Best 2012 Poems
The last poem…
Standing against the wall.
The longest teardrop made its fall.
Making one final call.
Never will I write about my letters again.
This prison is my pen.
*INK* My enemy~ at the same times my only friend.
*INK* My guardian~ the escort of words into my desires.
This pen is my prison.
No longer will I let it defend and comfort me.
No longer will I let it sit there and take control of my imagery.
No longer will I share it with you...
These visions have been the birth and death to what is reality.
I have no reason to lie; it is time to set my thoughts free.
And say goodbye………….
As I walk alone to the open skies of 2013.
~~The End~~
Come with me on a journey of thought
Open your mind and let’s travel creation
Let us not follow the sheep the masses
They are lost and confused
With no direction but to follow
Take off your shoes with me
And walk this creation
Let our souls feel the way
We shall tread the path of our desires, our happiness
The meaning of life
Our existence to inherit, this bounty of creation
Happiness, abundance, love and peace
Open your mind to enter paradise
For there it exists
Lay down your heavy baggage of fears and doubts
Lift your spirit free to soar like the wind
Have courage, faith and the wisdom of love
We shall follow the path of our dreams
A new era is a dawn
Enter the new frontier
Tread the path with me that awaits
A new time in our history of existence
We shall have, be, and go where our thoughts take us
On the path we tread to our dreams
Who ever you are, where ever you may be
Paradise exists,
When you tread the path with me
The world as we know it will end!
This warning the Mayans did send
But yes there's still time
After reading this rhyme
To honor Black Friday and spend
Another fresh year is here,
I would love to banish from my life, worry doubt & fear.
I would like to be joyous, true and live life each moment with zest,
and give the people around me nothing but the best.
I would love to talk, communicate and break mental barriers that are creations,
and work hard towards mending broken relations.
I would love to tell my wife to give me all her tears and fear,
and take from me all my love the loving words she likes from me to hear.
I would love to make an effort to be a good friend,
to my elder daughter and put all petty misunderstandings to an end.
I would love to stop to the people in contact ,the shoving,
and spend more time in loving.
I would love to stop being disadvantageous and outrageous,
and speak only the truth and for that be courageous.
I would love to fight my emotions all unfriendly,
and cover them all with feelings that are friendly.
I would love to learn to be sensitive,
and towards others be open and receptive.
I would love to practice not to crib about all the things life has not given me,
and be greatful for the great things around me I have an opportunity to feel and see.
I would love to learn to be content about all I have received,
and focus now on giving and helping those, whom life has deceived.
I would love to pray for world peace and plant more trees,
and work to help out for carbon emission decrease.
I would love to learn to be unforgiving,
and be more tolerant and caring.
I would love to right some of my wrongs,
and be true to myself and hum joyous songs.
Finally, I would love to learn to be humble and full of gratitude,
and to do so spend some precious moments of my day reflecting in solitude.
......a strange color, green
Become better informed, listen to your teachers,
educate yourself....which branch will the bluejay
survey from?
The hawk, circling, choose his best option?
Bleeding soldiers depend on doctors, rich men
depend on accountants, souls depend on preachers,
tap water depends on scientists and engineers,
nourishing the parched vagaries of citizens
and houseplants.
Words fall like acid-rain, seemingly harmless,
we thought we understood rain, it falls, it
nourishes, fills our reservoirs....then leaves a stain,
a clear outline of abuse, like evaporated salt, clinging
to our shirts after a hard day, sound bite upon bite.
Still, we wade through flooded streets, hoping the
tides will descend, rhetoric return to sanity, our lives
safe, from future floods.
after the elephants parade through every mind
the straw left behind
collects promises dumped in the streets
polled, polished,perfumed
ready to sweep it all up on election day
hit pause... wait four years
repeat
wait four years
repeat
09/08/12
6:09 pm
Oceans started to rise
As polar caps melted
Meteors fell from the skies
The Earth’s surface was pelted
The days grew dark
Radiation was high
Cosmic sparks
Lit up the sky
Religious zealots started fighting
Earthquakes continued to rumble
Mayan cults were uniting
Governments started to tumble
Fear grew rampant
As death counts mounted
Cities were vacant
Safe havens were touted
People looking for answers
As chaos ensued
Religions needed enhancers
Scapegoats were pursued
Prognosticators saying,
“I told you so
The end not delaying
Pray for your soul”
Humanity extinguished
Except for a few
The prepared distinguished
Who knew what to do
A new world was born
In 2013
The old world forlorn
Never again to be seen
The elections are rolling around,
And it's obvious to see,
The more one tares another down,
Lays claim to Victory!
