**"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
Listen to poem:
I know you're not here
but you are in my heart
you are always with me
i'll just slip into you
with these words.
there are mountains
dwarf the cities below
peaks that stride above the heavens
attempt to graze the planets if even so lightly.
there is a special star that rises daily
against shades of air lit.
They tell me
there is a wide deep void that is grand - a canyon
not too far for any adventurer who dares to look down its throat.
Our world is tightly splattered in miraculous views.
I remember diving through the horizon
where on the other side
I found intricate scenes
I walked down a dock straight into an orange wine sunset
through to steps led to a bridge
walked across to an enchanted glitter covered road
to a winding path with a floating pink shaded fog
until I wandered into an explosion of nature.
I witnessed a mud escarpment
with splashes of burgundy, shades of maroon,
tones in burnt copper and chestnut browns.
I found a rare waterfall
rushing down into an inviting pool
a crystal clear deep blue lagoon unused
around it emerald spruces gathered in a cluster of trust.
All in all so alluring I willingly stripped bare and melted into
the refreshing fully chilled basin down to its coral bottom.
I was greeted by an array of tropical aquatic life.
Nude, free, happy
I swam in the simplicity of the moment.
Another time it was
a blinding white wavy desert floor
totally stripped for miles,
just one live growing plant
it looked like tall fanned out verdant fingers.
what a thin shadow it cast.
A bright blue scrim provided a contrast
framed for a photographer to snap.
Floats in white,
were frozen in place
and not a wire was evident,
just motionless etchings.
I sat on the burning sand
took a position and meditated.
rebounded off the thickness of the sultry atmosphere
I heard my own voice return to fill me.
I bathed in the simplicity of the moment.
I love this world
All its treasures
Not all of nature
Not the sun that lights the day
sprinkles the skin in its brilliant sheen
or the moon that with
its romantic smile
its alluring suggestions
seduces even the least romantic of us.
Not the miraculous
vegetation of every kind
or the moss laden beds where lovers have often laid as one
linked to one another - inspired by natures erotic whisper.
I would sacrifice all else,
just to breathe in your love
just to bathe in you.
You my passionate want.
Our love is my Mecca.
When I hold you softly in the strength of my arms.
Touching your face sends shivers through my consciousness,
holding your hand is like plugging into bliss,
watching your mouth,
the dent above your lips,
you know I overdose ecstatic
when mine touches yours.
I want to stay - mine on yours,
as we speak, as we dream.
How I love your smile your laugh.
I hold you in the enchantment of my mind.
I caress you in the secret chambers of my dreams.
I cherish your scent - infinite, singular, invigorating.
I roll with you in the autumn leaves of my imagination.
I wish you everything - for you are everything to me.
I would if I could
I would reach beyond my grasp to,
to pull Magic from my hat.
Squeeze a snowball into a skating rink
just to dance on water with you.
I will love you into our after life,
no man as fortunate as me.
They say reach for the stars
you may end up with the moon.
I got you,
No man as fortunate as me.
Let me make every step you take safe, secure, pillowy soft
try not to faint from the sheer fragrance of you.
Together we are sunset shadows,
shadows that will never fade.
Imprinted permanently on the iris
of the early evening sky light.
do you remember back when we just met
do you remember when it started to sleet
when we used the bark from trees
to toboggan down the circled path of the mountain
we hit the brakes
from the branches of a spruce
lit them like matches on kerosene
and i really think the smoke filled
travelled to our heads
even before the sleet turned to hail
we slipped under the lawn
spent hours and hours
covered in each other's silky embrace
and i confess i peered at every drop of you
treated my eyes to your
nothing but you
i held that moment
fragile as it was
with the greatest of care
and hold it still with the same reverence
and i really think nothing should feel
it just led us to lock lips
and you know i could of kissed you
passed through it
as if it were a fraction of a second
our hearts synced
and i really think that
melting into the air
playing like music
is what drove us mad
and i get very creative
when i go mad
the stuff "crazy good" is made of
it must of worked because
we finally reached the peak of our crescendo
laid in the sublime of one another
i must of loss consciousness
i still don't remember our rendezvous ending
but it must of
because i immediately
felt your absence
and i really think that's why
i wrote you
why i wrote
wanna slip under the lawn
and i really think that's why
why we've been
Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2015
When I lay me down to sleep,
And cry the tears that sinners weep;
To speak the words of a contrite prayer,
And know that someone listens there.
