Best Editors Poems
I want to forget the headlines
Or stated by the news team
Another soldier shot dead
Makes me want to scream
The family must be distraught
With it blasted on the news
Do the news editors ever give a thought
Of how this is shattering to the nerves
I am not saying that we shouldn't know
But not in such a dramatic way
As though the government worries
About a single life so far away
The bodies are flown home
People line the streets in respect
Everytime a plane has landed
The people of Wootten Bassett*
I would like to forget these scenes
But if I let it happen
I wouldn't be any better
Than our government who allows
these girls and boys
To return home in a coffin
* Wootten Bassett. Is the small town and the route that the cars take from the plane to wherever they are heading.
Each and every coffin is given this respect no matter what time of day or night it arrives.
Wordsmith
dour, drab embellished
don't recite read out loud
stop for a pause never stop writing
be difficult, obscure be clear express self
ignore other poets read many good poems
procrastinate, delay expedite, keep on track
wait till words come search for words till done
writing is a task, adopted writing is a pleasure, a calling
never be intiminated by editors believe in yourself and your abilities
write when you have opportunity write to a schedule in planned sessions
There was once a man.
He’d always wanted to write,
But his biggest failing was
That he wasn’t very bright.
Whenever he started
On a story or a plot,
Before he could pen it
He simply forgot
What he had thought earlier
And he wasn’t very wise
So all he wanted was that
The end be a surprise.
And he made up plots and tales
Funny, sad and intense
But in the end he found that
None of them made any sense
For follow as he might all grammar
He could never be concise
And what is more, the ending
Was never a surprise.
Yet he cherished dreams
Of becoming famous and great
Of writing beautiful stories
Of defying his impending fate
But, for all his boldness
He could never roll the dice
And his stories never ended
In a nail-biting surprise.
He told his tales to children
He tried them on every friend
But they never gasped at
The crucial part, the end.
He sent them off to editors
Of magazines of acclaim
But they all sent the stories back
Saying the ending was all the same.
He tried to write a book too
But in the middle he got stuck
And he wasn’t very clever
So he simply cursed his luck
Then finally he gave up
And wallowed in self-despair
He felt life was being hard on him
He felt it wasn’t fair.
Then one of his friends suggested
That if he really had to write
He needn’t just write stories
To prove his wit and might.
He could simply write a cookbook
Or an instruction manual too
Or a traveller’s guide to touring
A place like Timbuktu
Now the man wasn’t very brilliant
But he could recognise good advice
When he saw it, so he took it
Though he wasn’t very wise
And he wrote a self-help book on
Coping with writer’s block
It became a national bestseller
Every bookstore ran out of stock.
And he made pots of money
Because it was reprinted thrice
And he was always very glad
He took his friend’s advice
So now if you ask his opinion
He looks very condescending
And smiles, and says, “to write a book
Who needs a surprise ending?”
Countless lives have been rearranged
By the power of written words;
For the better many people change,
While the others from bad to worse.
Millions of books have been printed
By authors, editors, and publishers;
These precious pages are widely studied
By students, mentors and researchers.
There are books about ideology,
Religion, law, and critical thinking;
One page can twist man's philosophy,
Even a slave may turn into a king.
Computer wizards around the world
Introduce the wonders of internet;
Updated information they upload
May be copied and pasted to a booklet.
Grandmasters win the chess game,
For they scan every available strategy;
Triumphs toward fortune and fame
Inspire them to enhance their ability.
From college down to elementary,
Written words of wisdom cure schism;
From general psychology to history,
From physical science to journalism.
Books on music, marriage, counseling,
Bibliotherapy, short stories, poetry;
Superheroes, wars, engineering,
Medicine, sports, economics, IT.
But above these books is the Bible,
For God, our Father, is the Author;
The Scripture offers life eternal
From the one true God, our Creator.
~Authors And Writers~
( The Bell)
Authors
Love to write
Writers authors work hard
Glad when finish great book
Both just love to write
They work lots of hours
Final product is their most joyful
Reward
Writers
Work so hard
Go through strenuous process
Books can take long time
Lots of hours editing reviewing
Many changes are often made
Authors writers editors are a great
Team
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2016
March.04.2019
'Kindness is a language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.'
- Mark Twain-
~Author's Notes:
The "Bell" is a poetry style created by Dorian
Petersen Potter, aka ladydp2000, on September,18,2010.
LINES
We LINE up in traffic, or clear out the door,
And there are BEELINES we make, to the seashore.
Get mad and we're "DRAWING A LINE IN THE SAND,"
He USES A LINE when he asks for her hand.
You're in A LINE OF WORK, it's where you can shine:
LINEBACKERS, LINE EDITORS, and TECHIES ONLINE.
You're in the CHORUS of a big Broadway play,
Or dancing in LINES with the CORPS DE BALLET.
I'll "DROP YOU A LINE," when you're on vacation,
Get there by CRUISE LINE to your destination.
