**"And his name was Jack"**
No one perceives what abides above the clouds.
A giant, a harp, maybe golden eggs.
I demand to see and feel before I believe.
A castle, a dream…. I want the magic beans!!!
I'm the daughter of a farmer.
I have a donkey to ride, a story to tell.
“Jack and the Beanstalk” my favorite tale.
Once upon, a morbid dawn.
I inhale a tiny simple yawn
Like the morning sun levitating over the farm,
I rise towards the village square to sell my ass
Along the open path, my ass and I desired a drink.
Near the rustic river,
I'd seen an old Englishman, sitting on a log.
It looked as if time was approaching his brink.
In his hand, he had a sack.
A bag, a bag, embroil of ivory and black.
His eyes were not from this ground.
His body fragile - it uttered a moaning sound.
He was of dirt.
I was pure.
He pledged his life to me.
I debated .... with many thoughts,
Although his eyes...
My eyes... Will never meet again.
"I want what's in the bag!"
In a gasp, he whispers,
"I'll give you anything for that ass.
my legs and bones can’t hold up on their own!”
I knelt down to where he sat
Smelling his essence of rot
I reached forward and grabbed his baggage
He griped, "This bag is all I got!"
I answered, "And this sir is a fine ASS!"
He replied, "I have no cash."
Scowling at him, “NO I want your demon seeds!"
My blood grew thin...
Inhaling and exhaling - his sin
The old man all shriveled and timeworn,
Proposed the birthright of the seeds.
"Yes, plant them! Plant them!"
I cried excitedly!
He pat the field.
Said "there I am done,
now clock as it expands"
To breed this story short...
He dispenses his seeds.
AND, I GAVE HIM MY ASS.
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013
Our first awareness
falling through time
through blood-rain, pure white snow, green vegetation
down into deep earth
Energy flowing-up through our pod
each day we grew bigger
snug together with brothers and sisters
bursting our little cozy shell
then one day
a father and daughter
plucked us from the vine
stripped – we lay bare upon a tray
disorientated and tender but alive
a life force deep inside us
our skin soft but hardening
then sleep . . . waiting for the one
Daddy!! Come see the beans
They changed colors
I see brown ones with white specks
Yellow with black dots
Orange with blue stripes
But wait . . . there are three larger beans that seem to glow and vibrate
one is blood-red
another . . . brilliant white
the last . . . forest green
What does this mean daddy?
Is it evil?
No my sweet darling
These are special beans
Descended from an ancient garden long ago . . .
no longer of this world
It was a place of love and light
No death but a deep communion between mother earth and us
The three beans are: Peace, Purity, Prosperity
These beans will feed a starving world
Bring healing to the hurting
Laughter to the downtrodden
Hope to the desolate
Love to the unloved
Life to the dead
These beans hold deep magic
How do they work Daddy?
a worthy woman is chosen
who is humble of heart
strong in spirit
wise in love
Who is this lady?
the magic beans choose
they only appear to the one female
you, my darling . . . you are the one
Me? I am only a girl
I have none of these things . . .
the beans see deep within a soul
they never lie
they have chosen you
together you will change the world!
Daddy, I am scared . . .
I am shaking
I am not worthy
breathe deeply, close your eyes
put the beans in your mouth
Daddy, I taste sweetness
Molasses, ginger, caramel . . . now chocolate
I see visions upon the wind
Blood, wars, rage, yelling . . . unbearable things
yes, darling the evil is strong here
let the blood from the red bean flow
let it mingle with your love
it will defeat this evil and bring
healing and forgiveness . . . peace
The white bean is singing with my voice – Daddy!
Sweet is her song
I see merriment, laugher, dancing . . .
People hugging and holding hands
My tears are falling
Filling rivers with waters of light, love and purity
Joy reverberates from mountains peaks
From my open lips runs rich green sap
Deep does the earth drink
Big drafts of life and love
I see fields flowing with
Cream, honey, and wine
Trees waving to the sun
The earth is rejoicing
I see beans being planted
In a garden
A man and a little girl
yes, my Little One, soar now
fill the world with your love
fill the wind with your song
Such is the magic of these colored beans
Copyright © David Meade | Year Posted 2015
*The feline Texan way*
A clean coat of paint - on my nails
Red shade of lips - on my smile
Solid oak charms - on my wrist
Country music - around my core
Flattering eyes - a rustic shell.
Join me in a "Country Girls Tale"
Every day I draw near the morning dawn,
Abide by the landscape towards the new Texas sun
A track of yellow roses and cactus galore
I brand my name everywhere I travel
Allowing you near the bounds of my Wild West soul
I maintain it above the snake level everywhere I roll
Got my head up like a cowgirl,
Men around my black leather chaps
I tilt my bull hide hat leaving behind a sweet Texas Trail
Driving down a midnight Texan storm
It takes more than raindrops to knock me from my- “2-Steppin’ world.”
A windy ride, bruises under the hide taking it in like- “A Real Cowgirl!”
I got a tight hold on my saddle, holding on to a brighter morrow
Enjoying the voices and the sound
Tex-Mex lingo, round and round
Ropers and Wranglers are how I dress
I'm all covered, except for the top of my chest.
Living’ it up^, down here in the south.
Erin’ the lungs, shooting up the sport
Long necks’ and kissing under a rodeo’ moon.
Honky-Tonk, tattooing the mockingbird.
