A few poems written by Chan Hurst, (Just That Archaic Poet)
I hope that we can find some comfort in them at this sad time.
"A Rational Explanation"
What must I do to see this through-
Unlock the world I never knew?
For all I've seen hath been untrue,
As all I've felt hath plagued me, too!
I am no more, past Deaths before
I've reached the end of Living War-
(to see through eyes both blind and closed)
A life to touch, but never know...
"Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep"
Every day, to God I pray
For answers to Life's enigmas
Patience lays in wait to stay-
To cleanse our Social Stigmas
We pass the time in our idle Dreams:
Like fallen stars in singing streams
"A Happy Ending"
Remorse and regret, I mustn't forget
Remind me that Life is a process of Learning
Indeed for I sorrow'd; 'twas always upset
As the Truth was met with painful discerning
But now my eyes are open-wide,
Grew to love what I once despised
I am no longer sick inside-
I just feel happy to be alive
"A Master's Approval"
No happier could I ever be,
(Or feel a joy's enormity!)
Than to know a Soul as Poe-
Would say he likes my poetry!
"The Poets I Hope to Meet in Heaven"
I pray that in my Eternity,
I'll meet Shelley, Poe and Emily
That we'll all sit down at a table round,
And at length discuss our Poetry!
And Longfellow, lest we forget
Lord Byron, Shakespeare, and beloved Keats!
If I prove their favorite Poet,
I could accomplish no greater feat!
For all my many silly musings,
This one I covet above the rest
For my Soul's toil- finally proving
That the Masters love me best!
"Heaven For A Poet" by Kelly Deschler
My own piece of heaven, a quiet little nook,
With only the finest parchment in a leather book,
A feather quill pen and an ocean of ink,
My thoughts would never stop to think,
Every single line I write would rhyme,
My poetry would be beautiful and sublime,
I'd be entertained daily, by Dr. Seuss,
And, put to bed nightly, by Mother Goose,
Lessons from Byron, Shelley, Coleridge and Poe,
Teaching me every single thing that they know.
My own piece of heaven, will have to wait,
Until one day, when I must meet my fate,
So, for now I will have to be content,
With my own words that may be heaven sent,
Inspiration from my idols is all I need,
Writing poetry in a notebook from Mead,
With this cheap, plastic Bic pen,
And a dream to be, just like them.
This poem was one of mine that Chan had faved, so I thought it would be appropriate to share this now and dedicate it to him.
I will always miss you, BP, my brother in poetry, but I sense that you are smiling down on us now.
I know that Chan idolized Edgar Allan Poe. I remember him telling me that someday,
he wanted to share a table in heaven with that "good ol' E.A. Poe".
So, Chan, if that is what you're doing now, I envy you, my friend!
And, you said that you would personally invite me to that little gathering, remember? :)
Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014
~Not Like Me~
When you were first put into my arms,
I begged God, to make you nothing like me
For my sins, ask for no transformation
This is my song, my meditation
Look at my face
Where has it gone,
You no longer desire to be part of my song
Look at my life,
The toll hasn't been paid
I'm the one suffering every day
The vengeance of eternal flames,
sit near the empty hearth
Burning my needs to hold you once more,
I need you more than you'll ever know
Now, Look at me, at the age of 73
I have nowhere to go
Everyone I know awaits in a place of gold
Unlike you, you're too busy, proud and bold
------ A different song!!!
I sing a song, that accentuate's the mind,
I have no one to blame, I neglected all the signs
Hoping the rain would slowly die off
Today here I lay, wondering where I went wrong
I implored God, to cause you nothing like me
I have a heart that forgives, and tries to forget
I kneel, and I give, and I treat others with respect
My compassion, I measured in the poorest way
I judged my life worse than the others did
Why did I ask ---- Not Like Me!
For my sins, ask for no translation
This is my song, my speculation
The dreaded conclusion of this song,
All I can say, "Be careful what you ask for."
In the end, all I can say, I got what I asked for
Someone, who's Not Like Me......................
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014
Gary, you are my little soldier boy,
who died on Veteran's Day. ('83)
My sunny, golden-haired soldier boy,
that I still miss in every way.
You had just turned 13,
getting interested in girls.
When CF took you from me,
my heart, like a flag, unfurled.
You fought CF with every breath.
