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The Best Voice Poems

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Midnight Poet

Whisper's of October  

Whispers in this soup bowl
20 minutes after its muse explodes,
Daylight remains nothing more than a dream 
Warding off the howling sound in mid-September's stream
Casting a line about a ginger light,
  found in the depths of everything
Engaging from the sitting twilight, numb, tranquilized 
Exposing and expressing the emotions found within
An attic lost in the Ancient sky  ---awaits 

A poetic hand is formed ---reaching out
A hissing whisper out of the darkness, 
Listen-in,  the echoes of October are calling
A halo, that reconciles a mysterious monarch moon
A mono grip in which summons a mysterious voice
  of sweet serenity
Poets posting poems along the midnight page
Each poet can compose a poem and mimic free fallen verses,
One might  call it a creative craving curse,
Webmaster's whose words speak for themselves
Voiceless-
They feel, and spills the will of idolized ink,
Blind-handed, splitting day from night

Warm whispers, needing no food to consume
Migraines of ink, feeding the soul
Burning Pages, overused pens
They've forgotten the pretty flowers
Living like lions, who never comes out of their dens
Murmuring and devouring, the enigmas of the unknown 
Eyes behind a sieve, close tighter than before, 
They hide nothing-
A world created from every sky-scrape the wall
Wanting to belong, a trick -or- treat*er in disguise 
No friends, everything is pretend
These poets can’t be described, can't be believed
They are the best in what they do
For all you know this poet might be me, 
This poet might be you

9/3/14


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014


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Sheol

Dark Knight-tress 

Underneath 
This gown I feel nothing
Silk less feelings
The odor of intimate apparel lessens 
Vanity fare from any sun
Warrior of beauty
Where have you gone?
A fortress of gloom
Not even death wants in
Black nail tips
Brownish plum lips

I close my eyes 
I see them all
The Shadows
Climbing over my soul
The darken deepens 
The stars dim my view
Irremovable makeup
Land becomes an enemy
I become
The Dark Knight-tress
Scolding my next victim

~S~


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2013


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The Age of Poet Destroyer

A diamond in the Frost ... I am Emily, gazing through the years, 
Like Poe from rancid taste and dark smoke shadows
Florescent waste escaping a decrepit yet dulcet wilderness
Backward capabilities frontal verse, I am her the almighty universe 

Ascending from yesterday's fall, literally and visibly
Swore to be everything you loathe most - a felicity of illusions
You will dream of me, a parasite you can't get rid of
Ripped open by paper and pen, rising to a new destination
A Destroyer begging to be free in search of a tender rhapsody
Blind by mediocre poets who tend a false nebulous star
No longer, will I impart into defeat - give in to trophy trust
The time of age, my allies whom I call my friends 
You are more than words on any God-Given-Day

To those unworthy of me, can march away from my parade 
Crying wolves, backstabbing clones, long gone stones
Each file is forgiven & forgotten, however, still trespassing 
Under a microscope, some remain to be a decade of lost words 
Grazing a forest grown for old news dripping water on my belly

No matter, after starvation, I found my way back to the same horizon
Finding time and space among a new docile nation
A buried treasure finding face among a fresh myriad generation
With anchors up, I'm headed full force, against every secret endorsed

I am the one you should not fear, I relish this wonderful community
I am she mounted above all years worn rising like a newborn sword 
Forged by the earth summon by the pirate's moon political creed
Ascending to a sweet ascension with the best kind of immunity
With paper and pen, I sit to please and prosper my poetry need
To you I leave --- Echoes of snow, numbing you with a poetic soul 

Love The Poet Destroyer


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015


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MONSTER

    MONSTER

Shackles nor chains, can't change what it is.....
Never was it, the one hiding under the bed, 
It was me, tired of it getting inside my head
.... I can still feel, the groping at my feet,
Pulling me from under the sheet,
A victim to your personality 
Nothing can, uninstall these walls
--- Walls of bricks, that can't be taken down

On the night, I've learned of your return 
My bones began to shiver, as they too shudder,
   remembering every black tinge feeling left behind. 
Before the bricks, your filth put my innocence into your victim's box
Without a voice, I fell with no one to rescue me...
Sometimes, I wondered who else had to look into its heinous eyes
Nights without security, you crept in' with every morning cry
With nowhere to hide, I found myself constantly victimized.  