You will see me sitting on the Country ground,
Peacefully staring into the optics of the "Alamo Stars."
Falling with the art found in the flag I hold.
I am The Wild!
I am The West!
“— A little dotty, but civilized!”
Enjoying the morning breeze,
Where the dew sits on the tip of Mother Nature’s tongue.
There and only there you will find me,
Under the brightest Texas Star
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013
"Soft defense is driven by my thoughts,
I vanish away into yesterday’s scenic road,
Set the mood among the dark clouds,
Wish I could go back to the night, of fourteen and cold.
Tell me not to look up and cover myself with the world.
Sorry I could not stay,
One too many excuses & lies,
To where they never fixed themselves;
I could not handle the air,
I had to breathe right the cold nights that followed.
I stood as one in love, under the starry sky…
Young and alone, I left the never-ending vindictive feeling.
The dust slept every reason inside my soul.
I travel the world, snoozing with the magic of the sand.
Stars that echo and drop twinkles to my walking toes.
The horizon was my blanket and shield
Where the light and night I wore,
Accelerating, escaping no more justification!
"Oceans of excuses sailed through my soul,
Heartbroken, but in love with defiance toward the stardust novelty.
With a sigh!
I hesitate not to look back,
Somewhere the ages turn to rust:
Old and grey, all alone,
The leaves I stepped on then are trample and gone.
One day I shall return for the proper goodbye.
For now, I must travel down this lonely road silently.
Slowly my heart will heal itself, nurturing the frozen sleet away.
Releasing the 14-year old girl at last,
In a body a mind and soul,
Confronting her with an, I BELONG HELLO!”
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012
I wish to claim
My yesterday sillyness
My crinkled nose grininess
That hide and seekiness
Spin the bottle
kind of geekiness
My hand in the cookie jarness
That pushing too farness
Collecting comic charminess
Hidden playboy kinda business
Cop a feel inquisitiveness
Being a bit
A true life witness
Loving the mysterious
Laughing more than being serious
What it was all aboutness
Thinking that it lead to freeness
I'd know just how to be ness
Eating what I want
Staying up late kinda keeness
Now I wonder
What was the rushness
To reach adultness
Full of it's doubtiness
What's it all aboutness
I witness it's dreamlessness
It's no longer about me-ness
To much sane-ness
Routine and sameness
No one cares if you cameness
Less is less
And more is moreness
Can't see the trees
Through the dark forest
So grab onto your girliness
I'll bring my boyness
There will be more
No more boringness
We'll spin in circles
Enjoy our dizziness
Is a serious business!
I wrote this one in December 2014.
I am now proud to enter it into Shadow's contest.
I hope you have as much fun reading as I had writing it.
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014
"The Dream Manipulator"
A wish upon the stars I see
Magical moments with sweet surrenders
Embrace the twinkle notes
My lid slip into an everlasting feel~ In trance, I dream
Candle wax drips with the night
Bejeweled with bloodshot posies
Lavander occupies scenery
A tune seductive and real~ In trance, I dream
In the country of warm fairy lights
I follow and listen to the echoes
Drifting around the moon's glow
Fog leaks under the new sky~ In trance, far from reality
Lost to the calmness
My physique belongs to the night
Giving life to an ordinary page
Faint away to your beating pulse~ In trance, I dream
Savoring the previous forecast.
The furnace kept warm
Motions moving from this curse
Sun-dance, away from the rain~ In trance, I dream
Suave lid pulls in the glow.
Soft memory fades away the feeling of yesterday
The day swings in a new journey
“DENIAL” is my choice of food~ In trance, I belong to my dream...
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012
Featuring: Keith :)
Fresh sand garments
The Mental Colosseum floor
~ AND THE POEM BEGINS ~
A mask, tiny holes
Dancing around my toes
Broad carbon steel
Safe behind my will
Equipment of revenge
Fencing the world with my eyes
I bow, with the morning dew,
My mind a dual in its own world.
When the curtains lift,
I prepare myself with a weapon--
Epee Crest to protect my chest
A sword sharper than fangs
I circle my blade around the door knob
Ready to face the world
Practicing --in hopes today, I won't retreat
A magical knightress
Painted in white
~ THE SHOW BEGINS ~
Queen Amri "VS" The Damsel
Wishing it was over
Stainless steel echoes
“Every poke counts”
Hoping & Taking
No room to disengage ---I retreat
Peacefully I secure my stance
I lean in, I disengage ---I flee
Back again, I lunge
The Queen is too smart to retreat
I -Amri, parry away from the argument of the lunge.
Recoil & Double tapped
In and out….. I'm struck
Back to the drawing board
On guard, I stand like a statue
Out of breath; feels like I'm dying
Yet I am still fighting.
The Queen knows what to do.
I Yield, She Wins!
Raising our foils
---At the on guard of another day
I move in swiftly, cutting like razor blades
Using refreshed energy
24 / 7
I attack, She provokes!
Sand runs its course
Victorious against the queen
Touch – tied – triumph -- Touché
Standing on my own 2 feet
I am the
-Grand Finale Show-
Conquering The Battles Inside
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013
~TAKE MY MONEY ~
Crimson Joy, L'Oreal Lips, DOLCE & GABBANA eyewear
Mascara from beyond LONDON Bridges
Like the pretty face found in front of Vanity Fair
What can I say? Perfect -- goes with my daily addiction
A beautiful morning cup, STARBUCKS got my money
It's not more or less the cost or taste.