He cares for sheep that have gone astray,
Who willfully wander their own way;
They vex the pride that hides within,
And drink the bitter cup of sin.
The web of lies and dark deception,
Lie in defeat of Light’s conception;
To capture all and destroy life,
With passion’s fire and human strife
We need to plant the gospel vine,
Where evil rules and saints repine.
While martyrs lead with ransomed prayer,
With hope for life that tarries there.
Blood that was shed on Calvary,
Set slaves of transgression wholly free.
So we rise from the grave to seek reward,
Giving praise to our risen Lord.
Copyright © elizabeth wesley | Year Posted 2012
I Think Of You - Ground Zero (Part 1)
Leaving under a blood moon
in a jet plane rising
los angeles falls behind me
to the song of the spiders.
Latent sun rays fall on me like rain...I
...They say third time's the charm.
On planes again.
A sky...endless... and then finally
from the other end of the world to here.
A continent, an island,
an australian flower drunk on wine.
Her...uniqueness lends to her beauty.
A fourth night.
A church spire at sunset.
At a distance bats fill the sky,
resemble a smoke plume.
I plead the fifth.
It's all these moons.
Tonight a hunter's moon.
She's unable to hide
even with her bowl of clouds.
It's no help.
She has no spoon.
Her luminous rays give her up.
Moonshine in the moonlight over the sea.
six...on the beach.
A purple nightshade,
a sand flower,
Irish eyes speak uniquely to me.
you can't roll a seven with one die.
Back on a plane.
A snow fog blinding.
From my window seat a one of a kind view.
I eight...ate...need to eat.
A plant chloroform green
has holes like cheese.
A large swiss leaf.
I laugh and I...I distract myself.
A stitch in time beats nine.
Back in North America.
A dilapidated fortress stares down
an overwhelming thunderhead.
I camp out.
It requires a tenth...tent.
An Eagle never blinks.
No eye lids.
An unimpeded view.
...but I...I surrender.
There is no place in the world
I can escape.
i think of you.
You are living art.
What I perceive
is what I live.
I perceive us.
I can picture you.
I am photography,
the camera, the lens.
I absorb your image,
A form of plagiarism
I didn't borrow.
Inhaled you but
...i think of you.
March 11 2015
Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2015
With the turning of the green
the fevered hues engulf my soul
rich radiant reds glistening in the sun
as my heart gleams with memories
of the solemn words that fall from
your angelic lips.
The ornate orange and dynamic yellows
come to life
like those sparkling flecks dancing
inside your autumn eyes. Oh my heart
my heart, rest my heart.
Breathless the breeze blows a subtle scent
of sweets from the pink flowing Amaryllis.
Blow sweet breeze blow off into the night
and on your wings I plant my kiss. A loving kiss
filled with the finest fruits of my harvest like the
finest bottle of red served on the terrace overlooking
the Grande Canal in Venice under a moonlit sky.
Blow sweet breeze blow and onto her veranda swirl
swirl gently into her palatial palace and wrap my love
firmly upon her waiting cheek.
Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2016
COLORS for MOTHER,
Looking towards the blue sky
Every color camouflaged around the cloud
Tears of sadness began to dry
Watching all the colors display out loud
The dark needing to fade
The grey in my life finally made sense
Colors overlapping, forming a beautiful cascade
Shoulders of tense
I imagined your smile against the yellow sun
Giving light to all the matter of the things I've done
A warmness in my red heart-- together in the long run
Creating a new purple and pink sensation-- as one
My new rainbow doesn't come in black and white
Giving reason to follow the joy of light
A gift of colors remind me everything will be all right
A guide blazing throughout the night
Lavender plant blooming for the world to see
A garden of every color just for me
Everyday I see the sunrise, rising up in colors of glee
My Rainbow will appear everyday without rain, no matter how deep the sea
Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet, the perfect skin tan
My sweet angel your the largest spectrum where ever rainbows span
I wrote this poem for my mom.
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2011
“A Flowers Wilt”
Witness the small existence
that abides the beauty of-----------
Freelancers all around,
Just to get a good look.
A baneful abrasion, the flower took
It captivates you -------------
Reels you, steals from you,
Until you pick the right flawless touch.
Dandelions swaying thin,
Here we fall like petals.
Ready to exploit, the beauty of-------
Inhale the fragrance,
Courtyard azure eyes,
Embarking in a wishful eternity,
A crush they become, when loveliness up and left.
