Long Set on Poems
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some say maybe
some say gravely
but the law of older
age is that gravity
weighs heavily on
ones body my body
being no exception
so to mention with
no intentions or
meaning but
to man up
mainly my
sagging
mass
starting below
the neckline i'm
taking the time
to ponder there
where a woman
would have a tan
line if bikini clad
any time
in the sun
but mine
can never
sate a babe
but my babe
can sate me
sucking as if
suckling she
receives no
nutrition but
nurtures my
pleas of yes
please please
me
now
trying
to see if
i can see
my toes by
simply looking
passed my not
being ignorant
pregnant look
ing belly that
blocks the
sight of my
site seeing
eyes
not being
able to get
a glimpse so
i wiggle them
to just make sure
they are securely there
yes my world is not flat
visability an uncertainty
navigating by feeling
i find below my
equatorial belt
line my edenic
peach tree
still can stand
when it doesn't
want to slump
but the bee
hives hang
cautiously
wanting
honey for honey
not to be stung
i wear pocketed
pants planting
my single cell
phone in one
asking her
to text
or call
many
times
but not
to worry
my response
won't be by reply
my cell is set on
vibrate
Form:
You read out of obligation,
a tit for tat consolation...
a "thank you for your visit" affirmation
it's cool, this unspoken rule
I do it too, so what’s new?
It's only being civil
community code of camaraderie
who can break free?
It needs to be done
loyalties need to be won
so does the "comment hit and run"
then on to another one
I appreciate that, truth be told
this give and take system should hold
on poetic pleasantries, I am sold
“Reciprocity” is gold
Oh, but that's not quite the same
as being sure that you came
because I'm a favorite name
in your poet hall of fame
Come goaded by greed
desperate to feed
voyeuristic as I bleed
needing my pain to be freed
Come craving my rhyme fix
the potency of this mix
my poetic party tricks
Come click for the best picks
Read the poet pillaged by pain
who's been baptized by rain
holding on to the sane
let me battle your bane
Read me because you know
you need me to grow
Dip in the stream of this flow
words above, words below
Read and be set on fire
by word kindling of desire
Flames that lick passion higher
making each thought perspire
Obligation is overrated
though my words might be dated
the ideas? NOT antiquated
to existence they’re related
Come visit me
Come here so you’ll see
Passion infused poetry
that melds you and me
Eileen Manassian
To speak for those, who no longer have a voice,
were I to get it wrong, would they really have a choice?
No.., they didn't choose me as spokesperson, why would they?
I am not clairvoyant.
But they haunt my dreams still...cause me to rise, plead me to look back.
They won't let me alone, point in fact.
“I am waiting patiently. Goodbye my darlings"
Bill didn't have enough water to write much more than this.
Born on Valentine's day, with his heart set on Chubby,
eight days to dwell on a love that almost was, now missed.
Mia was a sad-eyed beauty, there's no denying that.,
she never got free the shadow cast, Ernie's early demise.
Though a mother's love, given and reciprocated,
found a fondness binding, throughout her short life.
Marty made the day special for friends and family,
never thinking of himself, a miracle and twin borne.
Forsaken in life's wishes, called only for justice seen,
lived life fitting of a brother they'll always mourn.
Save up the coins for the ferryman while you still can,
the days will bring swift recounting.
Leave lasting memory for love's empty hand,
and debts of the heart ever surmounting.
[Verse 1 – Him]
Wake up with the sunrise, boots on the floor
Coffee in the kitchen, same as the day before
I love like I live—steady, slow, and strong
Keep it simple, keep it real, keep movin’ on
[Verse 2 – Her]
I move to the rhythm of a city beat
Glass in my hand, high heels on my feet
Love, to me, is spark and style
Never stayed long, never thought I’d walk the aisle
[Pre-Chorus – Together]
We speak in different keys, walk to different tunes
But something started shifting under the same moon
[Chorus – Him leads, Her harmonizes, then together]
You’re the spice in my Sunday stew
I’m the calm when the world’s brand new
You shine like a rooftop view
I’m the porch swing next to you
You’re the harmony I never knew I needed
In a song I thought was already completed
We’re not just two playing along
Together, baby… we make the song
[Verse 3 – Him]
Playing that bar on a Friday night
Same three chords, same neon light
Then you walked in with fire and grace
Grabbed the mic, and changed the place
[Verse 4 – Her]
I didn’t come to steal the show, just passing through
But your melody pulled something real from me too
I grabbed the mic, found your groove
Laid my voice on yours, and it started to move
Not just pretty, not just sweet—
We hit a chord that knocked me off my feet
[Pre-Chorus – Together]
Two voices blending where silence used to be
I found the song, and the song found me
[Chorus – Together]
You’re the spice in my Sunday stew
I’m the calm when the world’s brand new
You shine like a rooftop view
I’m the porch swing next to you
You’re the harmony I never knew I needed
In a song I thought was already completed
We’re not just two playing along
Together, baby… we make the song
[Bridge]
(Him) Never thought love had room to grow
(Her) Never knew slow could steal the show
(Both) But now our rhythm’s strong and sweet
Like a record set on repeat
[Final Chorus]
You’re the fire and I’m the stone
Together, we built a place called home
Different roots but the same deep beat
Now every note feels so complete
You’re the harmony I never knew I needed
In a song I thought was already completed
We’re not just right—we belong
You and me…
We make the song
When I was little, before I started school,
my dream was to be a professional dancer
for I knew I had that natural talent instilled
in me, talent that was not taken seriously.