It's all about my dependency, with popular brand names
Shopping from place to place --- with a smile on my face
VICTORIA SECRET and the way she wears her bra.
$72 dollars it's time to double up them d's
Christmas Red and December Blue
Walmart can't pick up my bust the way she claims with trust.
Hot Topic's on my dark fashion list, Star Wars decor to explore
Obsessed with any accessory from the Walking Dead?
Bennie, blankets, epic shirts with gore, spending $200.00 more
Vulture is a man, with no hair, sat me down on his chair
"Try, this mam' a flat iron that works like MAGIC."
"Did you say magic?"
Didn't ask how much, once he commenced to caress my hair
Straight and silky like when I first bought the Evolution Wand
I tried to resist, however, I swear I heard the Iron call my name
This time, I promise to use it more than once
Between you and I - I don't even care to do my hair
Next thing you know, I own the Lioness curler iron too
With Expensive shampoo and conditioner.
What can I say, Buy 2 get the third one free
Finally, I felt - I got the best bargain possible
I won't even tell you how much I paid
You'd probably think, $189.00 is steep
How could I say no?
He threw in a heating glove, that's what I call Consumer Love.
Heading home, I spot Best Buy, needing a case for my iPhone 6 plus
Strolling near aisle 3, I hear Dr Dre, started some new beats
Falling in love with the level of quality, $299.00 how can that be?
I put a pink pair in my basket, they have to be special and unique
After all, $299. Means they are popular :)
Bargains here bargains everywhere, check out time, I paid 550 dollars
I'm so proud of myself today, I saved and gained 101 points
Happy and dandy I feel complete,
I will end, my freestyling write
With uplifting words --- Aren't you lucky I'm not your WIFE???
WELCOME TO MY WORLD
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015
This gypsy soul is on the road
It leaves castles far behind
It abandons ghostly mist
which sabotages the caravan of life
It passes along the mountainside
by golden hay fields where daises bloom
By streams of waters which sweeps a withered rose
towards the decayed lumber fume
This gypsy soul is on the road from Edinburgh to Loch Lomond
against high winds,against the rain,against aquatic monsters of pain
This gypsy soul is on the road to the woodlands of your heart
where I would camp inside your tent as our blissful thoughts impart
This gypsy soul within myself and all the woman in me
would wantingly await your fingertips to compose soft pastels'fantasy
The smell of early coffee then fills our empty cups
The song of the cicada would echo in the shrubs
And as the chimney smoke drift sideways in the breeze
as warm dappled light filters through purple pansy leaves
The pressing of my lips would leave their crimson mark below your sun-kissed cheek
My arms would cling around your once muscular physique
We laze upon a hammock strung between two old oak trees
I play on your guitar my hundred melodies
As the incandescent half moon rises above the dusky hue
and orange paper lanternes float high in cobalt blue
We'd chase the opalescent glow of a million firefly
You'd be able to touch me before last embers die
This gypsy soul is on tne road in search to be set free
Across bridges on a journey,your compass -my destiny.
This is a repost of a poem I've written the 30th of April 2014
Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2015
Madame Mistress, ebonies princess,
Southern comforts golden jewel,
A golden beauty down south does dwell.
She hides many secrets beneath her,
Glittering mask of mystery's mystic spells.
A dark priestess is this Cajun queen,
Black widows magic women,
Known as Ms. New Orleans.
In her crimson gown, trimmed by
Velvet's purple hues, she smiles
Behind her white lace fan.
A beguiling angel is she the devils
The voodoo queen of the swampy delta,
Ruling over the shadow demons,
Whom guard the everglades.
Underneath fancy face and social grace,
Lies the misbegotten heart of a
Here the trumpets sound at,
La Carnival as minstrels stroll,
Down Bourbon Street with rhythmic,
Precision's precise step.
Come join in celebrations grand parade,
The Maude Gra. Where anything goes,
Here things are forgotten as the sun rises,
This grand lady of beauty's legacy's charm.
Presses one finger to her redden lips,
Speaking not more than a hushed whispers
Sigh carried across bayou.
Thus does the Spanish moss weep, for
Those lost souls swallowed whole,
Beneath nights dark covenant of death.
Ghostly images walk the muddy side shores,
Phantom spectators existing as prisoners,
Trapped in limbos web, a thin fine line
Between the living and the dead.
Beware lone travelers, those for whom,
Seek mysteries glamor and mystic,
Of the southern by ways.
All are welcome to taste our spicy
Yet beware pay homages respect,
To Mz. New Orleans, she after all takes
Great care of her own.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015
I often sit for long periods of time
hoping the perfect beginning will come to me.
To write a poem that starts with a pristine Capital
leaving readers with great expectations.
But after much torment, with not a fleck of gold in sight,
it's comes to my attention
that much like life, How it Began
isn't half as important as How it Finishes,
(And neither as important
as How it Is in the Present)
That's how it was, in any case,
when the landlord dropped the news
that sunny Idahoan morn;
It was a time for a change, they all said in unison:
my sister, my brother, my mother ---
And like the sweetest melancholy, I couldn't help but agree,
For I knew no matter where I went
I'd always have poetry ...
(but now it seems she has alluded me)
Through 2,500 miles and 9 states;
through a million and a half brand new things
... and yet
Inspiration refuses to sing.