A bully against arrogant threw feminine perfumed veils
Tulips waiting for the better auspicious sky
Asters claim the eclipse's,
-dinginess censors it from the brilliance of the sun.
A lonely rose
In My Helix World-
The out-and-out are born.
Cries in the dimness,
A sweet Lotus echo
Slight yelps of agony carried off by pollen breeze.
The earth revolves to fast,
Injections of herbal essence in the wind
For a split second, we feel pixie dust
Channel the essential, it fades
Earlier beauty, calmness-
A flourish smile,
Rusk of flower, a bluebird’s bread.
Like candles and dew, they stream and limber energy
Opposing others of its humanity,
Against the command of its importance,
Pierced by its own elegance,
Thriving slowly of its own will,
A short story, gone astray!
Tonight, we plant a tree,
The Flower wilts
The gardener cries
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013
Fire catches fast, then sweeps through grass and trees.
The lion of the elements, it roars,
and burning hot, displays its awesome might.
Fire signs are one of four triplicities.
Bravely, like lions, those of fire will fight.
A fire-born person is one who adores
his life, and what he wants he’ll simply seize!
The element we need to breathe is air.
This carrier of currents none can see
is spaciousness surrounding everyone.
Those born of air may seem aloof! They’re where
they need to be; their thoughts float toward the sun.
They analyze and then effectively
communicate to us because they care.
Sweet water! Always we can see it flow.
It flows to sea; it ebbs, then flows again.
Without it, plants and animals would die.
Those born to water are the ones who show
emotions freely. Hear them laugh and cry!
They touch our souls and give us solace; then
entreat us. . . let imagination go!
Earth, the final element, is the land;
God put us here with feet on solid ground.
Sustaining us, it gives much that we need.
Those born of earth are stable, for they stand
for practicality. They plant the seed
of reasoning. Four elements abound.
When they’re in harmony, life can be grand!
Written Feb. 9, 2016
for the HUMAN NATURE - 4 STANZA, 7 LINE Poetry Contest
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016
It was magic beans you placed in my hand as we held
Ones you nurtured, embedded deep within your love
I know because it tormented me with euphoria planted
Stalked me earnestly with your charming advances
You know I climbed walls 'til next you stood at my side
When you occupied me and I began to grow, the eclipse
Was gigantic, extraordinary, a wanting wildness sublime
You were my mystical hen, the one who laid Golden Eggs
You made our home a majestic castle suited for royalty
It was magic beans you infused in my hand as we held
Made me spin searching for a long pole to slide down
Escape with you my loving wife from the Giant Ogre
Inside me, I who feared commitment, a long time alone
But now you are the only enchantress I need or crave
And when it is my turn to die, take with me to the grave
The feel of you deeply rooted beyond my meager frame
From the soil above my coffin will grow beyond the sky
The largest plant with leaves shaped in awe of our lives
Steps beyond the clouds you'll find me playing my harp
An angelic music and song that will herald our union
Speak of our story in fable for children's open ears
Adapted to capture their imaginations, inspire them
Lift a glass in cheer to magic beans entrenched in you
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A
Contest Name: Magic Beans
Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2015
I read the words of a poet
From the days of tomorrow
His verse flowed backwards in time
I, a fair maiden, doomed to a fate
Of obligations unseen
If only the book on my lap
Was not ahead of my youthful station on this earth
Verses seeping with promise
I long for the voice of this master of the pen
I day dream, and lose my place in this world of pain
To hear his softness in the blowing wind
Alas it must be the times he lives
No man can carry such passion
Inside a book within a book of dreams
Yet, here I am, to ponder
The romance of a tomorrow I shall never see
I am doomed to village laws and customs
A stoning that is so unjust
For I unveiled my eyes to the world before me
Staring into the depths of mans possessive hatred
I ran in fear, I ran towards the forest of hope
As they drag me by my feet
The book clutched close to my breast
Bloodied and in the moonlight, I open it
To find out, even in the future of majestic noble poets
There lies evil still
Stealing the breath of innocents and infants
I hope one day
I shall meet the author of these words
I may slap him across face for my silly fantasies
So long I dreamed the world would change as does the seasons
For better days filled with peace and kindness
I hope one day
I shall meet the author of these words
I may plant a sweet kiss upon his soft lips
Singing of songs he has long forgotten
I slowly wrap the rope around my neck
They will not stone me
They shall not claim any victory over me
The poets words, hidden deep between my legs
Shall melt within my soul
For better days filled with love and kindness
I shall kiss him sweetly in my death
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016
I walk along the old familiar path in the wood of my childhood -
the place that I willingly abandoned
for the lure of new friends and activities
that carried me ever farther from my simple carefree days.