For 13 years you tried.
And four lung collapses later,
after each one, I said,
"Son, you will survive."
Oh, how I lied!
Now, no more hugs and kisses,
No more birthday wishes,
I watched you go
and please God know,
Heaven, receive my treasure.
Author Note: This poem was written in memory of my son, Gary,
who died of Cystic Fibrosis at 13, in 1983. I honor my soldier who so valiantly
fought his fight on the battlefield of a life threatening lung disease, which fills the lungs with sticky mucus and makes it difficult to breathe. With all CF children,
they struggle with every breath they take just to breathe! My son eventually
started to have lung collapses. He had four before the last one took his young life on Veteran's Day weekend in 1983..(Read my poem "A rainbow Glitters")
I wouldn't be a poet today, if not for my son. He was diagnoses at age three.
As I sat by his hospital bed crying, I reached into my purse for a tissue, but
instead, I pulled out a pen. I thought to myself, "Ok, God, I get the message.
You want me to write and not cry." So I wrote my first poem that night, "Not
MY Son!" Which eventually got published in Elizabeth Kubler Ross' Book "On Children and Death." Later, I wrote humorous poems to entertain my son, who
was often to sick to go to school. And I'm still writing my poems today.
Copyright © Darlene Gifford | Year Posted 2014
Oh Avi, Avi
Sometimes, with my eyes closed
I see you dance
A dervish, whirling, like me
And I wished
Oh how I wished you would
pirouette into my arms
You would hold me
How I would hold you
But my arms and yours
caught girls, alluring and delicate
Oh Avi, Avi
When you laughed
My stomach turned
And multi-coloured butterflies
And small flying kites
danced into the air
Occasionally you glanced at me
the way I did at you
I think you did
Oh Avi, Avi
We were so young
Just boys, small boys
Thinking about you still
makes my day smile
I wheel my chair
With light rhythmic movements
Dreaming about a time
Where I still had dreams
And you were in them
With our tights and muscular
Frames and our spunk
Avi, oh Avi.
March 7, 2017
© Darren White
Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017
When my final shadows cling on desperately
Where I fight formidable battles
to merely hold the light
I send you loving vibrations
and soul sustenance
Deep from the cathedral
of one heart to another
where today no choirs sing
nor symphonies play
Yet it is here where we meet
in spiritual solace
here to surrender
and exchange inestimable treasures
like unopened letters
Galaxies are stretched
over chronicles of shared history
Nebula birthing stars
will be exposed
in forth-coming conversations
bringing short-lived fulfillment to you
Hungry to feast
now will be the time
to approve your blood art vision
and with my own haunting surrender
as dappled shades ink stain your chest
I will reside with you and share, mesmerised
pens - by branding
as this will be your written reams to me
your artist's pallet or brushed canvas
no need for words
and yet creating
mysterious magical moments
Bitter-sweet the music
that dances taut guitar strings
but now blood approved
please go kick your heel up
return to your laughter
and ride on the breeze
for not all are lost
for I am with you always
to love, listen and comfort as one
with you in me and I in you
Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty | Year Posted 2013
clad in rags, he wanders on Wall Street
he is invisible to hustling stock brokers
he is a man with no money, no property
a hapless struggler of excessive loan burdens
bitter winter winds blow across Broadway
he is invisible to affluent theatre-goers wearing warm winter coats
he is a man who watches them scurry past the cardboard box that is his bed
like a rain-dog, huddling in the shadows of alleys and doorways
he hears deafening explosions of New Year fireworks
he is invisible to the revellers
he is a man who cowers, recalling gunfire of a war he fought
echoing through his mind in restless nights
the incessant thumping of traumatic stress
he is invisible...a victim of post-Vietnam, Afghanistan and Iraq
who once bore a uniform and served his country with pride
he is invisible suffering alone, paying the price
through severe disabilities and permanent scars
with sadness, he watches voters going to the polls
he is invisible, a veteran with no voice in elections
he is a man who cannot vote without an “address”
a placard on a pavement might catch the eye
unemployed, homeless, unseen
but most of all forgotten
he is a man who seems invisible
but he is still a man
This is co-written by Paul Callus & Carolyn Devonshire
in remembrance of our war veterans.
Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2014
This year we will remember
Happier times in past months of December
This year we will certainly see
A massive void where you used to be
This year we will sit and stare
At that forlorn and empty chair
This year we will sit and reminisce
You are not here for us to hug and kiss
This year we will definitely see
No gift for you under the Christmas tree
This year we will shed a tear
For dad as you are no longer here
This year we will raise a toast
To our dad who we loved the most
This year will be so difficult for us all
It was the year the Lord did my father call
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015
There was a time when I was young
To share an era that begun
From music to the fashion trend
TV shows and history
Fads and other mysteries
I saw them all as time moved on
From classic pop to rock and roll
Bill Haley and the Elvis craze
And four years in my Air Force phase
But Jitterbug still hung around
The big bands had that unique sound
Time moved on to start the clock
Fellini, Bergman made the mien
And Japan added to the pie
To film The Seven Samurai
Brando, Newman and James Dean
newly captured on the screen
Television's Golden Age
All the programs set the stage
For Gunsmoke and the Twilight Zone
I love Lucy, I married Joan
TV tubes were changed a lot
Wrestling shows were really hot
Mantle, Mays and Robinson
Took baseball to another rung
The coonskin cap and hula hoop
Duck tail hair and snapper soup
I wore one with a thick pomade
And ate the soup that Momma made
My fashion sense left much to judge
As if I had good taste for fudge
Pegged pants with a six inch rise
Ladys skirts were different then
Lengths that came down to their shins
Three inch higher was a sin
Still dirty minds existed then
In Belgium back in 58
I saw an exhibit on that date
The Sputnik with a cute stray dog
was launched so high up in the air
Before the U.S. could get there
Then the race to conquer space
McCarthy hearings, lives destroyed
The Cold War was our only plight
The Commies kept their nukes in check
And Castro entered on the scene
There were no hot wars left to fight
Days still continued as well as night
I share a new millennium
But today the future's not so bright
No more long hand, the laptop's here
Facebook and Twitter have conquered our sphere
The death knell has tolled for how life was then
Rekindle your past and live again
Ralph Sergi February 19, 2015
Decades by Kelly Deschler
Copyright © Ralph Sergi | 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 was a glimpse in the mirror today
Of the girl I used to know
That face so young and youthful
But that girl, she decided to go
Where did she run away to?
Some land to be wild and free?
If I let her keep traveling on this path,
Well, what will become of me?
I saw her face in my older reflection
The sad smile that she's worn for years
itching to come out just one more day
As an alternative to silent tears
Where did she run away to?
And who did she think she could be?
Who knew that this worldly freedom
Would leave me so far from being free
Copyright © Juli- Michelle | Year Posted 2017
America the Free ~ America the Brave ~
Freedom with price Capitalism attacked
the many taken hearts broken still
one World try to rebuild
sadness and tears fall hard with fears
guilt by association many accused still
souls evaporated shattered dreams
tears fall on innocence left with anger
The proud fearless knew the inevitable
policeman fireman many lives lost
grieving does not stop 12 years later
New York city once proud & shameless
refusing to let fears in protecting ours
left in shock still question's unanswered
nothing learned nothing gained
ready to attack many left behind
anger greets denial anger meets rage
unacceptable still refusing new love
wanting days to rewind let us go back in time
acceptance allowing the victims leave in peace
the brave taken young leaving us sadly old
haunting dreams lost spirits dwell
no answers to hate never forgetting that day
Evil entered suddenly unforgiving fate
entering our City we stand with the fallen
How to fix how do we Change
This can be read many different ways ~ This is a poem I am so proud to write ~
Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013
When I think back...
I see your eyes on me across the room,
The way your lips slowly curve into a happy smile,
Your strong arms holding a child,
And I think back...
Do you remember being the "Big Man" on campus back then?
Or the easy ways of the women you've held?
The loving hearts that you've shuttered and broke?
And I think back...
Do you remember those secret games we once played?
Or the silent pleas to the Lord that you've made?
The loving family you've had and destroyed?
And I think back...
And I think back to the way things are and smile,
And I think back to the way you were and I know,
And I think back to the man you've become and I love you,
And I thank back...then I thank God.
Copyright © Alina Councilman | Year Posted 2014
November 11th is Remembrance Day in Canada
When I was in grade 7 or 8 (I don't exactly remember) we had
to write poetry for a Remembrance Day contest. I won and had to read this in front of our whole grammar school. I must of been 12 or 13. This was my first real poem!