As I sit here in suspense
for that metaphorical gravy train,
wondering when the words
will start flowing again.
Will it be like it was before,
when it comes to me?
Ears perked to the extreme
with expectations of a symphony?
When it comes to me ...
Will they laugh? Will they cry?
Will my words come across
like softest lullaby?
Because sometimes our muse just up and leaves,
we wonder why.
But no my most cherished friends,
we mustn't cry,
for it's been a great adventure,
has it not?
Remember the words of Dr. Seuss:
Don't be sad that it's over,
Smile that it happened.
Though words were once putty in my hands
I now take in the beauty that encompasses me,
content to just let it sit,
without the need to express it ...
But don't be fooled, Dearest Reader,
for I have the highest hope
that stars will dance,
leaves will fly,
birds will sing,
WHEN it comes to me.
But will you believe me when I say
I've watched the stars fall and flicker
between the leaves
a hand's breadth from my fingertips?
(go on and take a sip
the magic's free)
That I've breathed in the air,
as if it were honeysuckle blooming in the sky
just for me.
Oh and how I wish you could see
beyond the words of this page,
for it's beyond a tragedy
that all I have to give is this poem.
You know I'd offer you my eyes
for you to see the things I'm seeing.
(put your hand on my chest,
can you feel it beating?)
Like the petals of a rose
she holds me close:
the place where the bright rubicund clay
makes way for my Armstrongian footprints
---just one small step
then comes the leap---
My arms spread wide
hoping for discovery,
but preparing for catastrophe ...
And believe me when I say
I couldn't dream of sleep,
for when it comes to me
the minstrels will weep,
the prisoners'll be set free ...
as emotions become ablaze
in new and surprising ways.
For there's a lily pad pond,
just outside my backdoor ....
that's begging for a tale to be penned.
There's a place called Mount Alto
sitting just like a storybook
outside the backdoor, my friends,
whilst I sit here
listening to the cicadas sing
in Valley Soprano,
reminding me that everything
is but a poem-in-waiting:
The rolling green hills
bearing witness of mountain familiarity;
the black butterflies
the berry blossoms of May.
Everything is so new here ...
far beyond anything I could ever say.
And I hope I can do it justice,
to paint a picture in your head,
with every ounce of the things I've said ...
you won't be able to tell the difference
when it comes to me)
Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016
-"x+2 = 4"-
Enigmas of the soul
Do you know how it feels?
Never tasted before
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014
AWAKE ~ IN and OUT ~
Spring arising, before morning light,
I walk under the new epic sun
The aroma of yesterday, gone
Today's the day that will follow tomorrow
I quickly walk a certain walk
Unique is all I can display
Watery eyes staying in the past
While vehicles pass and pass
Crosses lacking faith
I stay awake and mend with my fate
Foggy toys, I want to play
I can't keep up with all your kicks
I look, I stare, at the walls
Bright and early, I step on old dolls
I stay and feel, the way you want
Lifeless, and still so full of energy
Mad words, unconscious forces
My sweet needs, now reside inside of you
Mad, sad, and outside the box
You close every door and keep me away from dark
You only allow me to feel your morning light
Why can't you let me see what's behind the shadows?
Why do you turn on all the lights?
I'm here the way you want me to be
Happy, and merry, for the world to see
This blindness will continue to spot
Unless you wake up first and remove the dot
You gave me the thirst, you once knew
So filthy, so full of -spew
Under this closed freaking door
I'm exposed like the midday sun
You bang my head on the wall,
You killed me in a way that made me feel!
I only answer to your call
In and out a hoop~ like a ball
In me, you can not find any real dreams!
Inside you filled me with a raging scream
I'm in wonder around your air castle
Strange and hung on your mantle
Stepping on a one footed slave
Alert, alert Am I!!!
I shake, we kiss, I wake,
I zip all things into one zipper.
Pounding my hands against my ears
Crazy, taking a jab upon all jabs
Crazy, you say~ that's me everyday
I'm up and I caress the photo we once had
I lay only staring at you once more
I awake before I sleep
Your promises I keep
In me~ you are also in deep
My stars change everyday
Waiting for you, to pull the trigger
Still wishing to be a sun digger
You can't touch or loosen the knots
Together we will daydream our way to the top
I make your nerve system come alive,
We run into the wind and listen
Quietly in our chamber of thoughts
Near and far, we both nod off
In this daily race, with no face
I caught myself awake,
The day I fell asleep for you.
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012
In search of the human mind
Different thoughts crossed my mind,
a few conclusions I could not find
The human mind has no stop!
Receiving input, danger, before I blow my top
Sometimes the light clicks
I think I figured out the problem
It's at the tip of my mind ;-)
Sorry, my brain cells did it again,
Ran out of THINK!
When it comes to love, I'm brain dead!
This is me talking to my brain,
"Are you just being lazy, you fell too quick?"
A game in a maze inside my head!
Give me some help, or what use are you
Open the way only you can unlock the door.
Unfold my future, stop hiding the key
How about it mind?
Do you want me to put you back on pills?
Stand back brain, while I explain your job.
The Human mind is not easy to read like a book
However, some are cruel limiting judgment, with one look
The mind plays tricks when too much information is perceived
The mind is related to the heart, sending signals the wrong way
The mind works when the body's asleep
(I call it a dream, I hope you don't mind I put it there!)
