In the middle of my plain white wall
There is a plain white window
And next to my plain white window
Is where I sit in a plain white dress
On a plain white chair
And every morning the sun rises
And every evening the sun sets
I see them all from my window
They are very pretty
With many colors
And then one day
A man stops by my window
He calls to me as I sit
In my plain white dress
On my plain white chair
He calls to me to tell me of the world
That I may come and join him
But I have seen the troubles of the world
All beyond my window
And I say to him I'd rather stay
And sit here by my window
Where troubles cannot reach me
He smiles a sweet sad smile as he walks away
Though the next day he is back again
And he talks to me of grass
Of green lush grass that is soft enough to walk on barefoot
I tell him of the glass that is hidden among the blades
He just smiles a sweet sad smile as he walks away
And back again he comes
To tell me of the ocean and sandy beaches
With white sand so pure you can lay naked upon it
I shake my head and tell of the pirates
That come to kidnap young and pretty girls
He smiles his sweet sad smile as he walks away
The next day he walks softly to my window
And he tells me of a garden untouched by men
Where flowers are the size of children
And blooms reach to the heavens
He tells me of the grass that hides no glass
Of a sky that is of the brightest blue
And a stream that is so pure you can
Be unwary of drinking from it
He talks of fish and birds of indescribable beauty
All this he tells me is mine
I must only leave my window and I may see it
I shake my head sadly as I tell him
I am afraid the world holds too much danger
For even if there were such a place
What misfortunes may befall me
On my way to this so called garden
He smiles a very sad smile and as he walks away
He says that paradise belongs to those who
Take risks and battle hardships to reach it
These are the words I remember as I watch the sun set
And the next day when he comes
To my plain white window
He will see me missing in my plain white dress
On an empty plain white chair
For I have gone to walk on glass and battle pirates
On my way to paradises garden
Copyright © Jennifer Abrams | Year Posted 2012
When the sun sets, The stars shine with no regrets. Darkness fills the air, The moon gives light with every care. The darkness is easier to walk through, Every light shining is so pure and true. Guidence forever are the stars in the sky, With them we find our places lifted so high. Forever is the moon to cast light upon us all, We become encouraged to stand firm and tall. The stars shine with no regrets, When the sun sets.
When the sun sets, Shining its powerful light it never forgets. Though light fades to darkness, It comes about with alertness. Shadows before the eye can see, The little shining light is enough to set us free. Sometimes we are afraid to walk alone in the dark, From which we were given a caustic remark. Guidance Forever is the changing of dark and light, It helps us to be strong and make one last fight. Forever are the shadows lurking at every turning point, If we give in it is ourselves we disappoint. Shining its powerful light it never forgets, When the sun sets.
When the sun sets, The sky is filled with wonderful colors that the ocean reflects. All the animals of the sea, Come forth creating a musical harmony. The waves crash upon the shore, Washing up new sand to the ocean floor. Its a beautiful site to see, The ocean sounds are calmingly free. Who's to say the ocean isn't peaceful get away, Its a calming place to relax and stay. The sky is filled with wonderful colors that the ocean reflects, When the sun sets.
Copyright © Tyler Knapp | Year Posted 2012
Some write to write, others to please their own romance and love
I write to enchant thy heart, and thy imagination, thy vision
To tell yee the truth I write to please my desire, to fulfill a personal mission
For I am to touch the souls of men into the right path with God our lord from above
When yee find thyself in the open pause thy heart and look at your surroundings
Pay audience to nature herself, for she comes alive but by His breath of life that creates
Open thy ear, feel the peace that flows in the open air, hear yee not the wind it sings!