I dedicate this here today to all the soldiers who fight or have fought for our rights and freedom.
In Flanders Field with poppies red,
there lies the secret of the dead.
Those blood coloured poppies
so red and so gay,
bring the whispering sound
of Remembrance Day.
Those true earnest men
who fought for their land,
now lay beneath the musky cool sand.
Alert and ready at dangers call,
prepared to fight they would not stall,
but march right on,
now some there lay,
In Flanders Field,
with poppies gay.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014
I'm sure this hill is where it stood.
Amazing shapes of stuccoed wood.
A glass-brick, neon stream-lined place.
As if it flew from outer space,
A swing band auditorium,
An Art Deco emporium,
When romance, innocent in pace,
From dancing to a teasing chase.
The town grew west in modern haste
And down it came, without a trace.
The war and culture's change in taste,
Predestined doom, the past erased.
The future sighs, with solemn face
The wrecking ball, the glittered waste
No plaque to read "Historic Sight".
The swirling dust, a dance goodnight.
Copyright © Gene Bourne | Year Posted 2014
On a day
when words of wonder fail to come
to describe the beauty in what I see
when I am simply overcome
and my quill is kept still;
I will remember you -
that you believed in me
and were kind enough to express
that belief in such a beautiful way.
At a time
when the right words would not come
to give voice to a moment, a feeling
when uncertainty knocks
at the door of my heart;
I will remember you -
that you had faith in me
and were generous to provide
the warm wind for my soaring flight.
know of my sincerity
when I want to simply tell you
the words that won’t be kept inside.
From the warmth of my heart
to the purity of yours;
Poem of the Day - June 06, 2015
Kim Patrice Nunez
June 04, 2015
Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2015
When Winter comes, remember me
beside you on lush ivory sand.
If icy fingers beckon thee,
arise and brush aside her hand.
As you awake on shortening days,
when Winter comes, remember me.
Then frost just may forsake her grays
and set hushed rays of color free.
Light snow may fall so subtly,
pale notes on parchment sheer as sleet,
when Winter comes. Remember me
and I shall play each shivering sheet.
July's abundant harvest gone,
I'm owed no Summer memory
but hope you will, from this day on,
when Winter comes, remember me....
Copyright © Lycia Harding | Year Posted 2015
The red white and blue
Not always right, but always true
Men of valor
Men of the draft
Men of the poor
Men who spilled their blood for country
Those who died
Those who lived
Those who live inside their nightmares
I humbly thank you
It is I who must walk in shame
That we did not play our role
Supporting our nations heroes
Supporting those who deserve the most
Now years later wisdoms become the truth
As Vietcong and War Vets, hold hands
Drinking tea and sharing peace
Ask any soldier, for what value he would fight the most
He will tell you very clearly
I will fight, to end all wars
He who has fought
Knows that the battlefield leaves no winner
Only orphans to roam the streets
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015
Does the past really matter?
Does it set you free?
I’m absorbed in the sin,
That is surrounding him and me.
Lost in the curiosity,
Cold to the touch.
Drenched in the poison,
With my dignity in his clutch.
Feeling like I was cheated;
I chose the evil instead of light.
I traded in the sunshine,
For what lurks in the night.
I disobeyed his orders,
I gave up security to be unsure.
I went against the warnings,
Gave into darkness instead of remaining pure.
Once my bed was made of soft grass,
But now it is made of stone.
Was plump from all of the luscious fruit,
Now I’m starving to the bone.
My curse is one of circumstance.
The punishment a crime,
I’m stuck inside this dampened cave,
For the rest of time.
My world came crashing down,
The grief has not subsided.
My heart broke completely,
When my sons collided.
My misery a token,
From the abandonment I earned.
Upon the time spent in sorrow,
There was a lesson to be learned.
Have I found the moral?
Only in time we shall see,
For all I did was eat an apple-
From the Knowledge tree.