Nothing here is quite the same,
and all that once was large to my child’s eyes
has grown small.
How can it be?
The houses on the fringe of this old wood
are the same houses we always came upon as children
as we ran - exuberant wild Indians of our enchanted forest -
away from our foes and into the safety of “clearings” -
those back yards of neighbors
whom we never really knew.
Our small legs ran so quickly down that well-worn long-ago path
in the days when we were soldiers hastening to secure our forts.
Other times we searched for treasures in the wood's crevices,
finding - one day - bed springs, metal pieces, and old mattresses
and converting them into contraptions for jumping.
I tread slowly, noticing how many spots along my way
are now overrun with weeds and tangled vines.
How did I ever not notice there were vines here at all?
They must have been well hidden off our path.
Perhaps a kindly neighbor kept the pathway clear of them
out of consideration for all us kids.
I cannot know. . . It was so long ago.
I glimpse the raspberry bushes we used to happily discover
each summer when fuzzy berries showed brightly red and plump.
And there’s old man Miller’s house, whose fence we used to climb
so we might quickly steal the juicy apples fallen from his tree.
Sadness tugs at my heart.
The tree has vanished, and in the place of old man Miller’s shed
now sits a swing set looking barely used.
I head toward the center of this miniature forest
recalling how it used to hold such grandness in my young imagination.
The pond where we used to skate in winter
has disappeared as well.
In its place is a broad high pile of dirt,
and at the north outer edge in the distance I can see
diverse machines used for excavation.
Maybe soon the wood will be cut down.
Though small, this place was once so wondrous!
I think back to our Christmas vacations,
looking for the perfect little hill to drag our sleds up-
and the thrill of barely missing trees as we slid back down.
Everything was magical, crisp and clean.
Suddenly I trip on tangled vines I’ve failed to see.
The vines are stumbling blocks that have blotted out
the utter charm this locale once held for me.
You’d think that being smaller to my grown-up eyes,
the wood would seem even simpler now.
But no, it’s lost the grace of my simple and easy childhood days;
It’s become a labyrinth of too lush plant life.
I think how - like my complicated life -
this old familiar place is decaying
and is overwhelmed with all these obnoxious vines
and how one day -
like the pond and Mr. Miller’s apple tree -
this dear wood
inspired by events of my childhood
and the contest of Constance la France
and now for Caleb Smith's In the Woods Poetry Contest
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2013
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
Everybody take a stand
Join the caravan of love
(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!”
Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2017
What goes up must come down.
No colors can define who you are.
You may own a cart or limousine.
We'll still reach the end when it is near.
I may be poor today and eat from trash.
Tomorrow, you can't tell. I'll earn some cash.
The bed where you lie is soft and wide.
I sleep at a sidewalk and the stars are my lamp.
You wake up each morn' with a feast on your table
While we are scavenging to fill stomachs when we're able.
Our destiny isn't written in the stars.
We work for a living to thrive in this life.
Be thankful every morning you witness the sun
And pray tonight that no one lives same as I.
Wheels come in full circle,rolling round and round.
Today you'll be on top,
I am watching from the ground.
Let us bear in our minds that we are better than birds.
Our loving Father ensures each mouth is fed.
Not even the smallest details can pass by His eyes.
So plant a seed of kindness and reap a better life.
