Best Demise Poems | Poetry

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New Demise Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Demise poems are below this new poems list.

Demise by Chapman, Briana
Clyde's Demise by Hinshaw, Robert L.
Our Demise by Evans, C
Death by Delirium - Poe's Untimely Demise by Morning, July
DEMISE OF HUMANITY by AYODEJI, ABDULFATAI
Papaw's Demise by johnson, randy
A Fleas Demise by Rigoler, Maurice
THE DEMISE OF JOY by Moorman, Curtis
CRY OF DEMISE by onclaud, nette
calculated demise by stars, pipping

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The Best Demise Poems

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Tell the Night to Hold Me


I made for you, a castle
But I built it in the sand
I steadfastly tried to constrain the tide
But the bastions didn't stand

I planned for you, an Eden
With needs to see us through
But the ripened fruits had corrupted roots
And I fed them all to you 

Tell the night to hold me
I no longer have your arms
I'll brood and swoon, cradled by the moon
Still pining for your charms

Tell the night to hold me
June no longer follows May
'Til the moonbeams, blue, drift me back to you
I'll forget about you ... every day.

I dreamed for you, a family
With two parts that acted one
Yet my truth's demise only bred goodbyes
Lucid of the tales I'd spun

I wished for you a future
Ripe with jubilance and mirth
Still I left recanted and took for granted
The measure of its worth

Tell the night to hold me
I no longer swim your eyes
Instead I stare into vacant air
And count the countless why's

Tell the night to hold me
'Til Apollo's old and gray
For until the stars are not mine, but OURS
I'll forget about you ... every day.

I desired for you a partner
Who would stand beside you, true
Though that came to be, that man wasn't ME
And it broke my heart in two

I promised you'd be happy
And in ways, that's come to be
Wed a man who's good - loves you as he should
I just wish it had been me

Tell the night to hold me
It no longer heeds my will
As I feared the most, I've become a ghost
And I haven't tears to spill

Tell the night to hold me
For I've no more left to say
Please remand what's just as I turn to dust
And forget about you ...

Every day ...

'Til I'm swept with wind, away.




* FIRST PLACE in the "Lost Love 2017 Poetry Contest", John Hamilton, Sponsor. *



Copyright © Gregory R Barden | Year Posted 2017


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In A Sad Blindness, One May Yet Find Hope

In A Sad Blindness, One May Yet Find Hope
           (The Solemn Prayer)

Raining splashing, fierce winds blowing and huge trees sway
I pray not for all this, on some other black day
With dark blue shadows plotting my early demise
I seek deep wisdom from sages worldly and wise
Not just some clever words to soothe this shattered heart
Instead sweet hope, light in words, to this life restart
With power to waken these world-blinded closed eyes
Stop salty tear drops falling from splintered skies.

On this day, life should see past these looming black-storms
Find solace in love, hope and my loving wife's arms
Yet that stone wall, yields to nothing but great power
Far more than this broken soul can muster this hour
When thus lost, can one ever find again that Light
Healer of dagger stabbed wounds, found on a dark night
I pray, gift wisdom to walk that one true-lit path
Release this sad soul from, this evil, wicked wrath.

Raining splashing, fierce winds blowing and huge trees sway
I pray not for all this, on some other black day
With dark blue shadows plotting my early demise
I seek deep wisdom from sages worldly and wise
Not just some clever words to soothe this shattered heart
Instead sweet hope, light in words, to this life restart
With power to waken these world-blinded closed eyes
Stop salty tear drops falling from splintered skies.

Robert J. Lindley, 2-07-2017

Syllables Per Line: 
12 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 0 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 0 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 12
Total # Syllables: 288
Total # Words: 225

Note-  I decided to write this poem, this morn. About half had already been composed in my head yesterday afternoon and I finally sat down now to put pen to paper.
Believe me, in that it was not an easy task to finish this and be satisfied with the results.
Maybe I am just tired and stopped because of that.
I don't know. Maybe on another day, I could have and would have thought this lacking and rewritten it..
But today, I have only enough to say, this is as it is(and thus it may stay), hope you may find it agreeable and not fault me too much .......


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2017


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All I Am

Long slender tendril of mist in the morning snakes slowly across the cool water, wandering, endlessly, searching, moving slowly, seemingly without purpose, without direction, without destination. It fades like a ghost into the shadows, only to reappear when the filtered light winks anew and its silver coat of crystalline breath shimmers in its tears. It reflects the light of the lonely world through which it passes, like a wraith embarking on its unknowable quest, aimlessly meandering, the dark water, its home. Only briefly does he touch the occasional soul he encounters leaving cool moist kisses on smooth tender cheeks searching for the warmth he knows he will never have, the closeness he can never share. He remembers. Yes, each caress, each kindness. The gentle whisper of the trees as they speak among themselves, but they don't see him. They don't feel him as he slowly slips past. He watches as the fish jump to catch their morning meal of damsel flies, oblivious to his presence. He leaves a part of himself on each thing that he touches, each blade of grass, every grain of sand, the sweet scented petals that spring forth from the buds of the morning glory, the lovers embracing on the shore. How he envies each. Eagerly, openly he gives, asking nothing in return. Everything he has he gives, everything he is without expectation he gives, yet, no one sees him. But a moment of mystery, he soon becomes the fog that clouds the vision, nothing more than a haze to look beyond. No one shares, no one to share. Always alone. The sun peeks expectantly over the bleeding horizon sharing hints of the promise of a new dawn. He awaits. The light brightens as the shadows recede hiding like a child hides shyly behind his mother. Still he waits. The shining smile of the sun beckons him as he feels the hint of its warm rays, filling him. Impatiently he reaches up into its waiting arms. How he wishes to feel its caress. How he wishes to hold it against him, to feel its radiant glow. He twirls and spins like a whirlwind flying higher and higher until the sun's smile begins to wane. He knows he can never reach it. Looking down again he sees himself fading, the warmth he seeks the harbinger of his inevitable demise. Such longing he has. One last sad smile he offers, a radiance that encompasses him. Disappearing like his hope and desire he watches life as it awakens before him.
02/10/17


Copyright © James Inman | Year Posted 2017


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Death by Delirium - Poe's Untimely Demise

Listen to poem:
 Come close and learn the mystery
 buried o'er there on yonder hill.
 The truth reveal'd in whisp'ring winds
 was hid these past two centuries-
 the penance paid for wanton sin.
 (To swallow now such bitter pill
 cast down my throat against my will
 hath left me in a ghastly state,
 and yet this tale I must relate).
 An evil gale on that night blew
 and terrors that he never knew
 would visit dark upon that place
 as death pursued and quicken’d pace-
 yea, overtook him in the chase.
 No starry night to light the sky,
 no moon o’er head the sky to ply-
 Just ebon in the heavens ‘bove
 as darkling figure flutter’d wing-
 unearthly sounds unlike the dove
 hover’d o’er him - a ghostly thing.