The mind creates beauty, wonders of the world
The mind is a soft whisper, a secret, my conscious ---I Swear
The mind is devious, tricky can outsmart like a fox
The mind is a beautiful thing to waste in a box
The mind can journey, without leaving its nest
The mind is knowledge, many fail to explore
The mind is a Captain, traveling far and beyond
The mind is like a paint brush, colorful art
The mind is a creature who hides in a cave
The mind is like pain, don't stop in its way
The mind is like a mime who does not talk at all
The mind is fragile, don't use it like a sponge
The mind is like a pair of shoes,
without the mind we're bare
The bottom line is, the mind is a mystery!
Don't mind me, I lost my mind, years ago :):):)
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010
Blow, blow, blow, sea breeze!
You that cooled the humid heat
and chased the restless flies away
from warm pacific shores
upon which I breathed
in refreshing horizons,
escaping the mossies’ stings
and incessant teeny hum;
the irritating tinnitus,
of the live, jungle’s fleet.
T’was on the soft sands, sitting,
dreaming, you weaving thru my hair,
soothing, your kisses upon my skin
heated in the sun’s scorch.
Oh, did I not follow you?
Upon those waves we sailed.
Away, away, away, to see the
flat line disappear into
wavy lengths just jostling by.
On, and on, and on, we blew,
till the gliding, graceful curves
became jagged jaws,
snapping with frothing ire
beyond irenic, where giants rolled
heaving all aside in their stroll.
Be gone, be gone, be gone, they said.
So we flew on high
Up, up, up to where the stars did sigh,
clustered in their velvet hammock,
swinging sluggish in night’s black.
And we’d gaze at our guide winking bright
until our eyes closed in sleep
waking on new beaches, to breathe
in carefree, frolicking caresses.
Alas, alas, alas, our paths diverged
when glanced the jet stream and time’s slow
passage was hastened to rapid flight
alighting in land-bound depths
far from the familiar ocean
where the heat rises again
trapped in a dry suffocation
of dusty bales choked in smog fog
and the non-stop rubbery roar
of the tar-sealed life jungle.
You sweep along the river’s wind,
as you blow, blow, blow,
bringing me cool Pacific.
Your chuckles chime
as I smile with the flowers,
swaying glad in your heartening visit.
I sit on my soft cushion,
dreaming, as again you brush gently
my hair and salve my burns.
Yearning, yearning, yearning, I inhale
your whispers among the petal colors
as we fly to an azure sky that dims
to twinkle in starry yawns again.
Come on, come on, come on, you say.
To the shores, let’s be on our way!
Oh! Sea Breeze, perhaps.
Will you blow me away?
Blow, blow, blow, sea breeze
(3/15/17:Free Verse narrative; ’66: CC Constellation: Stockton Marina, 3/13/17)
Copyright © taai tekai | Year Posted 2017
Mardi Gras "The Medieval Story"
On a hot, heavy night in Orleans,
Joan and Jane were seen rubbing chest on chest
An inviting, intimate moment, to undress
Two pretty trimmed tops, eating like dames
They touched in ways, that drove those who make war insane
The secret spilled before the sun sprawled across the floor
Medieval England, banging on iron set doors,
All around men and women, wanting to witness the whiplash
Beads and beads of love, thrown at their feet
Joan' and Jane', having fun in front of, yesterdays courtyard
Sweet acts of flagellation were performed to stimulate the crowd
Screaming, and receiving, intense, brutal lacerations
In the eyes of endless nudity, everything wet in between
Left to right, a secluded society, dance in masquerade
Two men rise and ravage Jane, from hip to hip
Join-in, was a Jouster, and Lord Johnsburg,
They came in a little closer to claim, Joan
Closing, and inflicting as much damage as possible
Crestfallen forces of the unknown, -the audience grows
Remain firm and indulge this wet period of the Middle Ages,
The first crusade held stones in each hand,
Applauding to neck the beauty of friends
A noose hanging high held no head on this day
Yelling to feel the pain perils of anguish,
This was in reality the vassal of Jane
The King, ask to see them on their knees
Before he seeded, sending the Spanish tickler,
Fetching for the finest skin
At her end, Joan, watched Jane, spread like never before
Perfumed skin, rising up in smoke, -Joan's final stroke
Left burning at the Stake, In a Medieval World, from hell
The Siege of Joan and Jane did not end well
A lonely Bard, now sits and sings a sadistic tale,
A tale, of dirty deeds, -a dancing bloody masquerade
Joan and Jane, compensating for the Mardi Gras Parade
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2014
(Submitted to Heather's Famous Couples/Duos contest. I hope you all like!) :)
“Save me, Mario & Luigi!”
As they both read the Princess’ distress call,
Written in dark cherry lipstick on his walls
“Mama-Mia, I just painted this damn thing”, Luigi whined.
They ride off into smiling clouds’ horizon
Knocking out hopeless Goombas & misunderstood Turtle shells
Rapidly exhaled hustles over flagpoles and grassy valleys
To see who will capture her 1st kiss...and NOTHING MORE
Towards that immense castle in the sky,
They climbed against its walls like two dogs in heat for the 1st time
Into un-screened window archways, they dive in
Their eyes stare threateningly against the Dinosaur-Lizard cross-breed reject
Mario & Luigi begin dropping mushrooms to see stars and taste invincibility.
But, like this battle, it only lasted 10 seconds!
