
in their search for peace, justice and Christian thought
with their roots plunged into the depth where we are.
Copyright © mark escobar | 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
***NOTE~TO BE READ WITH A RIDICULOUS "SILKY SOUTHERN DRAWL" (have fun:)***
"Storm over yet...?"
"Well hay'ell ye'ah!
sum'body git me a da'gumm cole beer.
whadda'bou that boy th'er?
sum'body git him'a cole beer too!"
"Diddy! that boy ain't nothin' but 8 years old!"
na'I don't give a jolly'durn, if he ain't nuttin but 8 year'owed!
'dat boy dun' sat him thr'ew a big ol', storm!
torna'durr warnin' too!
he gonna have him'a cole burr;
mama, git him'a cole burr!
ta'days father's day!"
© 2011 ~JSLambert Esquire
Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2011
Look in to the sky above
When the night is clear
You will see something special
That is flying in the air
It looks like a space ship
Or could it truly be
An alien from outer space
That wants to come meet me
When I was a little girl
It did happen to me
An alien landed on my roof
So I went up to see
He talked a funny language
And looked a bit silly too
But I could tell he was a friend
And a friend good and true
He took me into outer space
So we could see a star
It was his home planet
We had flown quite far
There we could fly
And I had magic powers
I flew around the countryside
And played there for hours
Then it was time to go
Although this place was great
My mum and dad would worry
As it was getting late
He flew me to my bedroom
And said a long goodbye
I promised I would not be sad
But couldn’t help but cry
He said you can always see me
Just look into the sky
So this is not forever
So please don’t say goodbye
Its then that I awoke
Had it been a dream?
Was everything all imagined?
And not what I had seen?
And then I looked into the sky
And saw a streak of light
And a space ship in the distance
Fly off into the night
And behind a dim smoke trail
I could just make out what it had to say
“Don’t miss me just look up in the sky
I’m never far away”
Copyright © Nadine Hof | Year Posted 2007
Only light can penetrate the
that resides in the default state
I descend from beta to delta
binaural beats; instantly caught
between frequencies beyond
I absorb amplitudes of acoustic
and I learn to just be earth
Since I am the earth
and because I am of
the one that is the source of its
I've owned the power of
I realize now that I AM because
HE is since I am from that, a
Created in the image of a
and a feeling from the
I tune in to this vibration from
pulse that manipulates
Immersed between 4 and 7
brainwaves halt to a conscious
All chakras are aligned shining
and now my consciousness
begins to reap!
and light begins to penetrate
the harmonious beams
that were already there
constant and always there
is now flooded with sound
that force brainwaves to submit
of omnipresent sound that
and always will be connected to
the Source from which I came
so I extend exponentially
physical time and space
I long to embrace the intensity
of gamma rays
I give way to the coded sounds
that resonate from the inner
and continue to connect
through the binaural beats that
remind me of before
Always familiar but ignored
until found by gaining
knowledge of self
I listen with the intent to excel
while reaping an abundance of
benefits and rewards
It's already yours
Just reach out and grab it
as long as intention and ego is
the universe will correspond
it will deliver a life to you divine
Just listen to the sounds that
were there from before
They will guide to to the
vibration from the core
and it will guide you to connect
directly with the source
Copyright © humble b | Year Posted 2012
Tic, tac, I’m waiting to hear
Ti, ta, my hands shake with the beat
A relapse of this self-produced Parkinson.
------I finally hear something beautiful
My toes curl up and down and dance to the music.
I float away and see my shoes from above
My hair dances to the beat and the room grows smaller
As I fly away into space
I see the same things over and over and over and over
Little, burning, british styled cottages
What is it I’m waiting to see?
I dive into a cloud in search of what I know I will not find
My back aches as I reach for that I don’t know what;
I think I’m getting closer.
Over over here the air seems to be sweater
That, I think, is a sign I’m near.
It’s grimy, I’m flying on my tiptoes now. Tiptoes.
A ghost of sugar approaches me, with the sun as a head
I follow its finger and its mysterious direction and swim away
There! I’ve seen it! My heart takes the melody over
It is me who commands the tune! Pom-pom, pom-pom…..
As I grasp it I wait and wait and linger and remain
For the explosion.
I don’t know what to expect, its wrapping so beautiful!
From here, I Jazz my way down and fall back into this painful black shoes
But all is better now;
I Samba the day with a smile smudged on my features
I know there is Salsa in this world!
Then I walk down the street, moving my body
The Polkaing fingers won’t stop
They’ve been accelerated:
Tra la la la.
Copyright © Pamela Calero | Year Posted 2007
While looking at the vast blue sky,
I can imagine myself
Sitting against a tree,
Watching the sea
And hearing the sound of the waves.
It still questions my mind...
Why am I here all alone?
Why can't I enjoy the beautiful scenery
in front of me?
I feel incomplete from deep within
I don't know why I feel this kind of thing
But the incompleteness of myself bothers my mind.
And in the end..
I still question myself...
Copyright © zsarrr inna | Year Posted 2014
Thought, said, sung, written
Words bred civilization.
Words made us human.
Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014