 And the raven flew into the night
 And the raven flew into the night

 A wager made the ante in-
 the loser who for want of heart
 throws in his last remaining coins
 and prays tonight’s the night he’ll win.
 A feeling deep within his loins
 portends his money shall depart
 and ne’er he’ll gain that fresh new start.
 Lo! The deed held in pocket deep
 ensures the promise he will keep.
 And so once more a playing hand
 is dealt before a wretch’d band
 of cons who’d never pray’d to God,
 whose backs had ever felt the rod-
 the holy path they’d never trod.
 Thus trembling he arose to leave,
 no ace to hide under his sleeve,
 without a friend nor place to go
 he exits quickly, penniless,
 into the cold, harsh winds a’blow-
 'O that this night might soon be past.'

 And the raven flew toward the east
 And the raven flew toward the east

 The deed a closer look is made
 and ‘fore too long ‘tis evident
 that all is not quite as it seems-
 ‘tis nothing but a grim charade.
 What happens next, as if a dream-
 the guild of men with cruel intent
 on finding Poe are now hell-bent.
 And so into the night they sped,
 a hound from hell inspires dread-
 the rabid beast held fast by chain
 in chilling wind, in blinding rain.
 A movement in the distance seen,
 a man alone or so it seems-
 the hound set loose in low ravine.
 It's prey runs high upon that hill,
 each howl his tingling spine did chill
 until ill fate lays hold of him-
 his future prospects e'er so grim.
 The evil jaw upon him clench’d,
 he screams aloud before the fall,
 the poison in his blood entrench’d-
 Delirium now cast it’s pall.

 And the raven flew toward the light
 And the raven flew toward the light

 There as he lay on yonder hill,
 the chase now o'er, the silence sweet-
 he gazes 'bove in still of night
 as clouds departing shew goodwill.
 The vision ’bove ‘tis nay for fright-
 he hears a steady rhythmic beat,
 so low and calm as if discreet.
 The heavens part to his delight-
 a figure standing in the light
 extends to him an outstretch’d hand
 whilst voice like waters bids him stand.
 He wonders now if just a dream
 or are things really as they seem-
 a voice or just a nearby stream?
 Quite suddenly he feels no pain
 as wind abates and same the rain-
 The hand then grabs him by the throat,
 another tears his woolen coat-
 his life doth flash before his eyes
 and thro’ the dimly lighten’d sky
 he sees his bride to his surprise
 whose only word to him is, “Why?”

 And the raven flew into the sun
 And the raven flew into the sun

 He breath’d his last then bade goodbye,
 the troubl’d bard who’d gone awry-
 the mystery resolv’d at last
 on how it was that Edgar pass’d.
 And if thou wonder how I know
 these secrets held from long ago-
 although the truth thou surely crave
 I’ll take this knowledge to my grave. 


Copyright © July Morning | Year Posted 2018


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Ungrateful child

I woke up that day with tears in my eyes,
after I heard about your father's demise.
Guess you've never understood,
the point of being his blood.

I remember when your mother left,
how he was totally bereft.
Ran off with the man next door,
not once did he call her a whore.
Not once did your mother call,
too busy having a ball.
Forgot about her only child,
to live a life fun and wild.

He knew he had to be strong,
so the world would do you no wrong.
Every night he held you tight,
his eyes your guiding light.
Every time you would cry,
he would kiss those tears dry.
Worked three jobs so you had the best,
not once did he fail in your request.
He suppressed all his sorrows deep inside,
he was broken but never did he subside.

Single he remained for the rest of his life,
dedicated to you, so you would not face strife.
Yet you too, decided to walk away,
tell me what led you astray?
You called him a religious bore,
when you ran out of that door.
He had your best interests at heart,
but you belittled him for not being smart.

Then you wonder why he finally broke,
all that stress gave him a deadly stroke.
Now you stand there with your unfaithful mother,
with someone who is young enough to be your brother.
Crocodile tears stream from your artificial face,
as his coffin is lowered into his final resting place.
How ironic it has started to pour with rain,
maybe it's God washing away all of his pain.

Don't come running to me for sympathy,
I have no time for those with no dignity.
All his sacrifices now you seem to realise,
but he can't hear you, it's too late to apologise.
Because of you he lived a life heartbroken,
forever you will regret those words unspoken.

P.S
If you think his inheritance will help your austerity,
he wasn't that stupid, he left it all to charity!

The Silent One
16 February 2018

Based on a true story






Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2018


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And Sweet Is Her Demise

In primrose twilight, summer is still near. She whispers in my ear; I hear her in the one lone owl that hoots to only me. I wake to find her shining through the clouds - though breathing not so warmly on my cheek. I glimpse her waning smile as in a field I dance to soundless music in her sun. My mind goes wandering, and in the breeze I hear her sigh, for she is lingering within the scent of asters that I pluck. I’m hanging on to that one glint I see of her before me in gold glitter dusk. But in the cries of geese across the sky, she calls goodbye, and sweet is her demise. Dec. 2, 2016 Now used for the Blank Verse Poetry Contest of Janice Canerdy


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016


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Mimes at My Funeral

When my time is done and I am finally laid to rest
I don’t want to be recalled as one who lived life depressed

So as I wrote my will, I chose to leave an instruction
That laughing gas be inhaled by all those at the function

No mournful eulogies will a pastor have to invent
For my funeral will be held under a circus tent

When dozens of clowns emerge from the tiny Volkswagen
Reams of my silly limericks Bozo will be dragin’

And as they’re read aloud, family and friends who knew me best
Will say, “She had a sense of humor, this we can attest.”