Nefarious, at my bedside, how did I manage to survive?
Unwanted communication, stole my youthfulness away,  
So young, yet persistent diabolical stories hide inside
Bones turned into a tomb of stones
Decayed and withered years, never to be unveiled
Some stain will never wear off or be forgotten
The monster, I once helped shut down,
Soon to return on another bedside,
Now, someone else will close their eyes, 
   And hear the monster's whisper, "Shh, don't tell, or else!"

And just to think for a moment I felt safe,  the air felt different
Now, I feel dirty all over again, 
No one can fix or put the ease back to sleep.....
Just as long as it still LIVES'

 *** 


#Monsters Living in Our Society 
#Let's take them down one by one


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2018


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VOICE IN HIDING



Hiding here inside my closet, I feel safe in the dark knowing on a pile of sheets lies my very psyche; it's only a thought, yet I am unhurt among drawers… so I curl and stare blank, imbibing bits of gentle murmurings that whisper on hangers as they sway with the lint...I strain to listen but prickly voices rush out of reach from the sleeves of a night like a conversation behind closed doors… I hear yet can't quite grasp what my heart wants to say in low dips ; like a tremolo carrying mould of twilight... it chants all sermons of a Sunday church bell speaking in tongues I knew once...long ago. The moon slices the folds around me in black suds washing a laundry of venting desire, only to find myself trapped in pins…I feel a stab, a grating chill: perhaps, I have no language when no one wants to listen.
Maytime Premiere Contest Sponsor: Brian Strand


Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2014


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A tribute to Leonora G

~ Yolanda was--her name ~    Featuring:) Leonora Galinta

From a hell storm,
A mighty she-devil took on its form
Like a woman scorn ascending from the sea
Haiyan whipped across the central Philippines,
A deadly typhoon, maximum winds of around 315 
Terrorizing the fragile mind before making landfall
Hitting with the center eye off from her hostility 
A merciless turbulence that came and changed everything

Like a Massive Storm  
She comes in as the wise thief of the day and night, 
In her notorious gust of rage roars in disguise of thunder, 
With the company of her own knight of darkness, 
Raze all in a blast of waves wherever her path crosses, 
Ruining one of the cities down to a devastation in the land
“Pearl of the Orient Seas.” 

A mighty tempest in a woman’s name…. Yet, 
A disgrace with more than an immortal man in strength, 
Nature devouring nature itself 
Including her stewards and stewardesses
An unmerciful encroachment, robbing, killing adults and children. 

Yolanda, so cruel in her evil walloping!
A guest left smiling,
Engraving echoes of tears, from every single mourn
Vain, wicked, and colorless -no other air’s compare 
The lives she stole, one heart at a time
Pouring down the most nauseating rain, 
The pain is dissenting with everyone-- everywhere.
The bully of wind, invading sands of serenity

Unknowingly, far beyond your back----------------------------
Everybody will be summoning up more than your strength- 


:)


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013


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In The Flesh

Introducing: Casarah Nance & Poet Destroyer

Scars of empty promises are darkened by your kiss.
Torturous touches are meant to soothe my pain.
It is without gain, without pleasure, beyond measure,
You are the puppet master, strung on dark days, a haze.
Specter of solitude, you confine me with your magnitude,
What purpose do I serve, is slavery what I deserve?
Tell me your intention, sate me with your perfection.
Shed a light into this soul starved sanctuary,
Come, whisper your words in my ear, complete me…

       A sweet surrender to your call, a will of solitude
       I lead the way, cutting strings attached to the light
       Touching every breathing strand stressing yesterday
       Giving you room to fall into my designated despair,
       Adding, to your creeping gloom, I give and lend pouring pain,
       the kind of pain, that begs for blades
       Abhorring the taste of life, your flesh empowers my darkness
       My intentions are nothing more, than a shadow bearing strength,
       Smiling at your tears, caressing your lips,
       Taking from the closure your soul seeks tonight
       Blind! You will become to the misery, in this barren place
       The pain of rigor mortise will blend against your pale skin
       A slave without shackles,
       I concur with pleasure to feed the hunger, you give
       Forever, I am DARKNESS

~A Poet Destroyer collaboration~



Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015


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GRANDPA

*GRANDMA WAITS IN THE GARDEN*

Hi, grandpa, it's me again!
Your dentures sit in an open glass above the nightstand
Remember the tears grandma sang before she passed?
The way she looked into your eyes, 
Moments before she said her goodbyes
Grandpa, I found a note from grandma, 
She waits for you.