Fly on an AIRLINE, but you cannot fly straight,
In crossing a BORDERLINE, COASTLINE, or State.
In HEADLINES, OUTLINES, or given the GUIDELINES,
We calculate "READING BETWEEN ALL THOSE LINES."
DEADLINES and TIMELINES we must try to meet,
In interviews for FRONTLINE of the man on the street.
She is dressed to the nines, with the highest HEMLINE,
And her jeans are drying on a breezy CLOTHESLINE.
The kids throw their sneakers to the TELEPHONE LINES,
They're outside and swimming, their TAN LINES are signs.
CUT IN THE LINE, CROSS A LINE, this may give you trouble,
Especially the LINES that are yellow and double.
You don't want to FLATLINE, when you become very ill,
But you will, when you see LINES from your itemized bill.
There are the Maths that are used for LINES X, Y, and Z,
And a BASELINE to measure what we're trying to see.
We may draw PARALLEL LINES with our ruler in place,
These LINES actually meet when they curve out in space.
Then there's games with LIFELINES, we try not to burn,
There's LINES FROM A SCRIPT that we try hard to learn.
LINES READ in poetry, played in music, sung in song,
It's the memorized beauty of the gifts passed along.
Whatever THE LINE IS, that we find most adoring,
It's NOT keeping the order we find so abhorring.
We humans are LINEAR in most of our thinking,
It's the CIRCLES and CURVES that'll drive us to drinking.
By Edlynn Nau
© February 9, 2016
Do you walk around and wear Him as a vest and only reveal Him when the heat gets too much
Does His heartbeat, beat to the beat of yours
Is your blood infused with His and does it flow from within His veins
For when He hanged at Calvary He took part in the greatest blood transfusion ever heard off
Are you in Christ or is Christ in you?
Do you only use His name when it is suitable?
Trying to fit in with the crowd when in fact you should not conform to the standards of this world
Relying on your own unstable knowledge?
Formed from the opinions of editors of magazines, newspapers or news bulletin
Practically too afraid to refer to His word in case someone might miss-taken you for a bore
Does the term brethren only refer to you when you are confined by the four walls of your church building?
Cause the minute you step outside the gates you take salvation
Carry Him by the hand and hide Him away when you interact with your peers
Sneaking into clinics, thinking no one can recognize who you
Must applaud you, you’re a great actor
But be warned because the director in heaven has control to bring an end to the scene in which you’re acting
You see even The Pill couldn’t help
Masturbating with the idea of being saved
While Intersecting with your evil desires
Talk about gratification of the Flesh!!!
No concentrative can terminate the conception of sin
Which planet are you from
Venus, Jupiter or Mars
It doesn’t really matter for it was He who created all things under the heavens
Where have you ever seen the branch carrying the Vine?
If you are sitting down
With your mind entangled by this question
Distinguish this…
When you’re in Him, He takes your nakedness and shamefulness
And allows His glory to be the very covering
When you’re in Him, your flaws are eliminated because they are engrafted on the side in which He was pierced
For He is the very foundation of all things
When you’re in Him, He changes the very way in which you walk
Sometimes His wrath will have you limping back across the river just like Jacob – I mean Israel
Choose today in whom you will abide!
Are you in Christ or is Christ in you!!!
Camouflage
© Ben Burton 12-01-2014
A leopard cannot change his spots
Nor would he if he could
They offer him some camouflage
When lurking in the wood
Van Winkle would not leave his cot
For roughly twenty years
But what a lesson we were taught
Be careful with those beers
A period is but a dot
Yet, such a potent thing
For if some reason it is dropped
The words start jumble-ing
Some authors will not change their plot
Though editors insist
How many classics were not wrought
Merely because of this?
In Ferguson the people fought
Set fires and looted, too
The facts did not deter their cause
Contrived police abuse
Obama does not care for cops
He went on the attack
Implying Darren Wilson shot
Merely to kill a black
Oh well, the liberals are naught
(With those last words, they fled)
My spotted leopard trick, they bought
Elsewise, they'd not have read
~Authors And Writers~
( The Bell)
Authors
Love to write
Writers authors work hard
Glad when finish great book
Both just love to write
They work lots of hours
Final product is their most joyful
Reward
Writers
Work so hard
Go through strenuous process
Books can take long time
Lots of hours editing reviewing
Many changes are often made
Authors writers editors are a great
Team
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2016
June .05.2017
- “Kindness is a language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.”
- Mark Twain
~Author's Notes:
The "Bell" is a poetry form or style created by Dorian Petersen Potter, aka ladydp2000, on September.18.2010.
~Authors And Writers~
( The Bell)
Authors
Love to write
Writers authors work hard
Glad when finish great book
Both just love to write
They work lots of hours
Final product is their most joyful
Reward
Writers
Work so hard
Go through strenuous process
Books can take long time
Lots of hours editing reviewing
Many changes are often made
Authors writers editors are a great
Team
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2016
December.08.2016
~Author's Notes:
The "Bell" is a poetry style created by Dorian
Petersen Potter, aka ladydp2000, on September,18,2010.