Whom but all poets shall come to open eyes, for their gift is to see and write to appreciate
Walk in thy own path, make thy own life come to life
Thank Him everyday for thy joy, for thy own peace
For sooner than the sun sets for eternity will His return be, and all time will cease
Drink thy wine, live life with joy, and be true to thy wife
For it is promised that yee shall receive no more than thee can bare
As He knows of thy hearts smallest desires, and will provide, if thee seeks Him first
Jump with tears of gratitude, for He promised a Bright tomorrow
Will no one believe, as in the times of Noah? Believeth so for all must end, all sorrow
With each passing sun He nears
Yet the world stands idly by, no one even fears
The heart of the earth finds itself celebrating and ill in fake cheers
Little do they know, that He will arrive in times of sleep and with an army of spears
Hear the message for it is not I that write to thy aid, but our Lord himself for he loves us all
as all men were created equal, and some to speak to hearts
Feel the burden that dwells on my heart, and read on before thy soul departs
Rejoice in my art, as I bring about the art that comes from the heart
Copyright © Edward Orozco | Year Posted 2009
Summer scent is the smell of freedom
where we can escape the flavor of boredom
so we plan to have our vacation on the beach
where we can relax and fresh air is within our reach
The warm wind tenderly embraced my spirit
I felt excited on this first visit
on an island where refugees can find paradise
an island where spending time is wise
The dulcet breeze gently kisses lush green trees
and the mirthful sun smiles over the vast seas
Where surfers play with gigantic waves
and are not certain on what road it paves
The fluffy clouds are smoothly sailing
the birds are singing and harmoniously dancing
There are butterflies that are colorful in hue
like enchanted fairies changing colors from pink to blue
I need my sun block, it's time for swimming
the tables are full because later we're all eating
Ladies are smiling to many cool surfer dudes
Children are hungry seeing delicious exotic foods
I picked a shell that whispered peacefully in my ears
and we built castles that we fancied over the years
out of the small grains of white sands
and all you need is helping hands
God was really great in creating splendid wonders
that were loved by all especially the nature lovers
There are numerous oceans that are aquamarine
and abundant trees and grasses that are green
The brother sun was slowly hiding
because the sister moon was coming
I guess it was our time to pack
but there will come a time for us to go back
Go back to a place of leisure and freedom
where you'll not taste the flavor of boredom
It would be hard for us to say goodbye
because truly we will come back and say Hi!
Copyright © Nadine Fababier | Year Posted 2008
Like the disappearing sun of yesterday ( )
So has her childhood dissolved away ( // )
With two white steeds that are the trees ( / / )
She is the leaf, marauder of the breeze / /
She rides against the wind
/ / /
Her name is Rain
Born with the grain of knowing
Sight to the blind who cannot see tomorrow
Or view the valleys of the past
/ / Tho', ...be not envious of her rampant blood!
Where origins are buried in another world
Where voices speak in lost syllables
In a language of no forgetting
Where the laughter of the birds is still
And clouds shed only a torrent of tears
/ / /
For she would rather turn her face to the sky
/ And feel the gentleness of the mist
She has a burning desire to be free
Free of the gift
/ / Free of the burden
Free of the knowledge that has taken her innocence
// // /
A voice of the thunder calls her
Invites her to fly beyond the clouds
So the earth can be beautiful
Where the sun comes after the rain
/ Where the drought is over at last
/ Where rain becomes rainbows
She is the leaf.....maurader of the breeze
/ / Her name is Rain
For Constance La France's contest "Rain, The Story"
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2010
NOT JUST ANY SUNSET
This lunar sunset was what he’d most miss -
They always said death was like this :
Slo-mo and black-and-white
Like an old movie trite.
It had happened to him twice before : then
At rush hour on the G15 highway outside Shenzhen (1)
In his new red car when he was twenty;
And again on the pad at Dongfeng launch facility - (2)
An accidental fire in the cabin and abort
When the oxygen supply fell short.
The sun had glared at him all day from the black night
Familiar stars visible, coloured bright.
He ran through his old lectures in his head
The cool ones - yellow orange, red,
The hot ones which stare and emblazon,
As everything slips slowly down to the western horizon.
No loss of heat from sun, but shadows lengthening now,
Black, black, lengthening inky shadow.
His pen wrote fast across his paper notepad deformed
But the inky marks now in Pudonghua formed (3)
As his English slipped away.
He’d been here so long . . . . a month? A day?
Day is 15 earth days, night is 15 nights
And sunset lasts a whole earth day bright
Moon was full, his earth was darkened, like night.
A blue watery ball with edges of light:
While the earth eclipsed the sun
A red halo around his spinning home was spun.
Sun’s entry on earth’s western limb made slow
Red flares - crowns - as the solar disk slid low,
And earth’s red light bathed itself on white rocks beside,
He felt a last touch of home inside.
So unlike his own sunsets of the past
In his home in Guangzhou, seen last (4)
Over the Pearl River delta with bent light (5)
At the heavy monsoon rains’ height.