Hi grandpa, it’s me again!
The rocking chair is old and dusty
Remember the way grandma sat me on her lap?
Read many stories before I took a nap
How she enjoyed stroking my hair with her hands
I miss the way she rocked me to sleep every night 

Hello, grandpa!
I stored your hearing aid away
Remember that special musical box in grandma's drawer? 
I opened it last night, to watch the ballerina soar
I wish you could hear the tiny chimes grandma loved
I hope you don’t mind, I’m keeping grandma's favorite scarf

Hello, Grandpa!
I'm caressing grandma’s picture frame
Remember the way she looked in the yellow pretty sundress?
Grandpa, I miss the things grandmother did for you
Like the walking cane, she handcrafted before she left

Hello, grandpa, it's me again! 
Here I sit holding your hand
I have no more tears
Soon you will see her again
She will no longer be alone
Say hi to her, give her a kiss
Tell her I miss her so much
Bye, grandpa

~*~


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013


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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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HE'S MR KNOW IT ALL - NOW A COLLABORATION

Old blabber mouth gets on my wick His attitude makes me quite sick He plays to the crowd Is brash and so loud My husband thinks he's an idiot! Inspired by Stevie Wonder Song on the Radio today - He's Misstra know it all' WRITTEN BY JAN ALLISON Impolite blabber mouths and know it alls completely ignore rules and protocols nasty comments they impart from the pit of a black heart Jackasses like that should be kept in stalls From that mouth erupts volcanic dribble He taunts with words until there's a quibble But runs with tucked tail With a cry and a wail! When he's bitten with more than a nibble WRITTEN BY LIN LANE His ego keeps growing up top Mouths opinion not gonna stop No poet nor bard He's such a blow hard Can't wait for his bubble to pop WRITTEN BY TIM SMITH A video was made for a surprise party. Each person, including children, pretending to spoil the surprise. Weebles were a type of toy. Little people that would wobble and not fall down. HERE is the limerick: Who can stand them, blabbermouths in the know? Watch those weebles wobble and watch them go! Wee foibles whisper into ears. It’s for a surprise party, dears. Acting their parts, turns out it’s all for show! WRITTEN BY Kim Rodrigues © 7/2/2018 If your “wit” doesn’t get you that far, And all you’ve got’s blah blah blah blah, I’ll give you advice Cos I’m terribly nice... If you zip it, we’ll all shout “hurrah!” WRITTEN BY NINA PARMENTER There's nothing more infuriating than a know it all Who loves nothing more than to make you look small But its so lovely when they come up Against someone who knows their stuff And like old Humpty Dumpty they have a great fall WRITTEN BY TOM CUNNINGHAM He always sings the same boring song With a foot in his mouth, and a thong He thinks he knows it all But I will make him fall Let me google it and prove him wrong WRITTEN BY TEPPO GREN He talks fast and has a huge head I’m sure he thinks of “bull” in bed His words are empty He gets no sympathy That’s all I have to say, enough said WRITTEN BY ALEXIS Y I once met a man from Peru Who said he knew better than you He was a huge phony And full or balony He knew nothing, that he thought he knew WRITTEN BY CHARLES MESSINA I once knew a man from Brazil A know it all with looks that could kill once he opened his mouth it was like a babbling spout He was no longer much of a thrill WRITTEN BY TANIA KITCHIN His horse races wearing no shoes Counts by fingers and toes by two's His life sick and sad Wants to be so bad Friends happy when he has the blues FIRST EVER LIMERICK WRITTEN BY ROBERT LINDLEY I know someone on poetry soup. Opens their mouth and words fly the coop. Tries so very hard to write, Condemnation is their plight! A name? I cannot that low stoop! WRITTEN BY MICK TALBOT PLEASE FEEL FREE TO JOIN IN AND WRITE A POEM ABOUT BLABBERMOUTHS THEN PLEASE SOUP MAIL ME YOUR LIMERICK AWARDED POEM OF THE DAY 3RD JULY - THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO CONTRIBUTED AND IS SHARING THIS HONOUR 7/2/18


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2018


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FINALLY

Finally 

Doctor, it's been 7 months 
The MEDs aren't kicking in

My dreams are getting stronger, 
The blood remains to run code red
It's getting harder and harder to get out of bed 
Dark images keep taking place inside my head 
The voices - The voices, are not all right!