*5th Place winner
Copyright © Aiyah de Torres | Year Posted 2014
Now this is my definition of love
It's much like wrestling in the mud
You get down and dirty
And say things quite flirty
Then it all comes together with a thud
You scream out bloody murder together
Promise your undying love forever
Roll over and whisper
The name of her sister
Then you realize that wasn't too clever
She pummels your head without any mercy
You attempt to defend 'gainst her fury
You start to see rainbows
And a bunch of pretty halos
A ferocious little dynamo this girlie
Well eventually you recover your senses
And are able to put up some defences
You plant a big smacker
On this sweet li'l attacker
Then it's back to love in the trenches
© Jack Ellison 2015
Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2015
- 2016 -
- JANUARY -
A freezing cold evening
Where the stars shining bright
With frost blade flanks
From mouth and nose steam
In the clear silence
White untrodden snows
Nature's frozen pulse
Sleep like a little baby
One gracious moon
After the night the light is shattered into gold
At sunrise raise your heartbeat
- FEBRUARY -
The ground is chained in frozen iron
Snow crystals glued on pine cones
Overhangs embroideries of polished ice
The wind shakes and shatters them into millions of pieces
Slowly more brightness toward longer days
A new light is born across a white landscape
With its beauty and bliss a squirrel in a pine tree
Thoughts and reflections how beautiful it is
- MARCH -
Kong winter resolve his power struggle to live a little longer
Cold soil protects wild modest tiny flowers
March deserve tribute by an dignified pen
A soothing voice whisper in dew wet morning sun
When Spring youthful glory revitalises
With blessed glow in brilliant charm
A soft mother breast for all to be born again
Nature pregnancies seeds of life
Spring unveiled with a colorful smile
We go brighter times ahead, wakes up from beauty sleep
Princess Spring I feel lucky and almighty
- APRIL -
Spring marks the end of winter and start of summer
It is lovely with colorful contrasts
Norway is a long country with a lot of mountains and valleys
Wide variations in climate from south to north and from east to west
Migrant's return, and the first flower is coltsfoot
Both humans and animals awakened by hibernation with new energy
The sun is high, no snow falls and the birds singing
Small downy mouse ears to be leaves on birch tree
- MAY -
May show us how beautiful you are
A Spirea blooms like a beautiful and white cloud in the garden
Beautiful spring bride
Dressed with creation she herself had designed
A golden ring of eternal happiness
The veil thin and beautiful like cobwebs kisses her cheek
May is the month with wonderful contrasts
As sure as the sun rises each morning
When I turn my face toward the warm sun
I feel it gives me new energy
Seventeenth of May is Norway's National Day
We lift up the flag in red, white and blue
The sky is blue, as far as the eye can see
A celebration of sun, spring, life and eternal love
- JUNE -
The sun constantly light flickers through the air and brighten up long nights
The summer carnations were Gods flower for the Greeks
They bloom earlier than most other species
A delight to the eye throughout the summer
Midsummer night - Midsummer Celebration 23rd and 24th June
A dear child has many names it is said,
and Midsummer night is no exception
Across Norway celebrated it with large fires
Some placed a rag doll on top of the fire
The witches burnt this night
Dance, music, porridge and flower garlands with carnations
Barbeque, Norwegian strawberries and fireworks all night
If a young girl picks seven or nine various mode herbs that night,
and put them under the pillow, she would dream of her future husband
- JULY -
No doubt that July is a beautiful summer month
It is the year's best month is named after Julius Caesar himself
Summer raindrops pierced by sunbeams
Just think of how precious privilege it is to wake up to bird song
Columbines are still in full bloom, they are charming
Spices herbs for diversity and for flavor
Who would have anything against sitting in the garden all day
and let you tickle a bit of a grape plant in the neck
Flowers and plants are an important part of summer
Enjoy it all with family and good friends
Fair weather clouds that just gives a little variety in all the blue
July is synonymous with holidays for most
The temperature and enthusiasm rises
This summer we will swim in the ocean and eat lots of ice cream
- AUGUST -
Our receptive hearts have allready heard
The breeze reports August
The shadows fall when the day is done
Roving winds and rain are waiting
For every day that passes, the autumn is preparing
Goodbye butterfly, wondering where your journey ends
When that day comes, I will kiss you softly
The painting will change color and give the landscape a blush
We always seek, and new jewels will be found
It hurts to say it, but the summer has an end
- SEPTEMBER -
Let autumn wind whisper its song
Summer sunshine rays from yesterday we remember
After a long and lovely summer,
it often feels like autumn kept going cold and gray
But the truth is that this is one of the most colorful month
Now comes the polar night and the storm's time is near
We celebrated Thanksgiving in connection with the harvest
Autumn is yellow, red and orange
This is perhaps the finest with the autumn
Take a hike and you will see how beautiful it is out there
- OCTOBER -
The life light shimmers in the air
Love and delights
Death and pain
Drowsy in numbness
The leaves have never known
Embalmed darkness with grief
Cold winter is coming soon
Silver bells and white snow
Stardust, northern lights and moonlight
While wonder and guesses
- NOVEMBER -
Daylight change, and go to its winter rest
Night frost drips from the eaves
A cold wind rushed and shoveled his way
Caught your lungs with clear icy air
In this deep cold, it feels just right
Leave the door open to be a part of the season
Human rhythms always searching
The lunar takes its own bath in silver dust
November night will show you: The Milky Way
Keep your senses and soul awake, and enjoy it
- DECEMBER -
Some say they can smell the spring
... Is it possible to smell December?