This taikonaut’s last sunset . . . . . his radio dead, (6)
His pen drops, and he slowly nods his head,
As sun’s warm arms envelope his earth fond,
And he slips his surly bonds. (7)
(1) A well-known dangerous highway in southern China
(2) Chinese equivalent to Kennedy Space Centre
(3) Pudonghua (=Chinese) is the language spoken in southern China
(4) Major mega-city in southern China, near Hong Kong
(5) Pearl River is the river on which Guangzhou stands
(6) Astronaut = cosmonaut = taikonaut
(7) This line is closely modeled on a line in “HIGH FLIGHT” by John Magee
Entered in Nancy Jones's Contest "LOSERS"
Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2011
Jet ski flies o’er ocean, tide’s fun splash
All day affair - bold sun, red nun thrash
*nun – cone-shaped buoy
Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2017
A small man with strong muscles stands on top of a training mound. He was raised a farmer's son and toiled most days from sun up to sun down in the fields of Azeroth. He was called upon to bring glory back to the land by defending the weak and saving the righteous. His family was slaughtered in the battle for West Fall and he was left for dead. His will to survive and his will to up hold honor and defend the helpless has brought him here to learn. This young man will have many perils and risk life everyday to defend his people. This is the story of the young paladin named Pid and his adventures in the land of Eastern Kingdoms and beyond.....
Copyright © Donald Williams | Year Posted 2013
No. Silly humans and maybe silly ants.
So egotistical and naive to think we are the grand creation.
We live in a world where there is hope to sell as many people on the idea that they actually have all the answers.
If they are unable to find an answer nowadays it is assumed that well,
someone must know it.
Of course, this person must be wiser if they have the answer in mind.
Who knows how much cognitive dissonance leaks out of those who assume they could know everything if they wanted to, after all, a grand creation would hold the key.
What If someone who has not been deemed successful had the answer to their question?
They are simply not seen as wiser than the one who asks,
but merely, an uneducated soul.
They want you to give into your limits.
They want them to seep through to all who accept them in order to kill learning and thrive their tools to enslave.
We must have belief of one's self over open belief itself.
To be imaginative you must let your mind conjure all the possibilities.
Considering it all, willing to learn,
and your mind becomes an open feed to the energy of the evolution of thought.
To continuously learn you must be open to everything that may hold the possibility of truth.
How do you know that ant isn't your God, spying on you from the throne?
How can you possibly think you understand the difference between the microscopic to the non-comprehensive?
We are but an organic spec to the dominance of these barriers,
though they securely hold us to these realms.
We must soar past it and realize that we are not alone.
Next time you see someone looking down on those ants with their horrifying sense of might,
remind them, someone may be looking down on us with a sure tale of remarkable power in it's true form.
We must diminish our false sense of power and give way to sincerity to one another and allow ourselves to pick at each others brains in the hopes we learn as much as we can from this life to the next test.
I like to think that you may have started as a simple drop in the ocean and then you were set free into the eye of another.
And then a plant and then you died and so on until you found yourself here today.
Finally graduated to a human.
Perhaps it was the other way around and you have to learn what it feels like to go from the top all the way to the bottom.
Again and again until you learn what you're suppose to.
And then, you will be allowed to go home.
Copyright © Drew Rutherford | Year Posted 2013
About Ants And Trees
Shadows feed trees first against the suns reflection
Long shadows cast the smallest ants against their majesty
Though diametrically opposed to such strange creatures
Shadows have no interest down below
Insects have no place to go but up
Shadows must first feed trees in shade to give relief
Leave the ants till last
Blistering relentless sun dries the leaves and roots
Saps them of their energy and life
Shadows come on stronger on larger objects
Such as mountains and taller trees
Insects such as ants are far too small
Dodging the light on forest floor
They could be overlooked by these mighty giants standing tall
Trees get their fill of sun and shade and lazy shadows
The smallest ants know not to tamper with perfection
Progress and nature have to wait
When light of day finally finds them scurrying away
Sun will find them early in the morning or late afternoon
On the horizon, that’s when we see the vast and great reflection
When even the smallest ants cast long shadows on the day
Created on 1/04/15 for – “Even The Smallest Ants Cast Long Shadows”
Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2015
The sun descends
Every single day
The reds and oranges
Blend to purple,
Exploding out of a bright
Center, circle that closes
More and more every
Until everything evaporates suddenly
Into the night.
If you're lucky,
It's just an introduction to
The glittering ceiling
Sphere of stars.
Feel free to applaud.
It drips down mountainsides
While painting the endless blue expanse
With vibrant watercolors.
I stand on a hill,
Trails loop away from me and
Splatters the sky.
I walk homeward.
A sunset is an ending
And this faithful goodbye
Is a brilliant finale that
Will always wash away
And warm showers of light.
This is a performance
And although the stage is
Never completely empty,
I don't always have to watch.
I think that sometimes it might be better
If the sun never set
And I could permanently hold
Every moment at once
In my hands and never let them
Touch the ground or
I wouldn't dare to ruin great things
But I'll be a witness to them
I'll point and shout
Look at that
This is beautiful!