I no longer lay laughing 
The screaming never stops
In irons,  my mind rattles 
Theses thoughts are all I got
In slow motion, my mind plans the perfect plot

Finally, I realize the sanity of this is perfect
Counting every single second on the clock 
At first, I could not breathe 
I felt, I was left alone, 
Broken down --- Incomplete  
In your eyes, the schizophrenia spoke loud
In my eyes, everything is dark and gray

Doctor, now listen closely, open your eyes
While the walls slowly close in on you
I have my hands around your neck
Finally, I feel my arms, the needles are gone

Finally, I realize the sanity of this is perfect
The tightening of the chest is clearing
Today I possess a little more than yesterday 
Knowing exactly what needs to be done.

DOC YOU AREN'T LISTENING!
Was it all for nothing, the bloody wrist?
The faucet constantly dripping every night
The voices I call my friends

Deep, deep down,  
I'm still a child, painting  bedroom walls
Setting fires after my mother's death 
A crazy peril in its most threatening state

Doc, here you are again,
No longer will I allow you to waste my time
With your fetish lies, trying to make me better 
The problem is not me, it was always you!
Painting pink butterflies and white skies

Finally, I realize the sanity of this is perfect
Don't you understand  she's dead!
Pills aren't going to bring her back 
Padded rooms aren't going to help me,
Help myself --- grieve  the proper  way!
Straitjackets aren't going to restrain me, 
--- from wanting to hurt badly!
Psychologically, I'm perfectly sane 
Expressing my emotions a different way.

Doctor, you're not saying nothing 
You're not moving, 
You're just sitting there pretending to care.
Doc, I hope you aren't mad?
The voices explained it had to end this way
How else could I make you listen?

Finally, the impulse is gone 
Finally, I'm going to be alright 

       by: Pd


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015


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Twas A Full Moon Shining - Collab

Twas a full moon shining on a cool summer night And hound dogs were howling at its silver shadowed light. I heard but a whisper on the cool evening breeze, Twas the voice of a woman I used to chase and tease. Our love was forever, at least I used to think it so. Then came the day she left me; I wondered, where’d she go? If true love lasts forever, was this love not for me? I heard an answer on the wind - Son, your true love is she. A true love will always linger in the shadows of your heart Even when the one you love has chosen to depart. True love is the love you gave, no matter what the cost It will return to you again, for it is never lost. Like a full moon shining on a cool summer night With placid waters glistening in its silver shadowed light Love comes like a whisper on a cool evening breeze A gentle touch, a soft caress, a rustle in the trees. There is no bitterness in the past, if your love was true The sweetness in the memory is true love’s gift to you A rising sun or new full moon is not a memory And so will love come once again, if you let it be. Twas a full moon shining on a cool summer night And hound dogs were howling at its silver shadowed light I heard but a whisper on the cool evening breeze, Twas the voice of love’s song...answering my pleas.
11-17-12 *An excellent collab,with John Wulf & Dan Kearley*


Copyright © Dan Kearley | Year Posted 2012


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My day as a woman

When I awoke, a woman I'd become
The spirit of many, contained in one
Strength and beauty, mystical tears
Magical entity, who hated mirrors

Looking at reflection, I seen my flaws
Yet in the background, I heard applause 
Others seen me, with much different eyes
I listened too their voices, discarded my lies

The blood of creation, flowing in my veins
A brave warrior, a vision with brains
Nurture and strength, complicated friend
Passion personified, a master of pretend

Layers of lovely, deeper than a well
If you love me, I have a secret to tell
Loyal and fierce, sometimes hiding my face
Push me to far, I'll be gone without a trace

My day has ended, time to go to bed
Still words unspoken need to be said
Yet in the end I turn back into a man
Enriched by women, I am who I am

For Women Only Contest 2
By: Richard Lamoureux 
Perhaps you will allow me to be an honorary woman 
Either way I enjoyed writing this poem. Thanks for the inspiration.


Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014


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Once Held Sweet Emotion

When I experience a pure love unbound
Turns out its pain in disguise I've found

Again you've done it, to me now twice
Reminding me, that love has a price

Sitting once more, wondering what i did
Of these feelings, for me it does forbid

Had to be my fault, because you knew
Shattering pain, my heart went through

I blame myself, for the pain I receive
Tears blur my eyes, as i try to retrieve

Hands tremble and shoulders shake
Sobs overtake me, as does this ache

Pain shoots through from my fingertips
I bring my bloody finger quick to my lips

Being the final straw for me I collapse
I felt like an addict how did i relapse

Laying upon the floor, lights then fade
I look to the mess, my heart has made

Jagged shards lay upon the floor
It once was my heart, but not anymore

Shards turn to ash, removing my choice
Love cant return, says a familiar voice

To be able to move on, I cant comprehend
Seeing a mess, this time I cant pretend

I stand to sweep, the ash all together
Now my hearts beyond repair forever

Shaking my head, what was i thinking of
I let you break me and steal my love

Empty where it once held sweet emotion
To love again, was just a silly notion

Without a heart, I now cannot feel the pain
What's lost forever, you can never regain!

And love will never, ever again come into my life
I hope now for a peace, with out any more strife!

4/11/18




Copyright © Brenda Chiri | Year Posted 2018


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Support Your Local Poet

“Support your local poet please”
Said the man with hand out and down on one knee
I’m down on my luck
And for only a buck
My humble verses will put you at ease

Whatever your pleasure
Whatever your mood
A simple rhyme is sure to soothe
Perhaps a Sonnet or Ballad will do
Or maybe a Limerick for a laugh or two

How about a Couplet or a fine Crystalline
Or is a simple Haiku more your scene?
I’ll sing you a Lyric if you have the time
Or spill out an Ode as sweet as wine

I’m a simple man’s poet
Just trying to get by
So hearken your ear and I’ll tell you no lies
I am what I am no less no more
The words of this soul are an open door
For my tongue is richly blessed though some think me poor

I assure you my friend this isn’t a scheme
Just give me a listen you’ll see what I mean
For words can be such a valuable thing
When they make one think… “perchance to dream”

- This write prompted by the above sticker. I received it from some fellow poets while attending an open poetry night at a coffee house in downtown Flint, Michigan several years ago. It now proudly adorns my guitar case. :)


Copyright © Chris Hagy | Year Posted 2017


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The Voices Echo in Emptiness

With a sigh summer citrine sky turned green 
spontaneously into existence. 
Autumn's palette adds changes and are seen
to its systematic experience.

Stars shiver in fear on the coldest night. 
Voices in the darkness look for refuge;
heaven bound birds gather in distant flight
sailing through winds dusty powdered steel rouge.

The long day is dead, voices won't let me sleep. 
Hush. Hush. The voices echo in emptiness. 
Whiff of sandalwood lost in shadows deep.
The voices know my loneliness, the nothingness.

Amber encroaches the dawning of morning fight 
through window curtains the whitest lace of light.


12/3/2018

Poetry Contest: 'Voices....' 
Sponsored By: 	Silent One


Copyright © Eve Roper | Year Posted 2018


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Security Blanket

Security Blanket 

No chance of rain tonight,
No bogeyman, when I turn off the lights.
A phrase I found and adore with the warmth of your security.
You are the reason I attain true maturity.

I love when you lay down next to me,
Like the high tide of the sea,
You move all the warm emotions inside.
My arms are the comfort you use to seek and hide.

Your nestle holds a true rhythm that hums its own song~
Nothing comes close to breaking this precious bond~
A sweet cradle-song only I hear,
You play my grin, without the strings of a puppeteer.

My heartbeat needs its fix and drug,
Your sweet, charming smiles and hug, 
Is all I need to succeed, 
You are, my only creed!