A scent of something can hit you
anytime and anywhere
The frost sneak up on the night
and color the landscape white
Northern Lights with its spectacular light
dancing in the sky
Beautiful music, has no borders
Creating a sense of meaning
So stop fighting against wind turbines
December is the month for reflection
Joy and peace ~ when darkness falls
"A child is born in Bethlehem"
... ... Au Revoir ... ... Goodbye ... ... Adjø
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2016
I need more lives for me to live
In this universe of beauty;
I plan more days to find new ways
Of doing freedom's duty.
I need not more joy than this
For I am life's dear lover;
And when I wage to turn the page
I'd never want another.
The glorious pledge of sunny Spring
With sweet June coming after;
Bring autumn sighs and summers cries
Lost in winter's laughter.
With virgin moons and scorching noon’s
And stars of a thousand nights;
I'd need no heaven if love be given
With all its sweet delights.
There are many splendors for the eye
And such music for the ear;
The mind would reel with all to feel
And see to touch and hear.
There's many ways to spend the days
And more to do what's kind;
For bread now cast on waters past
Returns again I find.
There are such gifted souls to know
And many more to learn;
While a promise rests in earth's warm breast
And unknown stars still burn.
In six days God made all the earth
The bible is known to say;
Six lives I need to plant a seed
Of love with one for each dear day.
But sad if love should fly away
Or hide his face from me;
Six lives aren’t much if I had such
But one’s all that need be.
With unhappy May and sorry June
Sad dawns and weary night;
A sorry world through space was hurled
When love had lost her light.
Copyright © elizabeth wesley | Year Posted 2011
I had waited for you seemingly forever
So long did it take before you were to come into my life
But in so many ways you had always been there
Your hair so white more than once people
Said that you glowed
Your eyes blue gray
Soft but piercing.
In the spring we’d plant flowers and you quite the digger
Would never tire of ‘replanting’ oh the control God blessed
Me with that summer
On the porch we would swing and sing until my throat would be sore
And still Id manage one more
Lavender Blue, You Are My Sunshine, Red River Valley
I can still hear the wee small voice
In the summer under the big maple the front walk
Would flood and we’d run back and forth barefooted and splashing
Your face, pure joy, your eyes animated, your smile so wide
And those cheeks I could tweak them right now
Is there any better sound than giggles and splashes
Autumn we would take long walks and picnics down in the woods
And sit on a fallen tree. We’d find ants and worms and spiders and rescue the most
Precious of treasures. Feathers, milkweed fuzz, acorns, so much
Bounty for the taking. We’d bring them home and glue them
On paper or cardboard or make touch books
Winter oh please let’s have snow for winter. Snowmen
And snow forts, snow balls and mmmm snow cream.
I remember the look on your face at your first bite as
If you had just made magic.
We read books by the fire, books and more books
Then you would touch my lips and ask me to
Read one with my mouth, which meant to make
Up one just for you.
You have been blessed with intelligence
You have an uncanny ability to fix things
You’ve never seen before
Your sense of humor can put me away
Until I beg you to stop
You have a sense of logic beyond your years
You will sit on the floor for hours and build block towers for babies
Most importantly my son
You have been blessed for an unquenchable thirst for God’s own heart
At eighteen our time together will be changing but sitting here
I remember the words from a book we used to sing to each other
“I’ll love you forever
I’ll like you for always
As long as I’m living
My baby you’ll be"
Copyright © Laurie Ginn | Year Posted 2009
Before my flowing, poetic pen is hushed in Quietus,
And I have reached my journey's end with folded hands;
Departed into my dreamless sleep beneath violets,
Let me write one everlasting, eternal, immortal verse;
Of the ravaged garden of my life.
I want to hear a bird song when I quietly glide away,
With a sigh, I will lay my pale form down peacefully;
I have willed my Keepsakes and my musing poems,
The Angel of death, will take my hand into another realm;
And the drums of time will cease.