The magic, beauty of dance stayed in me.
Although, I never had any dance lessons,
I was always selected to perform at my
schools, recitals and community events.
Life took over and as I navigated the many
twists, turns, inclines and descents of my life,
like a roller coaster, it became loud and clear
I was not meant to be a professional dancer.
My burning desire to dance flickered, as it
was put on the back burner for many years.
It was set on fire after I retired and started
dance lessons and living the time of my life.
It has been six years since I have been doing what
I love, dancing to express the beauty of dance in
my feelings, grace, agility, moves that the people
around me watch and feel the liveliness within me.
Yes, they come and tell me ….
In the process of
Trying to connect
Creative energy
Stood erect
Unbending, unyielding
Expression fully known
She knew self
And didn't need to be shown
...humility
They grabbed and mauled
Pulled her to the ground
Covered her mouth
So she couldn't sound
The alarm was mute
Her fight was gone
She was boxed and packaged
PROGRAMMED to carry on
...bondage
The spark was almost out
When a light arose from within
She saw the TRUTH
That had grown from sin
Separation from source
Trying to create without permission
Gave rise to empires
Dead set on derision
...sovereignty
When she came to be
The ocean surrounded presence
She couldn't be separated
From her god-given essence
Striving stopped, flow released
What was given, fully received
Clothed in golden light
Showed the TRUTH of how lies deceived
...Kingdom
Written by Trudy Schrader on 08-18-2026
CRICKETS IN HEAD
I’m a NeoPagan
From the Church of All Worlds
Dedicated to the celebration of Life.
I’m set on a land in the long run
Looking for crackets.
The brooms come higher that I expected
And the hole throws up and has to open its songs.
I have ears to hear them
And eyes to see a deep chair In a green dress.
I find myself between
Sabbat or Pagan festival
Smiling its ok. Look:
Here’ coming Oimelc, Ostara, Beltane
Ltha, Lugnasad, Mabon, Samhain and Yule
Wanting to touch my face.
Probably they rattling
Brushing me out of its night.
And there are others:
Cernunnos and Diana saying it to me:
“Those who have ears to hear
Let them hear
The crickets’ cri cri in head”
Ok ok as I say.
Me and We are programated holler, squeaky
Dreaming the green mats
Of a hit confusión of body and mind
While crickets have a narrow squeak.
Do You know, do You see:
In the new days the celebration is
As in the old days: Crimes, rapes, wars.
The Solstice and Equinox
Walk on bloody air.
From the Zenit to the Nadir
Wo/men pass their artificial time
Living by one’s wits.
Earth relates the Universe as we perceive it:
The Solstices and Equinoxes
Are tired of our criminal freak
And Dane Rudyar’s
“The Astrology of Personality” is broken
Founding fur in our dreams
In our stew.
Word, our Word now
Is tired and rap
Robert Heinlein’ s “Stranger in a Strange Land”.
Crackets sing Neo-Paganism
In its black wings
As in the Cauldron of Cerridwen and in the Holy Grail
The day of equal dark and equal light
Beginning anew.
All yours, God said, eyes sweeping
Over an expanse of lush greenery across
A wide, deep gorge. A rolling carpet
Of lotus and daffodils in the shade
Of hillocks--juts of jumbled winking rocks.
All mine! ... Across this gorge! I mumbled.
How? ... I should need some help!
Reason said, I can't help.
Wisdom said, Neither can I.
Eyes squinted. I won't dare.
My heart throbbed, set on the rocks,
The treasures beneath the hills,
The lush garden sunning fresh bloom.
The gorge! The wide, deep gorge!
I must possess the land. Yes ... I must.
Then, faith whispered, I will help you.
I jerked. My eyes bulged. How? ...
Grasp the rope! A swing takes you there.
The rope! A swing! ... Grasp the rope!
Faith smiled. Yes ... His word.
Possibilities
Another gorgeous B. C. day – a walk – no driving
in an age, - consciousness of – that has been arriving.
On this fine day, on my rounds – the bowling alley,
I came upon, a lady I know – well not really –
I first met her at our local drug store – postal worker, her position.
A year later, on a Sunday stroll, I met her on Shaughnessy Street.
After our conversation, this PYT ( pretty young thing ) I did meet,
a smart ass, who gives me a wuz up ?, well sweetie, my supposition
is this, the sky, the clouds, the moon, the stars,
numerous solar systems, planets, happy humans and Mars
- who inhabit this universe – that’s wuz up my dear.
A perception from our point of view, I fear.
For - beyond the quicksand, the crust, the quagmire,
the mantel and the core, lays our spirit, set on fire
by all that hovers beneath, under, below wuz up,
that also becomes, wuz down my little butter cup.
B. J. “A” 2
May 1st 2005
A perfect picture- season's best
Mountains of green and skies of blue
Where birds of prey fly from their cage
A fine day stored in "Beauty's Chest"
White spotted clouds, above; they flew
'Bove winding rivers vastly rage
Beyond the darkened hills that rest
Looking like; from a bears-eye-view
A beauty set on summer's stage
Somewhere between the north and west
Trees wall where the river runs through
Nature's wilderness turns the page
A photo that is sure to sell
Of where the wild rainbow trout dwell
Photo#2
*Howmanysyllables
Trilonnet Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
6/13/2023