I didn't create it
But I can appreciate it
And my art can be my
Smile as the sun
Stains the sky
Pink and orange.
I'll watch until it dissolves.
The sky will always move forward
From the burning scenes
And I'll race it home.
Nothing I do will make it stop but
I'll enjoy it while it still exhibits
The inspiration as fervent as a fire
I sit around with
Friends in New Mexican mountains,
Or on a dew-soaked lawn
Laughing until our faces
Are no longer visible,
Sitting on a deep black trampoline
The moment before it mirrors the night.
I'm still smiling.
Homeward is where I'll always walk;
But I can stop to watch the setting sun.
Copyright © Scot Nielson | Year Posted 2015
.One Summer Long ago
I watched idly as the wind played with white puffy clouds
The sun shining brightly against the loud blue sky
The horizon shimmered and danced
merging sea and sky into eternal romance
Islands of white ,amidst deep emerald waters ,dotted the Aegean
Stretching away into shrouds of summer haze and misty beings
Waves crashed onto golden sands of deserted beaches
Baked by the sun ,unmarked and virgin for eons
Whispering above the wind, siren songs lured weary bones to rest ,
while billowy white sails float along to the west
The great long oars sweeping along the painted faces
of warships majestically making their way among long forgotten places
Dusty footprints in the earth lead to visions of truth and purity
To tales of beasts, gods and beauty
This is the land to which I sail ,
embarked upon my epic journey of which I will regale
A young man of thirty , on a quest for adventure and tall tales
Returning to seek a necklace recounted in myths and legends
As it proclaims ,a necklace adorned thy crown o mighty queen
A pure reflection of peace and beauty ,a rare sight to be seen
Now at war they seek your pleasure
The reason behind the lust for crown and glory
And to the victor ,go the spoils
One mighty warrior took his treasure
and killed the queen as his pleasure
In drunken glory he gave the crown
to his lover to keep till he found
A reason to return for his crown
He went back to war , and died for his sins
his lover grieving went back home to her kin,
He to his lonely grave , and she accepting her fate
Tossed the necklace into the sea as her heart learned to hate
She recounted many times , written in poems
buried by sands ,lost amidst the memories of long ago
,the map and all the treasure of their war
the story of their lovers parting day
Why she tossed it so unceremoniously into the bay
Calling upon her Gods to protect and curse
her secret of jewels from her death to her rebirth
Cursed and forgotten it was said ,
The secret taken to her final bed
Generations apart, a legacy passed down in poem and song
I, the younger son, took it upon myself to undo the wrong
to recover and to keep ,the jewels hidden in the deep ,
And close the door for all time ,
this legend of diamonds ,sapphires and gold
I would not rest till I conquered my goal, my mighty quest
Copyright © jim joyce | Year Posted 2012
Water lapping at edge of the boat beneath the silence of the sky
Swaying branches of mopane trees and fish eagles cry
Wind of changing seasons and melting palates of hue
in the blood red sunset glow and murky silvery water blue
Elephants in numbers dot the shores
hippo’s and crocodiles are at the core
of many memories and visions of old
Lake Kariba, in land sea
full of tiger fish and bream
The endless blue that roles into the distance
where the sun rises and falls in panoramic vista
The skeletons of petrified monuments scattered in the sea
forests of pre historic trees swaying in the breeze
It wasn’t always peaceful, tranquil, and still
nature has no chance to relax and withdraw
Scheming and dreaming in the depths of men’s mind
Up Up Up goes the building and climbs
Man made dam, Damn big problem
How could this feet of engineering the power of ages old be so easy
to tame such a wild beast as the zambezi
POURING OUT THE CONCERT
RAMMING THE RODS OF STEEL
DRIVING THE WATER BACK INTO THE HILLS
HOWEVER, THE RIVER REFUSED TO YEILD
THE WALL BEGAN TO TIP, BUCKLE, AND KEEL
NOT ONCE, TWICE, WATER MARCHED THROUGH
LIKE A FACELESS WARRIORS, DESTROYING THE BARRIER
THE FORCE OF THE RIVER WOULD NOT BE SUBDUED
LIKE ALL NATURAL EVENTS, THE WAVES BEGAN TO SUBSIDE
THE SOLDIERS OF BLUE WITHDREW
UP WENT THE WALL, COMPLETED, IT WAS ONLY A MATTER OF TIME
Animals and people lost in the rising tide
from river, to dam, to lake to inland sea
Great and panoramic became the horizon wide
Like a whisper on the edge of wind
was a grand concert of ages gone by
Played out by wildlife, land, water, and sky
A harmonic existence of sublime serenity
Life here brings closure to one’s perspective
the sent of dust and adventure is quiet infective
The place of the skeleton trees, mountain passes, and copper sun still
where the stars in the universe, scatterings like lost thoughts, visions, and chants chill
across the forging path, that strides through this african wilderness blue
Lake Kariba, the artery of the north, run straight, run true.