For out from the Onyx darkness, a new hero emerged
Green, not with envy, but of Greek god magnificence
And a strut that would make a pole dancer jealous
He struck down with such brute force, tearing down the gates of Heaven & Hell
Jesus & Lucifer were pissed
It was Yoshi the dinosaur!
With one fell swoop & a high pitched Braveheart-style cry,
He starts dropping eggs like he’s been ovulating for days
Tossing them with such focus & epic awesomeness against his enemies
Knocking them down one by one
He gracefully sweeps up the Princess, staring down towards his enemies
In a condescendingly lifted face, places an old-school Boombox on the ground
With loud decibels of MJ’s “Don’t stop ‘til you get enough!”,
Yoshi pulls out & drops the mic, embracing gravity’s last word
The Princess devilishly smiles at her new green hero and rides him into the sunset.
©Drake J. Eszes
Copyright © Drake Eszes | Year Posted 2013
~Without suntan lotion~
The balloon man silently left the park
Where are all the jump rope kids?
The hopscotch sidewalk is slowly fading
The children are covered in sweat
I see dried pecan trees, everyone fights for the fountain turn
Where are all the pretty flowers, why do the swings sit alone?
Why must it hurt -the sun -the burn -the tan,
Must it be summer all over again?
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2013
Author: Elaine George
Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2010
I could not help but peek.
There it was, a blue and pinkish bike.
With streamers all for me...
A ride, I wanted to feel inside.
A surprise, I ruined for my eyes.
The joy I felt, a naughty kid like me could not hide.
Running back into my room, jumping with glee.
Waiting and waiting...............................................
Christmas day, comes to life.
I'm all excited.. With the biggest grin...
Mommy walks me to my bike.
My grin slowly fades away.
A red tricycle, I start to cry.
I did not understand, why my older sister got the pretty bike.
My Christmas, ruined by a ruby red tricycle.
Mommies, hug did not comfort me.
I cried all night, and asked my daddy'
"How can this be?"
"It's not fair!"
"it's not fair!"
Daddy, had only one response..
"Sweetie, soon you will see."
New Years Eve**
I sit near the windowpane.
Staring at my sister ride her blue pinkish bike.
Even the streamers were laughing at me.
Night fall comes around..
It's cold and everyone is asleep.
I sneak my way into the barn.
I stare at it~
My sisters bike!
The smile on my face, I still can't erase.
"This bike will be mine tonight."
I grab the bike by the handles bars.
I walk the bike under the stars.
Two hours pass, and still I can't operate the pedals.
Finally I remove my shoes, and reach the pedals with my toes.
I'm off into the night, than suddenly I fell upon them rocks.
If only I waited for that push from daddy's hands.
:To Be Continued:
Lesson not learned,
My scars all accounted for.
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012
~ JOURNEY to the center of me!~
Yield upon this blissful moment!
In, a cutting-edge welcoming,
This minute can only maintain-
Yesterday’s journey~ Desire~
The world inside my head, can think,
Deeper than a dream;
Up till now, anticipation has hovered my present thoughts
Day becomes night,
Night becomes day,
In a cave, I call my insanity.
Hallucination, raveling inside my head,
I sit where my thoughts entwine with my elusive slumber.
Everything inside of me is lucid and lost in madness.
I perceive the proper perception;
to think is only a thought.
Today’s journey~ Sensation~
Barren thoughts never exit the aggression in my mind.
I stand among the crying thunder locked within my head.
Of sweet flower they arise and bloom, above all shores,
I embrace the beauty of my deepest emotion.
Sands of time litter within my walls!
My thoughts sit and wait!
Minimizing themselves down to a speckled dot.
They are a few, sweet and creepy,
Those grab my attention,
Tomorrow’s journey~ Pleasure~
Passion wilting upon yesterday’s memory.
Concentrating and unraveling every single knot.
And, still I go back and give that one look.
A hot steamy want, judged by my brainwaves.
Notions, follow a path and indulge with no escape.
Danger escapades into a naughty reflection, "I am my own diversion!"
My thoughts are thoughtless as they can be.
Brittle and little like you and me!
Still my journey continues to emerge with all the thoughts found in the center of me.
Everyday's journey~ Begins with………Determination……
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012
adventure, growing up, hip hop, repetition, word play
A ONE STEP AT A TIME ©
Life is but a hopscotch path
Players vying for placement
Rules to follow aground
Tokens used for good luck
Practice runs lead to safe landings
Over ever-changing terrains
Hop skip and jump!
Land on a crack
You break your Mudder’s back
Marbles fill a bag of loot
Once directed into home holes
Missed turns are your takings
Marbled cat eyes forever coveted!
Crayons come in packs
Pick a colour to your taste
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Black is for rain clouds
Gone is a sun yellow
A is for Apple-
B is for Bunny-
C is for caterwauling
Letters up for a draw
Lettered tongues speak
The bad, good and the ugly
Making mountains out of mole hills!
Name-calling never hurts
Pain hurts from thrown stones
Calling one to take a chance
Towards another hopscotch
With hop skips and jumps
One step, two steps, three steps more!
Copyright © Diane M Quinlan | Year Posted 2015
You can see him now, dirty as a horse
that slipped in the mud, planting petunias
with that infamous shamrock thumb
(Irish from his Pop Appendage from his Mum)
stopping every now - and again -
to breathe deep that fragrance
rich with pheromone nostalgia
just like Grammy Georgina used too do
the apple doesn't fall far from the tree
I can still see her now, in her glory days,
with lovely lemon locks soaking up the summer sun,
rooted in that old-fashioned train of mind:
You don't stop your work until it's done!