Thank you for your recent submission
We have reviewed it and decided not
To include it our next issue.
Wish you luck in your future pursuits.
Thank you for your recent submission
The editors are also writers and have
Received numerous rejection notices
And don’t like sending them out.
Thank you for your recent submission
We will have to pass on your poems
Though you have impressive credentials
Wish you success in placing theme elsewhere.
Thank you for your recent submission
They do not meet our publishing needs
You harbor a very great love for writing
We appreciate the opportunity to review it.
Thank you for your recent submission
To consider our magazine as an outlet
For your creative work, but regret
To use this particular submission.
Thank you for your recent submission
Without your hard work the journal would
Be impossible. It’s not an easy task.
Thanks for sharing your writing with us.
+++
**Based on the real experiences in 1997-98
September 8, 2014
Form: Free verse
First Place Win
Contest: Rejection by Regina Riddle
THANK YOU FOR YOUR RECENT SUBMISSION
REVISED, RE-READ and RECONSIDERED it but REGRET
To decide not to include it in our issue next.
WISH YOU LUCK IN YOUR FUTURE PURSUITS
THANK YOU FOR YOUR RECENT SUBMISSION
The editors are also writers and they too
Receive WORTHY REJECTED poems of their own
AND DON’T LIKE SENDING THEM OUT
THANK YOU FOR YOUR RECENT SUBMISSION
We will have to pass on your poems
IN FACT INDEED IMPRESSIVE INPUTS you have
UNWILLINGLY WISH you success elsewhere.
THANK YOU FOR YOUR RECENT SUBMISSION
The poem is PRETTY UNFIT to our needs for publishing
HOWEVER HORBOR HIGH HOPE for writing
WE APPRECIATE THE OPPORTUNITY TO REVIEW IT.
THANK YOU FOR YOUR RECENT SUBMISSION
To consider our magazine as an outlet
WELL WRITTEN WORTHY WORK, but regret
TO USE THIS PARTICULAR SUBMISSION
====================================
(Oxymoron and Alliteration)
Seventh place winner in
Contest: FREE FOR ALL DO AS YOU PLEASE In honor of Charles Henderson
In the 1800‘s
Looking out from a window down through an old oak tree
At flowers and skies, cloudy grey or sparkling blue,
Walking through the waving green grasses of the yard.
Mistress of words with an interior so deep,
Two thousand poems in the old leather trunk
Until her death, gently packed away.
Only 7 were published while she lived,
All anonymously.
Never wife nor mother, rare for those times
Yet, nature, love and death, their images and understanding
She placed in a few perfect lines.
Hearing the larks’ songs, science and religion
Modern thoughts in poems sent and rejected.
The Atlantic Monthly was backward;
Their editors so wrong.
Now I can’t pretend I fully comprehend
Her interior expressed sometimes
Too weighty for me. But the depth of those
I comprehend adds to
My hope that a life constrained
Whether by health or times
Is still filled with possibilities.
And so she said
“ If I can stop one heart from breaking;
I shall not live in vain.”
Though a mystic and transcendent,
With her practical humorous side this ends
“Faith is a fine invention
For gentlemen who see;
But microscopes are prudent
In an emergency!"
This little Emily is my ode to thee.
Jared Pickett's The Ode Contest
Me
ACCEPTANCE SPEECH
I would like to thank all my readers and fans for supporting me and making this award I received so meaningful. I would like to thank PoetySoup and the poetic academy for all their accolades. I wish to thank my ex wives, my numerous children, and all the flowers I have planted over the years. I realize I am great, and I realize I am making poetry great again, and as much of a burden as this is for me to carry, I do so with honor. I wish to thank Pizza Hut and MacDonald's, as well as my personal friend the Kernel Saunders for the buckets of support he have given me.
I would love to thank my editors, my agent, my illustrators, my cleaning lady and also my very talented chef. Much deep appreciation also for my chauffeur and butler Keith. I am in gratitude also to my dentist for which without her talent of the mouth, I would not be smiling now. I would like to also thank all my village, and also the company that supplies all my cafe lattes, they filter so well, is so very much appreciated.
Finally, I must also thank my travel agent, my plumber and twelve stone masons for all their rock solid support.
God bless you all
They are on the verge of extinction
Now in reading them there is no fun
Electronic media rendered them redundant
Yellow journalism made them defunct
Like a beggar they hanker after ad
Their glamour of late has begun to fade
Editors now grope for thrilling news
And fill-up columns with their own views
Letters to the editor lack vigour
There is dearth of good articles
For contributors are meagre
There are no incentives for columnists
So they have begun to opt for tv superhits
Print media is virtually on oxygen
Even by its erstwhile fans it has been shun
Its news are dull and stale
And it survives solely on blackmail