Copyright © Tim Marks | Year Posted 2013
as the sun
dances cross the
sky o'er blue my tail
flapping in the wind I live
I say goodbye to the earth free
floating, breaking from my string,
dancing further than east from
west, sun from moon, ever
my colors to soar above
lands, I cannot begin
my flight too soon,
a kite is meant
to fly, said I
I. A E
H N H T R
Dedicated to all the wonderful poets on Poetry Soup. I cannot choose one. I only started my journey here not too long ago, and I have received so much amazing support. So thanks to everyone who takes the time to give a kind word. Lots of love to all. :))
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2012
the moon falls west-ward
the tule fog saunters east
summer ends early
puppy petite gold
bouncing around black dog's space
I know you’re in love
Swimming in spring fog
wind plucked guitar string in time
Tule music plays
fog braised Fillmore
ready for full moon to wane
while waiting for Jack
Dreams while Sleeping #2
when I piss in dark
All my prayers are sombreros
night of a new moon
Wake up Calls
first chirp of the morn
different from dog barking
five better than four
some full moon wheeling
search werewolves in the quag
Robin Hood’s fire
Unnecessary Student Loans
lifestyle to uphold
says I to financial aid
just give me the loan
English Dept. Building
walk paper footsteps
through hallowed hollow hallways
tuba bongo blues
like a freight train serenade
echoes in the night
New York Fall
tinged purple and red
nothing to rhyme with orange
rolling New York hills
lock jaw by myself
keep me imprisoned for hours
mumbling into phone
it's raining outside
but I'm frying potatoes
the all-night kitchen
staring at my beer
one blue bird in the rafters
too it's closing time
She has rings and bows
She has glasses full of hours
Honey from the bee
Copyright © Stephen Barry | Year Posted 2015
When wind’s silence
heralds boundless oblivion
and the trembles of cracked earth
raise the dust of tears
dried by the boundless footfalls
of sallow flesh
When a thread of gold
brings unearthly thought
and the misconception
of suns fallen
drives foolish men to their knees
in unending tremors
An army of one
frees the air from his fingertips
and stays not his opal blade
as it bites the rotted gray necks
of kings released from their wrongful bliss
by his trembling palms
An army of one
unconstrained by nature’s volume
freed by the sin of his naivety
yet, bound by earth’s oldest secret
as the scarlet sun weeps
its bloodied tears
An army of one
his cloak worn through
by the acid blood of his deception
and his bones stilled;
the branches of a dying oak
which no longer caress the wind
Copyright © Avery Swarthout | Year Posted 2015
Leaking sides of a filth I abandoned
Sheathing myself to my fortress garrisoned
Waste snaking through what's left of my good will
On and off I rode away from the wasteland off the distant hill
Encountering the ghosts of the past whispers
Devouring my thoughts my head dazed in whimper
A shield broken a sword untamed
Halos smothered and bloody fingers to blame
Hurricanes swept the grasslands clean
Storms stripping the seas of rough and lean
Waves hurrying to escape the fury of the dark night sky
To whom it may be, the ones screaming to die
Blazing fires putting ashes to the ground
The traces of disaster slaving the uncrowned
Shadows of the graves greeted the living with open arms
The cries of fear echoed the heavens with crimson scars
To whom will you run? To whom will you plead?
When the sky burns red and the kings turn to flee
To whom will it matter, whether you live to see another day
To whom will it stain, the end of a million hearts beating astray
Hail of ember melts away your eyes and ears
Your fate manifests the monster you've dreaded and feared
Glory will claw the spines of lands filled with the martyrs' blood
No escaping the howls of an outcast howling through the moonless flood
The withering final moments, savoring the jolly stride
Rode the sheathing swords that flew the banners of pride
Gliding on skulls of their fallen ones
Swore to retake the Empire of the Rising Sun
Copyright © Ziad Gadou | Year Posted 2014
Ra the Sun God
Ra Ta came to Egypt with old Thoth,
10, 000 years before the Jesus cross,
The great flood had been and gone,
Thoth, Mercury and Hermes were one.
Built the Great pyramid, they did,
Hermes the architect, stones were bid.