Oh, it has been a life full of happiness entwined with sad,
I have travelled many different roads to get to Tranquillity;
The chapters of my life are full of the dead and undead,
Memories of childhood, family, friends and pets I loved;
The scars of life stab my soul.
I do not fear death and I am ready to go through the gate,
But I will miss nature, the woods and the waters moving;
And as I walk the silent passage alone to my eternal night,
Think of me as being set free and soaring high up above;
I lived a life weather-stained with tears.
Leaving life is something we all must do; it is written,
I was held by a thread in this earthly realm until that last gasp;
Now, all I know is the peacefulness of a leafy tree above,
Drifting blue clouds and rain falling gently on my resting place;
I was a shadow on the wall of time.
Do not weep over my eternal grave heartbroken my dears,
I have followed the beautiful Angels footsteps to heaven;
My poetry is timeless, ageless, and will always remain,
I have shed this earth bound life and I am a butterfly set free;
I drank from the deep blue cup of life.
So come, dear hearts and plant some pretty flowers in Spring,
I am at last united with all my beloved who have gone before;
Touch my name and remember me for my beauty,
And although my life was but a whisper, I loved every moment;
Now, I exist in another realm.
August 26, 2015
Submitted to the Premiere Contest Number Five
Sponsor, A Skat
Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2015
Loving is to through a pebble into the sea
and the ripple become a wave
to plant a seed
and it become a tree
to cook a meal
and it become a feast
to build a house
and it become a home
to shine a light
and it become a beacon
to speak a name
and it impart trust
to see what lies benieth
what is seen on the surface
to hear the secrets
of the heart being told
to touch and give
comfort to a human being
to feel empathy instead
of sympathy in time of need
to let love be measured
by decades and deeds
where words are the least
of expressions of these
but summerize the tears, fears
and tongue of our God
a relationship with both
mate and Diety we laud
with works and prayers
love is more than words
it is the path we trod
love is a blanket
covered to keep warm
love is a needle
sewing socks while a fire burns
love is waking
before the break of dawn
love is baking and taking out
before it burns
love is a love note
during the day
love is thought
finding words to say
love is sometimes saying
"You can have it your way"
and love is duality in saying
"Lord give US this day"
where hell and high water
have no say
a sacred trust
in giving time away
love is forgiving all that
love is not giving
that which belongs
the only place to find this love
it is the place we call heaven
up high above
Copyright © john loving iii | Year Posted 2010
One dark night a saucer crashed;
the military quickly cleaned up the trash.
In the distance, what they didn’t see;
a thin, white face between the trees.
Once all was quiet, little Gili-ok crept,
from the woods where he had slept.
The rising sun, he felt was great,
but without his transport, he’d met his fate.
A distant farmhouse, he drew near;
he’d find food there; the scent was clear.
To the doorway he did head;
but he was overcome by sudden dread.
Standing just inside the door,
a human creature loudly warned…
“Come no closer, you little freak,
or I’ll put a bullet, a’tween yer teeth”.
Gili-ok stopped dead in his tracks;
he thought about just turning back,
But reading farmer Jones’s mind;
he beamed his message, oh so fine.
“I come in peace, my human friend;
I only want my wounds to mend”.
Old farmer Jones, lowered his gun;
He said, “I see that you are wounded, son.”
Into the house, Gili-ok walked and
they ate breakfast, as he talked.
Old farmer Jones, then smiled and said,
“It’s a wonder, you ain’t dead!”
Guli-ok was soon patched up and
graciously, he fixed old Jones’s truck.
One finger touched the clunker’s hood;
the old sparks fired and that thing, ran good!
“Say, yer a fine repairman son
and I could use a hand on this farm.
Would’ya stay a’spell; help me plant seed?
I’ll give room, board and feed.”
Now Gili-ok knew he’d have to wait
for friends to rescue him from his fate.
Into the barn, he did go and
soon the tractor…out it rolled.
“I’ll be.” Said Farmer Jones, surprised;
he really couldn’t believe his eyes.
Little Gili-ok thrashed a ton of wheat;
he filled the silo, nice and neat.
The hogs and chickens were swiftly fed,
when Gili-ok simply turned his head.
Old Jones, he watched with shock and awe,
as hay bales levitated into the barn loft.
Week after week, Gili-ok did work,
fixing equipment and working the dirt.
The one year there, Gili-ok spent;
made farmer Jones, a rich old gent.