Each is right and only them,
Can save us from our debts.
Enhance our life, correct all wrongs,
And throw away regrets!
So get in line to cast your Vote,
And do it with great pride.
You're sure to pick a good one,
Cause none of them have lied!
2012
Hungry reader, wild sea lover, wordsmith, listener of dreams and lies
Daughter of beloved parents –strong-- longingly and sorely missed
Left Alaska, empty nester, wrote a book and growled through heat of Greece and Crete
Heartbreak through a broken friendship--in a whim went on to Kenya to greet a student cyber found
Call from Israel , shall I go there? Someone needs my wily ways.
Tangoed madly with malaria , celebrating joys of life
Still Alaskan, North Sea calls me, taunts me worlds and seas away
Victoria, still dancing with life's passions
Not a wood yet, just sapling trees
with the circle of friends around,
mostly plots still unfilled but here
and there a freshly turned mound.
And it’s here she rests
where she asked to be
under wide open skies
and the shade of a tree.
And it is such a peaceful place,
a pleasant walk
when I visit every week and
just sit and talk.
There is a small herd of deer
that I’ve never ever seen
but by their hoof mark tracks
I can see where they’ve been.
They graze on the roses
cropping them low
but the roses fight back
and in time will grow.
In this pleasant place I sit
and think of my wife,
all the good times together
in our long married life.
I know in my heart her going
was for her a kind of release:
in this not yet wood with the deer
and sapling trees I leave her at peace
A New Year’s resolution I made
After drinking some spiked lemonade
To someone I swore
Not to drink anymore -
How quickly that promise did fade! (HIC}
Written By John Posey
12/30/12
one hundred meters run and swim
gymnastic teeters in the gym
judo boxing race on bikes
rowing coxing running spikes
water polo lifting weights
shooting solo tens and eights
football hockey all ball sports
fast and rocky kayak course
wrestling diving shuttle cock
sailors striving around the clock
dancing horses games with swords
racing courses springing boards
synchronized swimming taekwondo
atheletes winning skill with bow
hurdles cycling and pole vault
chasing spike king usain bolt
national teams state there claims
at britains dream olympic games
I wish I could be as gorgeous as you are now. Strong and strong-willed. Muscled and lean. Compact, hard, soft, curved. Covered in sand. You are all long legs, tendons straining to push muscles further. You are all long hair tied back, braided. Concentration written on your face. 4 girls. 1 net. 1 ball. 21 points. And you are a glowing beast.
Dedicated to Misty May-Treanor and Kerry Walsh.
December 14, 2012
Little pink coat, Mommy holding
little pink hand, the firehouse
must have seemed a marathon away,
the longest run of their lives.
Skedaddle little pink coat,
miniature uggs flopping,
one size up so they’ll
fit next year.
Nametags sewn in elfin collars,
forever suspended mitten-
sleeved jackets
in a Sandy Hook cupboard.
Good morning Ms. Davino,
Good morning, Mrs. Hochsprung,
Good morning, Mrs. Murphy,
Good morning, Ms. Rousseau,
Good morning, Mrs. Sherlach,
Good morning, Ms. Soto.
Who knew you’d be so brave?
I remember my first grade teacher,
when the hallways were safe
and nuclear attack seemed so remote.
Mrs. Lanza, did Adam
say good morning, Mom,
or just get down to
business?
We are all so sorry.
©Kathryn McLoughlin Collins
December 18, 2012
These shootings occurred in my hometown.
A dancer; "Doctor"
I was an Olympian;
great ceremony!
Mitt's plan is to lend out the buckets
A life of grand funk on a junket
his partner named Ann
Wealth is their plan
From bucket, to bank it, to "Funk It"