Mimes will mimic me trying to write the world’s best novel
As my corpse hangs from the trapeze, surely they will marvel

Laughter will ensue as they shoot me from the cannon
Flying high in my demise across the great Grand Canyon

All the children will smile and there’ll be no tears allowed
So no one will ever remember me as a “dark cloud”

There are people who seem to take life way too seriously 
When I meet my Maker, don’t view this as a tragedy

Dad called me his “happy girl,” so let me go out that way
I want to leave them laughing as I reach my judgment day


Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011


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The Magic Hourglass

April's come and gone. Now May is here; the grains in the hourglass have already started sifting down. Dew is on the roses. Days of linking daisies will soon begin. Transparent skies of night will show constellations when the fire-breathing dragon comes to freckle school-sprung children, who baring skin, will run with glee through sprinklers. Soon enough the kids will be tumbling in leaves fallen from the trees of their back yards, and then following bright autumn's demise, the filtering of seasons' sand quickens till every grain has drifted like snow, burying another year. May is on her way; again the hourglass, like magic, is turned over. For the Show, Don't Tell Poetry contest of Thomas Martin


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015


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A Crown of Thorns

1
Insanity has its own wellspring and demise.
There is no better place to hide than between coils
of convoluted grey-white matter which can't recoil.
Mind has no leering lips to scorn or show surprise 
as ungoverned, the ancient demon-dancers rise.
The traitorous bits, which cut with Brutus’ red fang,
have no regard for the womb from which they sprang.
They seek dominion; they care not for your cries.
Crazed, their freedom paid for on the rack, how they sang
of anything, of windigos’, and warriors winged 
of fresh flesh beneath a gibbous moon's harangue, 
where those in sanity beneath their blankets cringed.
Night terrors sweat the sheets of the weak, as fear sprang,
a ripened, musky-scent arose from those unhinged.
2
A ripened, musky-scent arose from those unhinged
cloaked in mirrored, morose, magic; the mind a foil,
the heart, the soul, the sunny days, caste down, embroiled; 
destined to languish convulsed in the depth of coil.
Brightness, so dimmed, is lost within a rancid soil,
left to meet horned demons all but unarmed, alone, 
no company except the mirrored self-entombed,
no bliss state, no ripening sweetness to uncoil
a compost heap of bitter memories, atone ...
atone, little mother, well-used wife, wander now,
seeking ever seeking, yet finding no one home,
insanity wakened, waits, patiently endows ... 
empty days and nights, the infrequent sound of om,
cuddling the traitorous bits, shooing brighter dreams roused.
3
Cuddling the traitorous bits, shooing brighter dreams roused,
the teeth of dogged night rise-up, they breed turmoil.
Deep within the sleeping mind of men, sorrows roil.
Abandonment, disloyalty, hatred espoused,
all shriek to the traitor, the night arouses. 
Niggardly night, loath to lose ground within the dome
of blanched white, gray matter, within this skull of bone,
delights in the sorrowful detail night houses.
Insanity licks raw the salted wound entombed, owned.
"What could we be?" the ego cries to he or she.
"What would we be?" the windigo screams but, “alone.”
On, on, they chatter in the carapace, they breed, 
spreading dark matter, for they've no chaperone,
no friend to stay the brutal cousins, so mislead. 

4
No friend to stay the brutal cousins so mislead,
so in darkness, fear and hatred spread on fertile soil.
Yet, self-hatred shields its sharpened claws, as day uncoils
filling the breach with bright creations, dark concedes, 
and dims the room while manic laughter recedes.
A sunrise bows through prism-glass and colors swell
a lighter laughter comes, newborn to dwell.
Hands that once drew only blood, now tune bent reeds                        
of green, blades of springtime grass within the dell;
where larks sing and long lost lovers dare to reunite, 
no mention made of darkness or the depth of hell,
for sanity has cast a lighter stage this night.                       
Daybreak suspends the demon-dance upon the fell,
now, fairies prance in pastures high, and verse delights.
5 
Now, fairies prance in meadows high, and verse delights
her fancy takes a softer turn at his behest,
with buttercups, in a Fairy Ring, they coalesce,
and shine the golden glow beneath a chin of white.
With the talent of a troubadour, love does strum
upon desire's strings the raging beast is culled
as coy love songs and  sweet lullabies emerge from
the hidden depths of mind where sanity is mulled.
With the talent of a troubadour love does strum
upon strings of desire the fearful beasts are culled 
as coy love songs and sweet lullabies emerge from
the stygian depth where her frail sanity is mulled.
How long will harmony dance to love's blissful hum
Will dark's whine wake, disturb, insanity so lulled? 
6 
Will dark's whine wake, disturb, insanity so lulled? 
A scent of jasmine fills the air with swarming gnats.
Her covered ears belay the sound of feral cats
yet, huddled in his sheltering arms, her pain is dulled.
Dulled, but not waylaid, raging, she becomes unglued
She starts to rock, to whimper, and then, cry out- loud
begging for the dev'lish tide to leave, as he vowed,
renting strands of flaxen hair from her small skull.
Torn, he watches as she fades within a shroud,
a witless waif, bedeviled by the harvest moon.
He had to leave; he could not stay beneath this cloud
ever waiting for this, her omnipresent doom.
His love had its limits and yet, he was not proud,
Oh, he could not stay and watch her be consumed.

7

Oh no, he could not stay and watch her be consumed,
to have his pleasant memories of ardor's bloom
be marred by images of her so poorly groomed. 
No, never would he stay to see her be consumed.
One morn he left, his sum was not what she'd presumed. 
And, she sat in the rocker by the door unfazed,
her bowed lips o'er cast and her eyes o'er glazed, 
alive, but not, her nascent sanity entombed.
Death had come, death of the mind, his metal now assayed
he ran from old memories, as each thought enticed.
Their first tryst 'neath jasmine vines vanished in a haze.
Was love's reward, a sweet repast, mania's disguise?
Would true love have held the course where sanity betrayed,
insanity has its own wellspring, and demise.

First Published Five Poetry Magazine 2014




Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2015


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Falling leaves, beautiful demise

Leaves talking, beautiful demise

If a leaf could talk, it would say, please, take your time
life is acted out in stages, every song has it's rhyme
When a leaf dies, its dynamic impressions in its flight
a stunning display of artistry, dazzling to the sight

Green turns to crimson, flaming tangerine and gold
a leaf's transforming demise is a beauty to behold
As sap runs dry, youthful vitality turns evanescent
the beauty of a leaf's demise is resplendent iridescence

A leaf's downfall, granted, is a casualty of the season
it's journey into oblivion, is transfixing beyond reason
When a leaf, takes its leave, exits gracefully the scene
We're left breathless with the vision, an event to be seen



September17,2016




Copyright © John Hamilton | Year Posted 2016


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Let love create rainbows in your speech