A kiss, I give on your forehead,
Into a poet’s world where your blanket a dulcet lullaby, 
my arms are your bed.

“Goodnight Sweet Child, Sweet Child of Mine!”

By; pd


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013


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Mermaid's Milk: a collaboration with the still dashing David Williams

The moss clung tightly; making it unbearable to breathe, 
and she sealed her lips tighter than a clam’s— not letting the pain take over

As the stars drift silently, like ships on a lost sea of darkness,
she whispers to Hope: 
“Swim free and look for the horizon, then come back to me...”

The night; collected on the leaves, 
       drops fell like Mermaid’s milk onto an already moist floor
Striking the shimmering tearful medium, 
         it gives birth to a shower of graceful pearls as the dawn awaits

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I hear your voice drift upon a cool ocean breeze; 
              gilded words of adoration 
I glide towards it, praying that it guides me, 
          strengthens me, 
                nurtures me 
  like Mermaid’s milk

Touch as I might, my senses are in-different to please, my voice mute!
Be my Siren’s song and sing for me, serenade my senses back to life...

With an inquisitive tongue, I taste an almost scentless flower 
It is but a wisp, a whisper, a flick of a ray of sunshine, but it was There.

So much is lost. 
    The rivulets of time, hear me, see me, like a ghostly apparition...
Capture me in that moment by lovingly painting me. 
Sing me a song while you do, 
            and let the Mermaid’s milk flow again.




*****
Thank you David, for waiting ever so patiently for my long overdue part-- 
it was a very nice challenge for me to write this :) 
Thank you very much for the inspiring lines...


Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2012


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Hearts and Solitaire

The deck of cards
Flies away in the wind
Leaving those alone
Playing solitaire

I see the pain written on faces
I feel humanities disgraces
I can not play this lonely game
I run and hide from solitary fame

In the window, you see me over there?
I am not cold or in despair
I have a meal and more to spare
I hide from musical encounters, beggars too

I feel such pain
I feel the tears
Of that lonely man
He with no teeth, in sleet and rain

Me even worse off, heartless and slain






Solitaire is indeed a lonely game


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016


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The Voice

He is the voice inside your heart
the one that makes you care
the voice that cries at injustices
when life becomes unfair

He is compassion deep within
that stirs and makes you feel
the hurt and pain and helplessness
of the suffering and grieved

He is your comfort in sadness felt
when you try to understand
the senseless emphasis on things
of insignificance to man

He is the love no one can cloak
the tears of joy you shed
the water that connects the souls
of both the living and the dead

He is the force that shielded you
that kept you safe from falling
the guide that won't leave you alone
until you hear his voice that's calling

The voice that says he's engraved inside
your heart and soul and mind
and he'll bring to you remembrances
if you but want to seek, you'll find

He is the voice you know exists
healing wounds of your life's story
The voice determined that you win
And be partaker of his glory

He is the peace who ends despair
the truth in you for cause to say
"My God! My God! I know you're here
for you shine to light the way

and blood once shed has cleansed my sins
my aged old mind has been set free
Father, I do glorify thy name
for grace that reconciles through Christ in me"

And thus it is, the voice of hope
that enables you to stand
His reach is to the very core
His wisdom..the rebirth of the soul of man..


Copyright © Diana Mohammed | Year Posted 2012


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The Duck That Lost His Quack

The Duck That Lost His Quack


A Duck woke up late one day last week,
And all he could do was to squeak.
He looked everywhere and listened to different things, 
Even heard sounds all around, from pings to zings.

For example, he tried many gates, stairs, and barn doors,
Then went and stepped on cracks in nearby creaky floors.
He visited several witches, doctors and some were both,
They prescribed everything from lemons to ginger troth.

In his travels, he came across a quaint woodshop, 
Being so tired, he sat down with a solid plop.
A carpenter saw that the Duck was so very sad, 
From behind the counter, he came to help the lad.

After hearing of the tale of a missing sound,
The carpenter leapt up with a double bound.
He said, “From within is where it comes, 
Not outside, as most would sum.”

“I have made many instruments for music, 
And what you need is something acoustic.”
He brought out a short board with a nail, 
Then attached several metal strings to a pail.