(but a walking contradiction, just like her grandson,
... rose to her nose like ruby rebellion)
the tree doesn't grow solely from the ground
Water's an important player too,
especially from grandma's showering can
(laughing tears the shade of crystalline blue)
Course you can't forget those lifetime lessons either,
from dear ole Georgie, speaking with a sunny kind of seriousness,
about the importance of patience,
the fruitfulness of labor,
plucking up the surviving winters' courageous cucumbers,
the ground isn't just a place for our feet
Cause with her and I, we incinerate the stereotype:
young blood reflecting on infinity,
old knees dancing like she's got chipper chipmunks
for toes giggles in the background like a photobomb
to the expected chapel silence
(it's not all peaches and cream though,
sometimes we get violent)
Orange slush, flying miles behind us,
at times getting grazed in the face
by nature's food fight
our feet between the squish squish of the crab apple
We were two peas, if you please, in a curious pod,
like a whimsical joke from a laughing God:
Me, the champion of her scallions,
the guardian of her garden,
leaving all sensibility befuddled
with an, "I beg your pardon?"
I wonder if she knew then the gravity of the situation,
watching mama scream bloody murder,
as I came into this world ...
... was she scratching her head, lips curled, in questioning amazement,
just like Newton must have been, when developing his theory?
What d'you suppose they both were thinking?
The apple doesn't fall far from the tree ...
Written March 27, 2016
For the Cliche Contest Hosted by Silent One
Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016
I walk towards you,
as you stand waiting at the center of the bridge.
Beneath my feet, aged timbers span the churning river below.
With each step I see you more clearly.
My eyes search out the younger you,
that wild child with chestnut hair.
I can still remember your pigtails and ear to ear grin.
Back then, laugher was such an important part of us.
from the start,
we just seemed to get each other.
As I approach,
I see both of us in your eyes.
The twinkles hidden within the wrinkles,
laugh lines, the evidence of our pleasure.
As you open your arms we embrace.
For a moment, time relinquishes its dominion.
Two friends once again, occupy a sacred moment,
grieving and celebrating the passage of everything.
We wonder, what if anything can be reclaimed?
Together, wishing yesterday forward!
The bridge groans under our childlike expectations.
In a split second everything changes!
We place young hands on the bridges revived splendor.
Amazed, we look over its railing.
There below, the river reverses upon itself,
flowing backwards until it stops.
The glass like surface reflects back images of our younger selves.
I look back into your eyes with wonder,
how is this possible?
Once again we are both twelve,
standing on this baby blue bridge.
You too look shocked,
What is going through your mind?
Age has loosed its shackles!
The years reeling back like hands on a sprung clock.
I think my eyes deceive me, but it is you.
A cowlick sticking straight up and you have that crooked smile.
Your blue eyes playfully daring me,
to follow you into a new adventure.
This adventure occupies the reaches of our imaginations!
Your hand rests beside mine,
it feels familiar and safe.
How I have missed you my friend,
missed your voice, your exuberance for life.
As twilight lingers
and the stillness of time settles about us,
I see us as we were.
Long ago we said our goodbyes on this very bridge.
We promised one day we would return to this very spot.
A pinky swear magical promise!
Then we waded into our unknown years.
The river of time split us in two directions.
Many escapades, broken hearts,
triumphs and horrors.
Somehow, we grasped at the memories of a forever friendship.
A phone call, a transformative whisper,
beckoning us to return,
to a bridge,
to a time,
to a feeling.
Twelve years old,
hands clasped and swinging.
We skip to the beat of our own accordians. .
Together we dare life to give its all.
We are ready once again,
for skinned knees,
perhaps some heartache,
but mostly belly laughter and ear to ear grins!
Written in collaboration with Monterey Sirak.
It is a pleasure to work with such a talented poet.
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015
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
I remember Christopher Robin
When helping Pooh find honey
Was my biggest problem
I remember the blustery days
We trusted each other in every way
I remember When we helped Eeyore
Find his way home from the Sea shore
Everything was good
In the Hundred Acre Woods
I remember Curious George
I had to chase him a hundred miles
As soon as my mother kissed me good night
We went around the world
But we made it home
Two minutes before sunlight
And everything was alright
And Sammy the Seal would let me get on his back
And ride for a million miles
We exchanged halcyon smiles
And I remember the monster
Who brought fear to the hundred acre woods
Scarier than the Heffalump
Scarier than the thing with the Black eyes
He was pure evil in disguise
He told lies
Filled with evil and guile
Christopher Robin called him a Pedofofile
It tried to seduce me
Ten minutes after my mother introduced me
I remember that ice cold June
When Mama said “We’re getting married soon"