 
Hey you Don't let hate dominate. Let love sate - animate With the pain in your heart. Set it free from the start. Let it go, let it part. An ugly form of art. That don't make you look too smart.
In the realms of sacred humanity Hate is regarded as insanity Hypocritical cries are your disguise. Judgemental eyes lead to your demise. There's no prize for those who like to despise. When sweet little lies become your allies in sinful ties, your ego will baptise. To love is wise, let it be your franchise. Love thy neighbour that's what holy books teach. But when they sin they turn the other cheek. Surely they should practice what they preach? Let love create rainbows in their speech. I understand the eyes can go blind when anger starts to confuse the mind Remember Socrates's test; three filters to consider are best. Heavenly guides from high above, encourage to plant seeds of love. Sow, sow, sow, you can't go wrong. Just like they sing in that song: "Every woman every man Join the caravan of love (Stand up) stand up Stand up Everybody take a stand Join the caravan of love (Stand up) stand up Stand up I'm your brother I'm your brother don't you know She's my sister She's my sister don't you know We'll be living in a world of peace And the day when everyone is free We'll bring the young and the old Won't you let your love flow, from your heart." 12 November 2017 Lyrics are from Housemartin's song: caravan of love A timely reminder Once upon a time an old man spread rumors that his neighbor was a thief. As a result, the young man was arrested. Days later the young man was proven innocent. After being released he sued the old man for wrongly accusing him. In court the old man told the Judge : They were just comments, didn't harm anyone.. The judge, before passing sentence on the case, told the old man : Write all the things you said about him on a piece of paper. Cut them up and on the way home, throw the pieces of paper out. Tomorrow, come back to hear the sentence. The next day, the judge told the old man : Before receiving the sentence, you will have to go out and gather all the pieces of paper that you threw out yesterday. The old man said : I can't do that ! The wind spread them and I won't know where to find them. The judge then replied : The same way, simple comments may destroy the honor of a man to such an extent that one is not able to fix it. "If you can't speak well of someone, rather don't say anything. " Let's all be masters of our mouths, so that we won't be slaves of our words." “Gossips are worse than thieves because they steal another person’s dignity, honour, reputation and credibility which are impossible to restore. So remember this: when your feet slip, you can always recover your balance but when your tongue slips, you can never recover your words!” Author unkown


Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2017


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Just another day without you

An abundance of fragrant florets constant reminder of regrets Although they consume the misty air they seem stale, because you're not there Your absence has left a hollow void Ghosts haunt turning the mind paranoid. Just another day without you Oh my love if only you knew How the guitar still strums your song One more day alone seems so wrong The hands of time are no friends of mine Growing old, should have been our shrine In your world full of confusion Life can be full of delusion My love for you still remains supreme Our reunion is my last dream Just another day without you Oh my love if only you knew how the guitar still strums your song One more day alone seems so wrong The heart craves to hear your sweet voice but your departure has left no choice Now only silence is what I hear Life has no sound without you near. Only the room vibrating with cries Won't you save me from this demise Come before this dancer's heart dies Bless me with one last sight of your eyes Just another day without you Oh my love if only you knew how the guitar still strums your song One more day alone seems so wrong Still that guy who made your heart go 'wow' Don't say its that final curtain bow Senorita don't forget our vow My beloved come back to me now Just another day without you Oh my love if only you knew how the guitar still strums your song One more day alone seems so wrong The Silent One Simple Musing 3 November 2017


Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2017


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Dear Men

Dear men,
Explain to me why I stand alone. 
Women are quick to uplift their father, sons, and brothers
Quick to maintain the home,
But when she needs support,
A woman stands alone
Explain to me why a woman has to stay in her “place”
Is there no room for a woman who is more than a pretty face?
Is there no room for a woman who can stimulate you intellectually
Or is it a woman’s only duty to please you sexually?
Explain to me why beating a woman gives you power
It gives you strength
Is masculinity so fragile
That you can’t maintain?
Without getting pleasure from pain
Explain to me why your brother goes scott free
When he takes advantage of a woman
While she is left to be ridiculed, blamed
As society throws dirt on her name
And she falls victim to her own demise.
I despise
The men who are so oblivious to their own privilege
That they think patriarchy is normal
Excuse my language 
As I speak a bit informal 
For you to understand
That you cannot catcall me as I walk down the street
It’s disgusting and demeaning
No I am not obligated to give you my number
Just because you ask and think you are getting a pass at me
No I don’t need you to hold the door open or carry my groceries
I am a strong, independent woman and your belief that I am weak
Is insulting
No I do not have to give you my body just because you bought me a drink
My body belongs to me
No matter what you tell yourself or think
Dear men,
You can no longer say that you are ignorant to my issues or my demands
Because I have clearly listed it for you to see.
Now only a real man
Will know, that women deserve equity












Copyright © Kapree Tripp | Year Posted 2017


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Visitor - A collaboration with July Morning

Prologue:
A beautiful extra-terrestrial female researcher is sent down to a remote island to observe earth and beam her findings back to her planet. She’s strictly forbidden to make any human contact. She detests everything about earth.

A research scientist, in a small boat fitted out with equipment is dispatched to investigate monitored, unusual signal activity emanating from this island.

Alas, a storm causes his boat to be shattered on rocks with loss of all equipment. His life is ebbing away as he is washed ashore.