The carpenter said, “Play away and listen to the sounds in your head.”
The Duck strummed everything from Enya to the Grateful Dead.
After a fashion, the Duck was soon lost in the tunes,
And started to dance and sing like a midnight Lune.

Who knew that this Duck had a knack,
And in the middle of it all started to quack.
So you see, it’s not external to what you seek,
In many cases, its internal and who you meet.



Written by Michael Eastman, 8-25-2015,

This, after listening to Bubbles the Mouse speak,
And hearing a long story composed of squeaks.


Copyright © Michael Eastman | Year Posted 2015


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Cracking as Broken Toys

Picking up my phone, the voice recalls my memories
Sweet talker across the line, hey... it's been a while
Days running, things change, here we are aloof in our boundaries

Trapped within our history, now we play the role of our guile 
The way you speak is like negating the past
Sweet talker across the line, hey... it's been a while

Hurting each other became the story of our last
The lampblack dwell beneath the wounds, torn by the pain that we cost
The way you speak is like negating the past

We tired in our drama, we trapped in our anger loft
Burnt by the old grudge, how can we fix this dust?
The lampblack dwell beneath the wounds, torn by the pain that we cost

Standing limp on the ruin of us
Now we are broken toys if you still want to play, it's up to you
Burnt by the old grudge, how can we fix this dust?

Still in the past memory I flew
Now we are broken toys if you still want to play, it's up to you
Picking  up my phone, the voice recalls my memories
Days running, things change, here we are aloof in our boundaries


Copyright © Yanny Widjanarko | Year Posted 2013


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tribute five

"Please Allow Me to Speak for Him"
by:  Eric L. Boddie

Strength is boundless within his words
In the hearts of many, he should be heard
Lent me his pen one time in the past
Even his dark stuff reveals the awesome skill he has
Nothing can destroy a heart that's really pure
The Answer Is Christ, The Only Known Cure

Once He Arrives, everything makes sense
Nothing but his pen can get that intense
Each selection I have read makes me more appreciate what his pen invents


Copyright © eric boddie | Year Posted 2015


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The Storm

A cold wind blows,
turning hardened walls to sand.
Breaking down the barriers
exposing the emotions that were held inside.

The pain builds,
from hurts buried deep within.
Storm clouds roll in
dark, cold, and threatening.

Thunder rumbles,
roars across the darkened land.
A voice breaking the spirit:
Stupid
Ugly
Hated
Harlot
Die...
the words echo through the ears.

Lightning flashes,
shattering the very heavens.
Words drift through the mind:
Unwanted
Nothing
No-one
Useless
Alone...
casting shadows of doubt through the soul.

The tears fall from the eyes,
from a heart broken and battered.
Rain pours down from above
overflowing, unable to be contained.

Then finally as the rage is spent,
a calm stillness overtakes the cleansed world.
In the arms of a friend
peace is found once again.

And a voice whispers to the night:
"I'm alright..."


Copyright © Jennifer King | Year Posted 2010


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The Voice

He is the voice inside your heart
the one that makes you care
the voice that cries at injustices
when life becomes unfair

He is compassion deep within
that stirs and makes you feel
the hurt and pain and helplessness
of the suffering and grieved

He is your comfort in sadness felt
when you try to understand
the senseless emphasis on things
of insignificance to man

He is the love no one can cloak
the tears of joy you shed
the water that connects the souls
of both the living and the dead

He is the force that shielded you 
that kept you safe from falling
the guide that won't leave you alone
until you hear his voice that's calling

The voice that says he's engraved inside
your heart and soul and mind
and he'll bring to you remembrances 
if you but want to seek, you'll find

He is the voice you know exists
healing wounds of your life's story
The voice determined that you win
And be partaker of his glory

He is the peace who ends despair
the truth in you for cause to say
"My God! My God! I know you're here
for you shine to light the way

and blood once shed has cleansed my sins
My aged old mind has been set free
Father I do glorify thy name
for grace that reconciles through Christ in me"

And thus it is..the voice of hope
that enables you to stand
His reach is to the very core
His wisdom..the rebirth of the soul of man...



Copyright © Diana Mohammed | Year Posted 2012