Perfect square of line were they,
Levitation, rocks, did float the way.
Later Ra Ta was worshipped,
as the sun god Ra,
things he bid, marvels did,
still are there, today.
Kunkel says the Pyramid is a pump,
Under a glass,
vacuum sucks up the water,
Pyramid has some secret class.
Anubis, Jackal God of death,
Gate keeper, soul to caress,
Would guide your free spirit,
To Osiris, if you were pure
evil fate, Ammit endure.
Don Johnson 28-july-11
tracie edwards Contest Name Write like an Egyptian
Copyright © DON JOHNSON | Year Posted 2011
In the middle of the universe I stand
Sun watches, winks at the eternal darkness
Ignores science and the sight of God
It burns out a little at a time to reach an expiration date
And contemplates what was
Just beyond the beyond, where nothing matters
The Bootes Constellation exists with "The Great Void"
A little to the right of this we sojourn to the nothingness
Deep space, great empty space, grand void within the void
When there, you start your journey back from perfect black
Traveling at the speed of light to find your way back home
It takes some time, 326 million light years to be exact
Starting out from any direction, to be precise
Would take millions of lifetimes to return you home
Sun watches, winks at the eternal darkness
Like a burning eye it peers out into space
Ignores science and the sight of God
It burns out a little at a time and will expire
You cannot tell it what to do
It already knows the truth
There's nothing out there
So nothing matters
In the middle of the universe I stand
Hand in hand with God
And wink at the eternal darkness
Modified on 2/04/15 for – “In The Middle Of The Universe I Stand”- Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Verlena S. Walker
Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014
In the void, sipping the zoid,
with mental properties of tripping on the spiral.
Falling down the tail of lions, awkwardly spinning.
With upside down tunnel vision leaking through.
Solidifying all matter that matters,
melting into the walls of your brain.
It tickles all the raindrops dripping in your eyes,
satisfying your desire of a synchronized pattern.
Bleeding purple from the rainbow,
and turning into swirls of diamonds.
Slipping exuberantly beside you; driving you wild.
Where the shadows stop the spirited scream.
Devour yourself into the omniscient grip.
Icy cold finger tips scratch the surface of your divinity,
bringing you closer to the God who whispered in your unborn ear,
situated in your flesh from birth to death.
It embeds itself in the pupil of your eye,
dancing with your spirit and licking your soul.
Black shapes of madness wrapped in chaos and euphoria.
Twinkling and blinking dust of a cloud.
Haze filled skies and blood filled smoke raining from the clouds.
Envisions of clowns and demons laughing at our demise.
Chilling sensations of sickening mannerisms,
mechanisms and mechanics sought out to destroy the tiny creatures.
These creatures running crazy into acceptance of demise.
Deprived of life, scared of death but giving into it's taste.
Taste buds quiver as the taste grows sweeter.
Death, oh death, tell everyone who you really are...
Too long have you been hidden in the shadows you cast,
too long have we rendered your pain.
The world grows sicker as the hairs in my head grey.
I'll never surrender as demons always circle.
Today, begins a new day of our fight.
And I have a good feeling about this day.
Onward, we have united our minds and gathered ourselves within.
Always ready for we accept our fear.
We accept our hate and everything in between.
Accept it all for what it really is.
No amount of doubts will over throw us.
Onward, to peace.
Copyright © Drew Rutherford | Year Posted 2013
With faces in the window having storms in the night
You gave me promises they gave me pain
When will we ever live to understand this game
Give me shelter from the storm within cause we may never live again
In shattered dreams brought through its timely theme
Many are still wandering alone in the darkness of night
A plate of desire poured out with a creme sauce of desolation
At the mountain top the unique summit has a keen sense of view
Through ardent Spring lingers through a papal elect few
It's sought after portal of death as glue
Shutters through the spark at morn,
Some would even bother to curse the very day they were actually born;
A sought after portal which breathed in death
Yet still marked on its blotted page very much fully intact,
Working too hard can give anyone an instant heart attack
Smoke filled rooms filled up in fetters cry of full forced desolation;
In combersome threats the chief negotiator left,
A fields of dreams coming apart at the seams
A port in storm through emmense pain where through,
Give me shelter from the storm,
Amidst total sadness with stillness we soon learn to reflect
Just as in some twilight sun that has tainted my inner vision
Perhaps its in some one track mind that was fully set on some mission
The certain timely strain on the heart can light its inner spark;
Give me shelter from the storm amidst the sequence of outer pain,
In pain to harm the weary soul in which one can helplessly lose all control
Amidst viable dreams proned in an onslaught filled preminition
The sought after portal to death,
Yet still again marked on a blotted page fully intact
In timeless combersome threats toward their negotiable left
A field of dreams coming apart at its seams
Give me shelter from the storms of life amidst its inner strife
Amidst sadness within stillness will learn to reflect;
Just as in a twilight sun that has tainted my inner vision
Perhaps its in a one track mind that's head out on a mission
That certain spark within a strain on a heart can light a timely spark
Give me shelter from its storm
Very much haunted by an eclipse of the sun
Through a quaint rehearsal in its timeless cue
In distinguishing truth dismissed from its ultimate error
Many will escape into a quadratic motif through that of choice
A world filled still fixed in telling lies within its tormented souls
Broken skulls with fragmentation of vile demise
That quick fix challenge just not to have to deal with reality.