Copyright © Alyssa Waters | Year Posted 2013
On day full of doom and gloom
With no strength to leave my room
With no hope to look towards light
With darkness closing in at night
When my heart floods with despair
Burdened by my load of care
When the rose has but a thorn
Wishing I were never born
When no effort is worthwhile
On my face no trace of smile
When my heart does naught but weep
For a love I cannot keep
A kingdom in which I reign
Where I banish grief and pain
A kingdom where all is light
With rolling hills, verdant, bright
I smile, for I am a Queen
Only beauty can be seen
Fairies flutter to and fro
Peace and joy is all I know
I tremble with sheer delight
My crown glows with heaven’s light
I am loved, and I am free
For a QUEEN resides in me
Eileen Manassian Ghali
A poem dedicated to my friend, FLO Thomas, for her poem, The Kingdom of Ghali. I’m hiding away in my room, but the visit to this poem again, to this magical kingdom, brought a ray of light shining in. Love you, Flo! OXOXOXOXO I tease my family and friends that...I'm really a princess. I tell them, "Haven't you gotten that memo?" They all just laugh at me. Now...I have a wonderful comeback. "You won't even see the PRINCESS in me...on Poetry SOUP...I'm a QUEEN!!!!" Oh...the joy of virtual dreams!
Kindness goes a LONG LONG WAY!!!
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2013
Step by step and side by side
In harmony like moon and tide
We walk together hand in hand
On sensually soft golden sand
Ocean blue sprays her fine mist
Memories of where we first kissed
Stretching far as the eye can see
Our footsteps follow you and me
Time and tides they pass us by
Oh how the days and years fly
Good times, bad times pass our way
Let’s cherish every single precious day
21st April 2015
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015
The rushing wonts of action render these happenings unmovable,
These feelings, passionately felt, to dull words ill and strained
She clings, my koala, with chocolate eyes pining for my green
Though each time she lets me go, she leaves me docile and pained
Once before I claimed her; yes, she did not turn away from me
But instead gazed on how the breeze could sway my branches
I wanted my bark to secrete the sweetest tears,
So she would know how eternally I yearn for her glances
For it is she alone, who can consume and digest my poisons
It is she alone—besides the sun—who gives me reason to stand erect
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2015
My ashes will be scattered in the garden of remembrance
A place that to me will have no relevance
For I will be gone, my spirit departed this life
So it won’t matter, it won’t cause me strife
I could ask to be scattered in Scarborough in the North Sea
Where my ashes could float on endlessly
Or they could be scattered in my Wrockwardine home
Where the wind would be free to make them roam
For those who I leave behind, memories they’ll have of me
Smiling and joking that’s how it will be
They can remember me as a Scarborough or Wrockwardine lad
As long as there thoughts are happy not sad
When my life is over and you all gather round
I hope you will wear colourful clothes and make lots of sound
I beg you not to be miserable or downhearted that day
Celebrate my life have a drink and just say
All the things that you think of me it can do me no harm
Have a hell raising party forget being calm
Sing karaoke and dance till you drop
Let the party go on let it never stop
Let the memories I leave you sustain you through the years
Whenever you think of me try a smile hold the tears
For maybe one day our souls will meet again
I’ll be there to greet you and drive you insane
For as in life so I will be in death to
Someone who will make you smile that’s what I’ll do
I will still be the Scarborough or Wrockwardine lad
For those who don’t like it well that’s just too bad
Copyright © Owen Yeates | Year Posted 2013
You can simply lay me there in shade of trees
that slowly breeze their umbrage with the
ephemeral sun, a caress with tenderness across this
You can leave me here, where fragrance of freshly
rained grass will wash over us with the warmth
you used to bathe and sprinkle subsequently
You can lay me here and sit, watching
clouds move with grace of swans, or ponderous
nobility of elephants, blocking the sun with their
And when you go, you will shed some tears, love
in your heart and remembrance of all the words
we spoke, or never said, all the arms and legs and
You will remember, you will remember.
May 6, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017
filled of moments
garnished by sunshine
bright with cherished
Backwards Poem Contest
Sponsor: Laura Loo
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2016
Do not come looking for me in
small corners of our house
I am not there
The vast space we occupied
where laughter lived
I left behind
The still place in our bed
once radiating love
I sense its cold
Photoless frames, shattered glass
a myriad memories
I will forget
Do not try to find me in the yard
or in the snow of blossom
I once loved
Forget you ever knew the wrinkles
around my mouth and eyes
If you aim to memorize my face
know it will fade in time
I lost you
In any place you find me drifting
remember in your heart
I find you
May 28, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017