And so the saga begins…  
~~~~~~~~~~~
In a palette of shimmering shades I dreamed Of moons circling moons within a celestial frame And scintillating stars that flickered through the day As melodious echoes sweetly called my name My thoughts of home are just nostalgic images that tarry Oh Earthling how I detest your Earth and its sustenance Through parted shrubs with bated breath your progress I observe To beings of my planet so dissimilar your semblance Undertaking this mission I realized a challenge it would be In truth your species to my world kindles an obsessive passion To secretly observe - make no association – my strict instruction Till finding you fading fast evoked these feelings of compassion Our paths were linked when I discovered you washed ashore Have you not wondered how you survived your sunken craft? Sensations of when our lips first touched cavort through my mind Breathing my life into you else it slipped forever aft Your countenance paler than before - will you arise today? Oh beating heart - my bond to you grows stronger by the days Natheless your harsh world would to me be a misplaced acceptance Despite my ‘ought’ to transmit a recall cue forestalls and strays
<~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~>
Strange visions overwhelmed me in deepest slumber Could this be heaven? Yet all is familiar, I've seen this before Blue sky o'er head, chimerical cumulus clouds without number Sandy beach below, the sound of gentle waves crashing, crashing My head, my head! Was I but for a moment dead? Throbbing, aching as though caught in some cosmic vise Real or unreal? Fantasy or truth? What ethereal dreams bled Into my brain in my hour of demise? And yet... Eyes of lemon-jade staring into my own. Translucent skin of topaz blue Against my battered and naked torso, tenderly caressing me, stroking my hair A face, a face not like my own, her teardrops as the morning dew Yet the vision keeps phasing, like daylight into dusk and then back again Soft lips of hyacinth pressing gently against my own, The sweet taste of honey as a healing zephyr fills my lungs In and out - in and out - flesh of my flesh bone of my bone O saviour, soul mate from the stars, from whence have thou come... Wait! A stirring in amongst the trees - footfall sounds I can't dismiss Am I being watched? - Who's there? I rise to my feet, unsteadily And turn to face my benefactor - Or is he/she/it my nemesis? Am I standing in a holy place, or my own private purgatory? Head spinning, body feeling heavy – a sudden need to rest, to sleep Darkness encroaches like malevolent shadows greedy to overtake Crescent moon appears in southern sky - my soul to keep, my soul to keep As dim fades to black a face suddenly hovers, a tender kiss upon my cheek My Celestial Angel returns …
We hope you enjoyed this episode. The story continues in 'Visitor Part 2'… Acknowledgement: Many thanks to you July Morning. It was a great pleasure putting this arrangement together with a talented poet such as yourself. It’s strange how quite by coincidence we were thinking along the same theme and how our thoughts came together so easily to produce this story. I shouldn’t be amazed at the speed with which you scripted your verses. I’m looking forward to working with you on the next episode. Maria POTW 28 January 2018
A Maria Williams and July Morning collaboration 22nd January 2018


Copyright © Maria Williams | Year Posted 2018


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Visitor - A collaboration with Maria Williams

Prologue

A beautiful extra-terrestrial female researcher is sent down to a remote island to observe earth and beam her findings back to her planet. She’s strictly forbidden to make any human contact. She detests everything about earth.

A research scientist, in a small boat fitted out with equipment is dispatched to investigate monitored, unusual signal activity emanating from this island.

Alas, a storm causes his boat to be shattered on rocks with loss of all equipment. His life is ebbing away as he is washed ashore.

And so the saga begins… 


In a palette of shimmering shades I dreamed
     Of moons circling moons within a celestial frame
And scintillating stars that flickered through the day
     As melodious echoes sweetly called my name

My thoughts of home are just nostalgic images that tarry 
    Oh Earthling how I detest your Earth and its sustenance 
Through parted shrubs with bated breath your progress I observe
     To beings of my planet so dissimilar your semblance

Undertaking this mission I realized a challenge it would be
     In truth your species to my world kindles an obsessive passion
To secretly observe - make no association – my strict instruction
     Till finding you fading fast evoked these feelings of compassion

Our paths were linked when I discovered you washed ashore
     Have you not wondered how you survived your sunken craft?
Sensations of when our lips first touched cavort through my mind
     Breathing my life into you else it slipped forever aft

Your countenance paler than before - will you arise today?
     Oh beating heart - my bond to you grows stronger by the days
Natheless your harsh world would to me be a misplaced acceptance
     Despite my ‘ought’ to transmit a recall cue forestalls and strays

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Strange visions overwhelmed whilst in deepest slumber
Could this be heaven? Yet all is familiar, I've seen this before
Blue sky o'er head, chimerical cumulus clouds without number
Sandy beach below, the sound of gentle waves crashing, crashing

My head, my head! Was I but for a moment dead?
Throbbing, aching as though caught in some cosmic vise
Real or unreal? Fantasy or truth? What ethereal dreams bled
Into my brain in my hour of demise? And yet...

Eyes of lemon-jade staring into my own. Translucent skin of topaz blue
Against my battered and naked torso, tenderly caressing me, stroking my hair
A face, a face not like my own, her teardrops as the morning dew
Yet the vision keeps phasing, like daylight into dusk and then back again

Soft lips of hyacinth pressing gently against my own,
The sweet taste of honey as a healing zephyr fills my lungs
In and out, in and out - flesh of my flesh bone of my bone
O saviour, soul mate from the stars, from whence hast thou come... 

Wait! A stirring in amongst the trees, footfall sounds I can't dismiss
Am I being watched?  Who's there?  I rise to my feet, unsteadily
And turn to face my benefactor - Or is he/she/it my nemesis?
Am I standing on holy ground, or my own private purgatory?

Head spinning, body feeling heavy - a sudden need to rest, to sleep.
Darkness encroaches like malevolent shadows greedy to overtake
Crescent moon appears in southern sky - my soul to keep, my soul to keep.
As dim fades to black a face suddenly hovers, a tender kiss upon my cheek

My celestial angel returns  …


* to be continued

** true pleasure working with you, Maria



Copyright © July Morning | Year Posted 2018


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At Heaven's Gate - Parts 1 and 2

PART 1:          THE MEETING

Alone one night neath lantern light, I trudged a weary mile.
Forlorn, I went with shoulders bent (the storms around me howled)
until I met a Silhouette behind a sultry smile – 
She gazed with eyes that mesmerize (Her body caped and cowled)
and stayed my way with question fey... ‘Why don’t you while awhile?’

The churchyard groaned, an organ moaned, the bells of midnight chimed
as wanton winds awoke and dinned, and mistrals multiplied.
A prostitute – not shrill but mute, with gestures pantomimed –
snuck by in haste, with tracks untraced, beneath the evening tide.
The Persian moon, like arced harpoon, arose and slowly climbed.

The Silhouette (a pale brunette) arched eyebrows meant to please,
and down the lanes, on windowpanes, the shadows danced and sighed.
A meadowlark within the dark, somewhere beyond the breeze,
embellished Her with wisps of myrrh while deigning to confide
to nightingales veiled whispered tales of human vanities.

She doffed her cloak before She spoke with sighs of sorrow sung