Copyright © Mario Vitale | Year Posted 2012
She is whimsical midst-escaping
blackness & beige stagnation,
reverberant betwixt musicality &
fictitious paisley fabrications,
recognizes the actuality of her
enigmatic spirit's frivolity,
well-defined by her quirky
quintessence serving her far beyond
periods of reflective flourishes,
has never been a slave to social
expectations nor gravitas of
materialism is not her cuppa tang
nor an applicable proposition,
heartfelt inclination is e'er creation
and the freedoms it relishes,
you may catch glimpses midway
seascapes & ocean's roar or
summits of splendiferous
mountain's sumptuous loftiness,
swaggers 'bout configurations
and milky way's artsy effulgence,
plays amidst wistful forests with
nymphets and poisonous toadstools
sashays 'round wildflower meadows
blanketed yonder moon blushes,
sun-kissed & star dusted she's
collectively nightfall 'pon daylight,
envisages building soaring air castles
amidst macrocosms high-rise skies'
timelessness whence humankind
shall humbly recognize enlightened
ceremony of incommensurate
resoluteness & obsessive commitment
furthermost nature's conceptualizations
Building Castles in the Sky Contest -Steven Henderson
Copyright © Paloma P | Year Posted 2016
It's easy to become lost in the idea that only things in life change you;
rather than you are always changing in your creation.
When you look at demons in the haze, marvel at the haze.
Demons are feeling homesick.
Be true to everything you are and thrive on.
We all have demons, it's up to you on what to do with those demons.
The most dangerous are the ones unknown.
She is herself. A beautiful demon; not hidden behind a shadow.
Her magic is infested in my desire.
She is beautiful for I can unravel her thoughts.
She expresses to me the words intertwined with my ambiguity.
Riddled with love; I sleep in her soul.
She is my butterfly in our cosmic cannibalism.
Copyright © Drew Rutherford | Year Posted 2013
On a bright day
I will be
Grabbing a drink at the bar
Brighton Beach, it seems so far
Coney Island is where you'll find me
Sideshows and Hotdogs
Where I need to be.
Copyright © Jillian Sabecky | Year Posted 2015
THE SUN AND MOON DANCE V Anderson-Throop 2013, June
A sky-borne swan
on the wing
I face true North
when it is Spring
Forget sore wings
or broken heart---
I heed a call---
tears me apart
No sweeter sky
that soars the mind---
when sun and moon
Dance side by side
North Summer nights---
the white nights call---
there is no time
to fret or stall---
no excuses, no one to blame
in heading North
There is no shame.
Thru White nights dance
both sun and moon
no lover's parting
Arrives too soon
In icy Spring
Like Grandma's broom
The white night's sweep
Life into bloom
Snow-dark has fled
And time has flown
My True Love's bed.
Over these mountains
Like Grandma's broom
The white night's sweep
Life into bloom--
Thru White nights dance
both sun and moon
no lover's parting
arrives too soon.
Hang on tight--
If you dare
for it is far.
Come, Darlin' Love,
share this delight
No thrill soars past
My white North Nights
that never ends---
Copyright © Victoria Anderson-Throop | Year Posted 2013
Bob and Hannah went to fish in Wassamassaw Bay.
They told their mom they would return for church so they could pray.
But both of them lost track of time, returning way past noon.
The sun was down and it was dark and there was a full moon.
“What do you have to say to me, for it is very late.
The moon is up, the sun is down, your meals are on your plates.
You haven’t done your chores and now it’s almost time for bed.
The dog is barking angrily for he wants to be fed.”
“We are so very sorry but we did lose track of time.
There was commotion on the Bay although there was no crime.
And when we tried to leave for home the officer said, ‘No.’
He said we’d have to stay a while and that we could not go.”
“He said he had some questions so we would have to stay.