When Gili-ok’s pals finally arrived,
they gifted Jones’s truck with a new hyper-drive.
On his tractor, they added super-warp and
on his house, they zapped a porch.
As Gili-ok waved a sad goodbye,
Farmer Jones began to cry.
Into his head a message was beamed,
“You must forget all that you’ve seen”.
Never again did old Jones need
to struggle planting all his seeds.
His new warp tractor would miraculously plow
and seed his crops; how he was, “wow’d”!
A lesson Jones did learn from this;
to befriend aliens, can be bliss.
He was so happy that he didn’t shoot;
he gave Gili-ok a brand new pair of boots.
As Jones sat up watching the late, late show;
his HDTV began to glow.
It bleeped twice; the pixels morphed
and on the screen was Gili-ok, of course!
Gili-ok winked one oval eye and
Jones waved back, with a sigh;
happy that he’d gotten to know,
that skinny little, alien soul.
Copyright © M. L. Kiser | Year Posted 2017
Wash my heart and make it clean
Remove the grime from where it's been
Take my idle hands make them yours
Use them to open holy doors
My cracked lips long to sing your praise
Be my Mistro the rest of my days
Guide my calloused feet along your path
I wish to know Love and not your wrath
Take my arms place them around the poor
Help me realize I need less not more
Plant your precious thoughts in my mind
Change me from selfish, make me kind
let me see your face with my eyes
Remove my ignorance make me wise
Apart from you I cannot be whole
Thank's for this reconditioned soul
One day my life will end, I know it's true
Please give me wings, so I can fly to you
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2013
A flagrant man is Robert Brown, a swine;
his eyes glow red like ember coals of fire.
Will fate be kind or bring him bitter brine
and will his soul the evil one require?
Did in pretense he seek to prove desire
and rise to plant a kiss upon her lips?
He sliced her neck and watched his wife expire,
as blood streamed down and dripped from fingertips.
Yet rumor spread as neighbors came to grips
with horror of a murder in their town,
and newsmen raced to pen details in scripts
while lawmen flocked to chase the villain down.
I held my mother in my arms and cried;
her eyes met mine in sorrow as she died.
Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014
Floating across rivers, valleys, and streams
I'm thinking of living inside of your dreams
Run barefoot through nature, you chasing me
End up tripping and falling in love by the sea
We're two eagles that fly, soaring high in the sky
Let the wind take our bodies, as life passes on by
You're a delicate flower, I'm a young honey bee
Sucking your nectar and starting a new family tree
Sliding down rainbows after a warm springtime mist
Laughter and giggles when on your cheek I plant my kiss
Your dream will not end having me inside you
Our days will get brighter and our night times will too
Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2015
Where are you?
Caress my hair,
drift through my mind's eye...
Let your fingers dig deep,
unearth the day's toils, plant seeds
that give birth to joyful tendrils
Use these, weave me rivered reveries...
Stay by my side 'til Sun kisses my cheeks
Blanket me in your kaleidoscope warmth
let silken threads of dreams tickle me,
so smiles meet my lips as I sleep
Unravel my wrinkled mind,
smoothen it, breathe new life
with your magic touch
Let me feel you,
Date posted: April 25, 2011 6:40am
Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2011
There is not a poem that you fail to read
Or time that I’m away you don’t ask, “Why”?
There is not a time when you don’t plant a seed
Of joy into my heart when tears I cry
You’ve helped me to believe in what I give
Seen beauty in the silly lines I rhyme
You’ve helped me want a better life to live
And shown me Godly love time after time
You will not leave my writes without a thought
Oh what things need to change for smoother flow
A friendship true like yours cannot be bought
You’ve helped my heart to breathe, expand, and grow
A Guardian poet you have been to me
Accept my thanks and loyal constancy
Jade (Eileen to you, Richard Lamoureux)
This is my second poem by this title. Richard Lamoureux has been a constant friend, mentor, and guide. I so appreciate his integrity, honesty, and spirituality. He's encouraged me over the years I've been here.....to keep writing, to enter contests...and to believe in my self-worth, a precious gift. When I'm gone...he'll visit my older writes and leave a note. :) I've gained so much by reading his book- Dummy: Hurtful and Healing words which is so full of precious insights on the power of words to heal or destroy. Well I know this power. Well have I suffered because of it.
People come and go...It's good to know some are there for the long haul. Some are there simply because they care...nothing more...nothing less. Thanks, Richard.
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2015