(like mandolins, as night begins, when mourning day’s demise)
and spun Her tale of grim travail and tears She'd shed when young.
As jagged volts of thunderbolts lit up the dismal skies,
a velvet fog embraced a bog in coils of curling tongues.

Through summer vales and winter gales Her secret thoughts were voiced.
Midst storms so cruel (neath lightning’s jewel that glistered on the ridge)
She reminisced, She touched... we kissed... Her lips were wet and moist...
A lighthouse dimmed, while moonbeams skimmed across a distant bridge
to avenues where residues of shallow shades rejoiced.


PART 2:          HER TRAGIC TALE

“Midst sweet perfume of youthful bloom, the lonely spirit braves
and often cries and sometimes dies in quest of her amour.”

While starry-eyed, a ship I spied, a’ sail upon the waves –
The galleon docked, the seagulls flocked, the Captain swept ashore
where, debonair with gypsy flair, he led his salty knaves.

While passing by, he caught my eye – I tried to hide a blush,
for ambiance of innocence leaves fire’s ice congealed.
His gaze (defined by eyes that shined) beheld my cheek a’ flush.
I bowed my head while caution fled, I felt my fate was sealed
– a bird in spring with fledgling wing – he’d snared a  falling thrush.

He said ‘Hello’ – I answered ‘No’ and yet before he’d gone
said I, ‘I’ll wait at Heaven’s Gate not far beyond the Pale’.
At dusk he came neath moon aflame, and left before the dawn
just humming tunes along the dunes that lined the sandy trail
beside a pond where morning yawned, where swam an ebon swan.

We met again, and once again, and once again, again
entangled in a love called sin, in whirls of make-believe.
While in my arms, with voice that charms, said he ‘I must explain –
the tide awaits at morning’s gates and I must take my leave’.
Then tempests formed and vapors swarmed in ardor’s hurricane.

‘Forsake your home and we may roam’ he smiled as if to tease
and still naive, said I ‘I’ll leave, in silver buckled shoes’.
He took the helm in search of realms, before the morning breeze –
with tearful eyes, I bade goodbyes with fare-thee-well adieus 
and sailed above a wave of love across the seven seas.

We swept one morn around Cape Horn and sped for Gold Coast Bay.
With naught to reck, I strolled on deck, a baby at my breast,
while zephyrs blew and seagulls flew above the ocean’s spray.
Our ship soon moored, we went ashore and off to Fortune’s Quest –
with gold doubloons which shone like moons, he gambled through the day.

Two deuces wild... he thinly smiled... another card was drawn –
he called and raised with eyes half glazed, was dealt a dismal three.
With betting tight throughout the night, the final ace was gone
and so he lost... at what a cost... alas the prize was me –
with empty bag and pauper’s swag, he left me doomed at dawn.

A buccaneer with ring in ear sneered ‘now, my dear, you’re mine’.
He held my wrists to thwart my fists and then... my honor stained.
In midnight’s swash, the sky awash with tiny tears of brine,
I broke his clutch with nothing much of me that still remained:
a residue when he was through, left clinging to a vine.

In morning dew, the good folks knew, and spurned me in my plight.
The preacher man pronounced a ban and wouldn’t condescend,
ignored my pleas on bended knees, my prayers by candlelight.
While cast aside, my baby died... my world was at an end.
Until this day, I’ve made my way beneath the shades of night.

Continued in Part 3


Copyright © Terry O'Leary | Year Posted 2013


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Your Seductress Speaks

You don’t know this woman
You haven’t got a clue
This paragon of beauty
Is a mystery to you

You think that I’m so gentle
You think that I am tame
That’s just to get you going
And trap you in my game

You think that I’m so giving
You think that I am sweet
But I’ve come to devour
And you’re my tasty treat

You are a man of steel now
But you’ll melt under my gaze
You'll toss and turn in torment
Eyes blurred in love sick daze

You think you can withstand me
I laugh at your demise
Your body burns like kindling
You're scorched by smoldering eyes

My hands are fierce and vicious
I tear to reach the prize
Then sear your flesh at will
Press in to sturdy thighs

My lips, they ravish your lips
My mouth burns down your neck
My tongue brands all your body
Leaves you a melting wreck

You cry out in your moment
You clutch my hair, you sigh
No ease in the momentum
Till flaring flames run dry

You pant in sheer delirium
I speak the words you need
I coax you to the heights now
My wanton passion freed

The world explodes around us
Inside is molten fire
I’ve rocked you to the heavens
But I’ve sated MY desire

And when the blaze is over
I lick your sweat dewed face
I smile the smile of triumph
And leave without a trace

PRACTICE FOR SEDUCTION CONTEST! ;)


Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2014


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The Phantom Horse

A phantom horse came galloping 
beneath a silver moon
across a field of recent war 
where corpses’ bones lay strewn.

With thunder in his hoof beats,
again and then again,
he raced along a river which,
like blood, ran through that plain.

Though frightful he appeared to be
on land that reeked demise,
a sole intent gleamed strongly
in his sad and ghostly eyes.

Then finally, as dawn began
to paint the broad stretch red,
the unrelenting stallion stopped
and seemed to bow his head.

He briefly knelt, then stood upright
and bore away, with speed,
the spirit of the knight for whom
he’d been a trusty steed!


For Skat's Premiere Contest number 9 Poetry Contest


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2014


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Dear Humanity:

Dear Humanity:

You know I love you, right?
Stop calling me Mother Nature!
I hate that!
Genderless am I…
Oh, yeah, I get the ‘bring life forth’ bit,
creator of new life, pregnant with your desire
…yada, yada, yada,
my womb is your hope,
my anger your demise.
You have dominion over me?
Get over yourself!
Not the life-force, I wobble,
buoy in a black sea,
world in flux.
Some of your tribes cajole me
with Songs of the Good Earth,
their rhythms heal my rivers and plains,
my blue veins, renewing rains;
good vibrations make mountains grow.
Others try to dominate me,
defile, desecrate and destroy me.
Written in the Book they say,
patriarchal sons of kings.
Climate change deniers my enemies.
Poor, dear, naïve humanity,
my icecaps are melting, oceans swell,
water will consume the land.
My extremes test your resolve.
I can live without you,
is the opposite true?
Homeostasis, my cycles of life,
the seasons my command.
Are you so balanced?
Don’t fight against gravity,
there is no escape.
Eagles soar and lions roar,
your footprints on the shore,
all these shall pass away.
So if you seek immortality
then keep your home sacred.
Love all of me,
every rock is my child,
every grain of sand a seed,
everything you do to these,
you do to me.
I am Gaia. I am home.

Prayer for the Summer Solstice 2017


Copyright © Phil Capitano | Year Posted 2017


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Life's Fading Light-Part 2-Heroic Crown of Sonnets

Alone

For in the end it's just one soul that's passed.
Alone I'll lie in sod of greenest grass
to answer for the sins that I've amassed
at gates of gold I'll see if I may pass.
In to this world I entered all alone
in cold and dark and dank so old I grow,
on thoughts of younger days I bitch and moan
with little hope of changing what I know.
But, now as time reflects upon my skin,
the lines of life grow deep upon my face.
I feel the fear of darkness closing in
and of my soul it leaves but little trace.

     So lay my corpse upon this bier stone cold.
          The end of life so often is foretold.

Faith

The end of life so often is foretold
from storms of pained emotions we retreat.
When colors fade to black as we grow old
we search for gold from rainbows we can cheat.
Through lonely thoughts of our demise we trod,
yet try, we still, to save our lives from dust
With souls we've fore to sold we offer God
if but in his creation he would trust.