We told him that we had to go to church so we could pray.
The officer said we could go after we told the tale.
Of how in Wassamassaw Bay, we caught a big white whale!”
By Samia Arroyo for David Williams' Palindrome mad contest.
Copyright © Samia Ali Arroyo | Year Posted 2012
When improving upon the inner workings of your mind
and upon the realms within your body,
be sure not to lose your originality in the process
for it will become harder and harder to express yourself
and that in which you've improved upon.
Pride is a trap.
Simply be grateful for your attributes that make you amazing.
People make mistakes, people love and people hate.
Be free within; and the world will follow.
And as you find your flowers and swords crossed with others who do not see the beauty and infinite possibilities in you,
keep driving your soul to the beat of your sincerity.
Find your way out of the dark.
Don't ignore it, shed some focus on it, for it tells you all the ways you don't want the world to be.
There is something to be learned from everyone.
Express and listen with willingness to speak your mind to the death.
Beauty undefined until you crawl through all the cob webs with certainty.
Out of the dark; into bliss.
Peace and love bring us unity. Don't be afraid to hug my soul.
Copyright © Drew Rutherford | Year Posted 2013
Weston worked and worried
from sun up till sundown
for the freed-man knew the reason
that Pap had gone to town.
Pap had loved his family
but now that Ma was gone
Pap had said to Weston
"I can't do this alone."
Pap had hitched the wagon
and said "I've got to ride"
" But I'll be back this evening
with Leatha by my side.."
The young uns worried Weston
as they picked and teased all day
No matter how they nagged him
not a word did Weston say..
Pappy loved his Leatha
She worked right by his side
she proved herself a help-mate
not just an Old Man's bride.
Weston held each baby
As if they were his own
and all too soon for Leatha
God called Pappy home
The Young uns said to Leatha
we will give you land
some lumber for a two room shack
a mule and Pappy's Hand.
the Child bride was a widow
she had no will to fight
Weston was a freed-man
who became the widow's mite.
Weston spoke to Leatha
as the sun rose on the day
"Get yo babies Mammy
and lets be on our way"
Side by side they worked the land
a forty acre sprawl
they watched the sons grow in to men
straight and strong and Tall.
They called him Uncle Weston
their Pap had set him free
But he stayed to help their mammy
and hold them on his knee.
Crony; Benson; Dorris
and baby Elloree
all loved their uncle Weston
and now we come to me..
Weston died one Sunday
I now live on the land
where Mammy came with babies
and one old wrinkled hand.
They say Old Weston walks here
Him and his Mule Belle
They plow and plant the acres
and see that we are well..
I never saw a spirit
but sometimes late at night
I here the mules bell jingle
I see a lanterns Light..
Uncle Weston was a freed man
His skin as black as Night
But Mammy was a widow
and he was mammy's Might!
Copyright © Patricia Sawyer | Year Posted 2009
we got a lot of rain man's wearin ray bands tryin to shake hands
with baked fans it a staged plan to get carly rea pants in front of a video tape.
stumblin mumblin bumblin fools trying to get paid
To say f this chick and f that one
whatever absurd word that flows right off of this tongue
got a dirty mouth, here is some orbitz gum
im sweatin bullets and i cant even afford a gun
but its so free if i want to abort my son then take his lungs
so i can be one hundred and forty one
and be here to see the thwarting of the sun
mr. obama who've worn out your welcome
But what do I know? I'm this republicun
who thinks all girls and boys should become
either a monk or nun and never cum
and pay for all of our condoms and pregnancy prescriptions
Or am I christian who cant have fun
because I know hun its wrong to drink coke and rums
till i am drunk and wait for the ring to get buns
then go condemn kids with weed and pokemon
And its sad to think this what our kids believe
cause this what they preach on the MTV
and their heart beat beats to each tweet and re-tweet
till a pick leaks online then they move on to vines
whatever better trend setter that stimulates the mind
Copyright © Mike Conway | Year Posted 2013
Through the windows her light comes in
Shining brightly to my face
With rush, I rise from the bed
Quickly dashed in to the bath room
I was unable to check the clock
Because of her light I saw
I hastily washed my body; I couldn't eat before I dashed
Out from home, because I don't want
To be sack at work
Along the way I was wondering' why are the people so scarce
On the street, I got to work the gate is still shut
No sign of being open at all
What is happening am I dreaming?
What am happening, am I crazy?
Just then I remember to check the clock
Ah! Ho my God, I exclaimed
I have been fooled by
The early morning sun
Copyright © Afolabi Muideen | Year Posted 2015