And Disney left the room
I remember when
And Hugh Hefner moved in
And H.A. Ray moved away
And Dr. Seuss and Syd Hoff
Took the Summer off
I remember seeing the door knob turn
The Pedofofile kneeled on one knee
Said he had a story he wanted to read to me
And he brought pornos to my bed
Mother Goose turned her head
Christopher Robin Fled
Curious George hid under the bed
And the hundred acre woods were
filled with dread
I remember us all gathering around
The meeting in Hundred acre woods
Christopher Robin said if I
Opened up the pornofo graphic
I could be banned for good
I asked him what’s a Pornofographic magazine
He didn't know exactly what to say
But saidt they were ten times worse
Than any blustery day
But i was curious like Curious George
I was curious like Curious George
I opened the Pornofographic magazine
I remember the woman
I saw more of her insides than a doctor
I remember the dog on top of her
But I can’t tell you what they did
And i cried out for Winnie the Pooh
I just wanted to be a kid
I remember the last time
I saw Christopher Robin
Tears rolled down his chin
he asked me why I had to
Let the pedofofile in
And it was a blustery day times ten
And I waved goodbye to Piglet
And Roo to Tigger
And the heffalump too
But Mostly I remember standing closely
To Danny the Dinosaur
He told me he would always love me
But I couldn’t slide down his back anymore
I remember 1974
2011 Dr. Seuss Poet M.e. Michael Ellis..
Copyright © Poet M.e. | Year Posted 2016
Sunshine streamed in through
the windows on a slant.
As she flipped long curly
red locks off her shoulder.
She took the other road
The road less traveled.
Because that's how she liked it.
Only because she liked the curves
in the road.
There was a time or two she wondered
about the light flickering at the other end.
But she always had hope in her eyes.
At times it did not matter whether or not
someone was by her side.
Though she did prefer to be connected.
Alas, it couldn't be with just any soul.
She's always been a free spirit.
Such as the gypsies of old.
Coming in with the autumn leaves.
Just as she left on a summers day.
In the quiet of her flickering shadows
3 / 3 / 2014 Monday
Copyright © Debbie Duncan | Year Posted 2014
In my shoes
Always walking in my shoes.
one giant step
never the same pair
my shoes are what keep me from walking into a wall
following every sign down this echo-less hall
my shoes, come in every size, shape and color
and what's is a walk without shoes
the walk will get long, and rough
my shoes have a tie that bond with no other
you never know where they might take you
There's only one way to find out!
Enemies of mine, can't find my size.
Who are they really?
I lose a pair, I gain a pair
Who really cares!
boundaries to cross
boundaries to lead
boundaries all around
boundaries on each stepping sound
walking on egg shells no matter the lies
dull heels upon a winter canvas sky
my shoes take me there,
the excitement the knowledge nothing compares
my shoes know the answer to every question you want to know
my shoes at times skip towards the rainbow
my shoes walk in my dreams
my shoes are every where, except right here
sleepwalking and crying Deja vu
tired of walking in someone else's shoe
I've walked there before, I'm there now
the mud under my shoes, tell a story
where I eat
where I sleep
the dirt on the top, are swept when I weep.
they eat just like me
all the massive energy I store
we talk and we walk
they listen, they carry me
my shoes have no mask,
they are rugged and non-stop
sometimes my shoes get me to the top
your shoes are running
to my comfort zone
your shoe, my shoe have a heart beat
your shoes, my shoes ever so sweet.
your shoes are like my shoes
just different feet
Your shoes, are not my shoes
they fit me real small
when it comes to my shoes
Why wear them at all?
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012
Since time immemorial across the Universe—
Traces of my vapor, my dust trails, my footprints, my being
Light up the skies of innumerable planets etching themselves
Indelibly in the consciousness of the stars and making visible
Impressions in the cold continuum of deep dark space.
I’m mere particle matter—in reality, an iota of infinity that
Continues its travel through time and space and all dimensions
Visiting the vast frontiers of the Universe while leaving minute
Traces of my Cosmic DNA.
I’m part of the Universe’s great existential family—
My quest is to travel, to arrive, to be one with everything I touch,
And to savor a continuous divine purpose.
What unbounding possibilities there are as I traverse the far
Outreaches of dark space on Flight Paths of Eternity.
And sometimes I’m a part of rainbows that kiss the Face of God.
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved (March 24, 2014)
Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2014
Do I dare look at you when I walk these streets?
Chase your shadow as it crawls under my feet?
For I have walked my way through
These pleasant, summer nights
Trailing any trace of you in amber
Hearing the laughter of men and women
Drunken behind bars, their obliviousness
Billowing with the smoke of cigars
And once again I begin to wonder
In these thoughts that shatter, asunder
Of how unvoiced these nights have become.
The scent of scones melting in tea
The sugar, the beach, the creamed coffee
How foolish do I ought to be?
How much emotion becomes too much for me?
And the sun that strokes the clouds at sea
And hides its rays amongst them-
I watch… as all this beauty encircles me.
My eyes see not the glamorous dream
That has been haunting the lives of many it seems
The loveliness of love and its glimmering gleam
The word that is only word
That dream that is only dream.
For I have seen it on all these smiley faces,
Hurried looks, and warm embraces
Can’t you see?
How we all have been entangled in one giant
Web of emotion?
Is there ever a place between Wordsworth’s
Daffodils and Poe’s Raven?
I walk these streets listening to a busker
Play his harmonica-
As I flip a coin into his flipped hat,
How different we are, him and me
Or are we?
Restricted we are to language and time,
Enslaved in memory, engaged in rhyme
How much easier it is to think of you and me
Rather than the misleading amounts of
Separating land and sea –illusory-
I observe and am observed as I walk these
Streets, and I feel I know nothing of
Neither you nor me.
Copyright © farah chamma | Year Posted 2010