In promise lost we bide our time, we cope,
for what remains beyond our short lived lives.
The heaven of our father's faith's our hope,
inside of us is where this hope yet thrives.

     Is our eternal faith enough to know,
          when cold the winds of fate speak soft and low?

Moments

When cold the winds of fate speak soft and low
I hear its voice sing smooth in morning dew
and all of life on wings aloft will go
and fly on breeze of gentle pastel hue.
So sweet the taste of life will linger on
with rainbow flavors left upon the tongue,
like cream filled candy, but too soon it's gone
dissolved like so much piles of beetles' dung,
I know that life is precious as fine gems
reflecting each new moment that we live
with flowers' petals sweet upon their stems
our time in life is all we have to give.

     As years in life pass slow like buds in cold
          in warmth and light the blooms of time unfold.

Lies

In warmth and light the blooms of time unfold
to search through lost emotions is our goal.
In hope that we shall keep from growing old
we capture fading thoughts to keep us whole,
but when the final sunset has gone dark
the memories we cherished are all lost
and only ghostly photos leave the mark
of lives that pass like melting winter frost.
I can not bear the thought of you alone
when life has passed for me and I am gone.
What good of all the sweetness you have known
if lonely night awakes to lonely dawn.

     Forever lies I've promised, you will see,
          as petals fall, my life will cease to be.

Doubts

As petals fall my life will cease to be,
yet time goes on without a moment lost
and still the winds of fate persist and blow
without remark or care or pennies cost.
What worth am I but in your care and love
or have I lived my life in selfish need.
I've tried so hard, for you, to rise above
but in your eyes do you just see my greed.
For am I who you wanted me to be,
the perfect man to share my life with you,
or did you wish for me to just be me
and give you love and promise to be true?

     When end is near I know in you I'll dwell
          in whispered songs of love my heart will quell.

Life

In whispered songs of love my heart will quell
so soft it beats when broken scars are healed
yet pain of loss for you I can't dispel
when left to dream of all that you've revealed.
The secret  words of love that you have told
in moments sweet and pleasured touch exposed
to me are bits of life for me to hold
when fantasies of you have been reposed.
Now laid to rest inside my very soul,
I've loved you strong and deep for oh so long
for in my life you've played a leading roll.
Without you dear this life would be but wrong.

     Though many words as yet I wish to tell
          with tender tears to you, I say farewell.

Death

With tender tears to you, I say farewell,
my sweet, my life, my love, my need, my soul.
From you the one for whom my heart once fell,
this world of pain will now exact its toll
Too soon my corpse in death will lay stone cold
and tears from you will be my sole repose.
The troubadour whose words sing songs so bold,
alas, is left struck mute in death's last throes.
Will loves last flower fade without perfume,
to die unsmelled with human heart's adieu
its fragrant scent to linger in my tomb
or heaven sent, will stay and comfort you?

     At end of life my love I hope you'll know,
          when orchids bloom in beauty life's aglow.

Life's Fading Light

When orchids bloom in beauty life's aglow,
as time, with heavy brow, is nature planned,
too soon the beating heart begins to slow
when passion's ember burns the gentle hand.
With flames of love that flicker old and grey,
but moments gone, as youth filled questions asked,
the feelings lost to seasons never stay
for in the end it's just one soul that's passed.
The end of life so often is foretold
when cold the winds of fate speak soft to me.
In warmth and light the blooms of time unfold,
as petals fall, my life will cease to be.

     In whispered songs of love my heart will quell,
          with tender tears, to you, I say     ...farewell.


04/19/16



Copyright © James Inman | Year Posted 2016


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Inebriant melodies

Daylight is greeted with the horrific stench of food chunks 
swimming in stomach acid, dribbling onto bed sheets.
Accompanied with the embarrassment of
brown syrup puddle stains.

Head is pounding 
like a hammer - hammering nails into the skull. 
Cumbersome movements drag drowsy flesh to the mirror,
as bloodshot eyes with yellow hue, glare in reflection.
Exhausted hands rub dense stubble,
as heavy eye lids struggle to stay open.

A cocktail of coffee and a cold shower
comfort this somber slumber.
Mouthwash and mints help disguise
the fragrance of yesterday's session with Bourbon.

Continuous sips of water, attempt to quench sultry thirst,
but the blandness cannot douse untamed flames.
Especially as days consist of sitting
surrounded by monotonous blank walls,
and staring at cracks on a vase -
silently watching wilted flowers crumble.

Struggling to defeat temptation from fermented demons,
summoned by cravings for that burning sensation,
the tongue cries for mercy.
Infiltrates the mind luring it to
lust for sour liquid passion 
that infuses the bloodstreams.

Hands trembling, parched lips quivering -
only golden nectar can ease the pain. 
No need for a glass, as bottle is devoured,
with momentary pauses of 'aaahhhhh.'

So begins the daily quest,
to suffocate every sorrow.
To feel numb upon request,
with no care for tomorrow.

Favouring fantasy over reality,
each drop kills the pain.
The bitter sweet taste is a lethal injection,
but the numbness helps to feel perfection.

In a place where nobody notices -
alcoholic symphonies lead to intoxicated sympathy.
To deal with being alone, to forget the world,
to forget the name.

Envious eyes can be a crime, 
leading to jealous tendencies.
Hiding secrets can lead to becoming a victim 
to a self inflicted demise.

An empty bottle leads to remorse.
Bitter sweet tears roll with shameful giggles.
Now the cracked vase looks perfect with flowers blooming.
Inebriant melodies mock the mind.
Attempting to dance, legs stumble and crash to the ground.

Laying there on the floor - laughing.
Then crying hysterically.
The heart has no desire to be sober,
only to remain intoxicated until death.

The Silent One
20 October 2017




Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2017


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My Funny Valentine

Vino
Vinny
Vino
Vinny
There was no doubt I was seeing double
Vinny poured another glass
I actually think it was whiskey
There we sat, at the back of the Angelos Steak and Kill
The joke wasn’t lost on many
The joint was dark and filled with smoke
Each booth offering up its own unique privacy

Never an evening went by
That some devious plot or plan wasn’t being hatched
Tonight was no different
Vinny laid it all out on a napkin
He told me revenge is bitter sweet
Tomorrow night we would feast on the bitter and the sweet
I had no doubts
I was ready to prove my worth
I was ready

Well the next night came faster than a hangover
Eight of us left in two cars 
We had a shot of grapa, only that
The Capone said we needed all are wits about us tonight, and then some
Now no one could argue that, and no one would

Laughter and bravado go hand in hand
We arrived on the side street, where one lone doorman 
Was smoking his life away
Little did he know, how soon that fag would be his demise
One shot to the head, and blood spurted 
The water fountain of death
Began its dance


In went Vinny in the lead and me right on behind
One doesn’t waste time with fancy introductions
We were there to deliver the red blood of revenge
Sweet death served to order, and we followed orders
The dinnerware and glasses shattered, wine became blood
Made men fell, bullets tangoed uniting the living with the dead

A blood bath
There are no other words to explain
The dead danced with our bullets and fell onto the now red carpet
Revenge was served, they said bitter sweet
Me, I fell to my knees
Vinny he looked over with an uncomprehending stare

The waitress serving drinks
Was shot right through the heart, it was my bullet
That murdered my finance
For me this revenge was to be only bitter
Dazed I lay, in a pool of blood, hers

Sirens in the distance
Vinny yelling, get the hell up, get the hell up
There was no heaven or up for me
I was as good as dead
They left
I crawled over to her

Tears clouded my vision
I laid my head upon her breast
Entwined in agony, within the grasp of reaper
I caressed her soft hair, I kissed the sour blood of my sins
My enemies in death, served me my own poison


She put a finger to her lips
Seductively 
She whispered shhhhhhhh
I whispered back, with my now black heart

Be my
Funny valentine

She smiled softly and died


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015


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Make Love To Me In That Ancient Place

The Bedouins, bequeathed with the sacred beauty of paradise harsh,
trusted guardians of jealous gorges and gifted groves
lead me from the Wadi Musa to the humble ingress of Petra,
saying with thrill, the Jin of your Jihad awaits you White Lion,
we embrace as Brothers of Light and ancient dust,
their camels wise in soft steps
impart wide eyed, gentle blessing to me,
a shrill whisper of teasing wonderment 
whisks the sand of centuries strewn small
with a cobra's awakening whisp and hungry hiss,
evening enters the terrible terrain
glowing a cool blue dark and daring
along with it a blowing a zephyr unzips the zodiac of my ancestors,
stars of a billion years sympathize with this soul sojourn, 
alone I journey inward like a brave wish wafting
into a heart wanting to disgorge a secret need,
the smell of salt, sandstone and myrrh infiltrate
my mind with a mineral magic animating millenia of sovereign economics,
lamp light revealing the blush and rue of the the Siq's colossal rock hue,
shadows of caravan traffic bespeak exotic trade from distant industry,
narcotics from Kush, Persian rugs, spices and incense of Arabia, 
jewels and hides from India, the medicine and silk of China,
beasts and papyrus of Africa, wine, weapons and art of Rome,
slaves beautiful and strong carried from every known ethnic throng,
a river of precious merchandise replacing the might of carving waters,
at the egress of this artery's eternal enterprise
I behold with burgeoning awe the Nabataean Treasury, 
it's gladsome geometry a harmony of will, wealth and worship,
warm red cream stone become bone of a peoples' politic,
architecture for their angels and sanctuary for culture,
depository for dreams indebted to desert Deities,
I blow a kiss to the niche of Tyche, Goddess of fantastic fortune,
as I tighten my checkered turbin I hear a soft song
of Hellenic, Semitic and Arabic recipe, stringed hums with chime
and it moves me into the open, bleak basin towards the Monastary facade, 
in the black of it's errie entrance a spirit of evanescent education
escalates my enchantment as corners wake to pathways,
murals like waving reflections stream across the walls
I see Moses crack the water stone for salvation
as the Holy Arch spirals an avalanche of absolution from Earth to Heaven,
Solomon and Sheba secure a trade treaty with royal love,
I witness Jesus in the Jordan with John the Baptist
kindly laying him in the steady float of faith,
then the tragedy of John's demise
by the sour ambition of Herodias, the whore of defacto power,
I observe the affection of Joshua Ben Joseph 
with his woman of street sense as they endure trial after trial,
scenes of the Pax Romana and Judaen revolts parade 
by my eyes as terror, torture and triumph
wear masks of glory and glee,
the Essenes embarking for the Dead Sea defense,
Muslims and Crusaders found not the bounty of this land,
here remains the treasure of Pharaonic voyage,
exiting with renewed moral for love
I look to the top of Zibb Atuf
where I see the thunderbolt of Zeus Hadad and cornucopia of Atargatis
burn sweetly in the night, periwinkle smolder signals righteous passion,
I feel you, my Love, paramount in the depth of every sense I have,
turning entranced to the Roman Theater I proceed to the north east rendezvou,
you are lovely and glamorous on the stage of amplified ardor,
starbeams spotlight your coordinated curves and fertile instinct,
you begin to seduce with a dance, breathtaking, impulsive balance,
moving with the smooth heat and poise of a breath blown candle flame,
a crescent of torches beautifies your frame, crimson silk wings from you,
I stand for a moment on the outer upper rim
gazing, with great heat upsurging through every muscle,
knowing you are jubilant for me by the way you move
I descend the stairs undistracted from the language of your invitation,
your cinnamon skin skims my own as you go round and round
and the crave for your ravishing rub forces my pursuit,
I catch your tender waist as you spin into my hunting arms,
your fingertips feel so right in my hands,
we sway like romance on fire in the storm of desire,
your restive back nestled inbetween my shoulders
my obsessed lips move up your neck in search for innocent sensitivity
overtaking your naked earlobe with a hot mouth and firm pull,
your body, begging to be breeched brutely calms slowly
as I release spontaneous poetry into your ear saying...

When the moon was young
unbattered by stone and age
glowing bold upon Earth newly spun
the first man and sacred Woman
made love of flesh warmly woven
from they're erupting hearts came wild knowledge...

J.A.B.


Copyright © Justin Bordner | Year Posted 2014


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The Teacher of Islam

Islam is non merciful
Islam is about repressive means
Islam has no heart
Over and over this chant shall start

For when we close our eyes
For when we judge our fellow man
Chants may bring us comfort
However false is the ringing of the rant

Men of terror may fly their black flags
Claiming a merciful god orders them to kill
al-Shabab reads no holy books, be sure of this
At reckoning they will be omitted from Allah’s bliss

So let us now pay tribute and honor
Let us hold a tissue for a tear so well deserved
The blood of Islamic hearts shall surely open your eyes
As I myself bow, in despair at a humble mans demise

That day, both miraculous and tragic
Salah Farah, a kind man, now a hero
His Muslim brothers became the strong and the brave
For they followed the true teachings of Islam

Salah Farah has passed on from Gods bountiful earth
A Muslim of brave heart and generous soul
He stood up for the love of his teachings
No man he claimed, should defile his fellow man

As terrorists point their rifles
At Christians shivering in fear
Salah Farah and his Muslim brothers
Stood firm with all of humanity dear

Salah Farah proclaimed “we are all brothers”	
Let us do no harm
Let Muslims protect Christians
Let Christians protect Muslims

For we are one, no matter religion
No matter destiny, we must all hold true
To the values of compassion and love
As every Muslim that day, stood ready die

I proclaim, Salah Farah flew the flag of hope
His brothers choose love over death
The all Merciful’s eyes too had tears
His flock of disciples saw his message clear

Teaching
Mercy
Love
Compassion


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016


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STIFLE

Try opening your ears and shutting your beak
You never listen, incessantly you shriek

So now that my claw has stifled your chatter
I’ll give it to you straight; here’s what’s the matter

The hatchlings have flown, you’ve empty nest syndrome
You’ve even tried squawking at the garden gnome

What you’re experiencing is menopause
Please realize that this is part of nature’s laws

One of our babes invited me to her nest
Where I will be treated as an honored guest

I would suggest you try finding a new spouse
One who doesn’t mind listening to you grouse

If need be, I’ll get a restraining order
I’ll take no more of your panic disorder

If you try stalking me, you’ll get a surprise
Such attempts might lead to your own demise

I am retiring and just want some peace now
The cat’s my friend, so beware of his meow




Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011