Sparkling, breathtakingly.
A luxurious view.
On cliff ledges who lodge them
May not think as you do!
Of million dollars worth.
When kestrel, when falcon
Is for no outstretched claw to claw's
Money exchange called on?
Poem (The bird in a cage)
Listen to my story of how I forgot
The days of freedom and nights
I would fly with open wings
And fellow birds through woods in sprite
Hither and thither, fluttering
Over gardens, mountain and trees
And listening to sweet songs
Of nearby birds, flying bees
Unfortunately those cruel trapped me
And wrapped my desires
And put me in prison
A cage of woods and wires
Currently I miss sweet voices
Of my fellow birds
That hurt me too
How can I express it in words?
Like prisoner my tears
Flow down as dew
And lost the freedom
Of nest and sky blue
How can I forget fruits?
And eating sunflowers seeds
And bringing cucumber, melon,
Wheat and grains for my breeds
In thousand pieces my heart is broken
By listening to their words
Compare my cries, sighs,
And tears with free fellow birds
Oh my GOD takes pity on me
And give me freedom from this cage
Otherwise I may die in these hard,
Sharp wires in this age
. for public domain
She felt dry inside,
past the time of blooms,
a lost petal pressed between lost pages
of a dusty book, stored among relics
in abandoned rooms.
Yet quietly nearby,
Hope, not with a boast,
trumpeting a victorious symphony
of vain promises of a life renewed,
hovered like a ghost.
She smiled wistfully,
"Love may come once more,
from someone who needs a hug, or kind word,
or just a friendly glance, as long as I
leave open my door."
“Hope springs eternal in the human breast;
Man never Is, but always To be blest.
The soul, uneasy, and confin'd from home,
Rests and expatiates in a life to come.”
- Alexander Pope, An Essay on Man
On weather always rely,
Winter has been nearby
While riding in a coach,
We saw spring approach.
God with us again will be
Saved our souls and society
To my poem there is a catch;
Mine have been hard to match.
Stony slates of stone nearby
Concreted beautifully on each other
Now mighty mountain afar
There are things
he won’t tell me as his wife
like how he’s worried
death is near and
he’s letting us down
He wants to be strong
and grab the control
but feels weak
as time slips
through his fingers
And he hasn’t the
strength to scream
while keeping his eye
on that dark tunnel
here nearby
he's worried
but doesn't let on
AP: 2nd place 2020, Front Page Pick 2020
I am dumbfounded when I watch thy command
The sun, the moon and stars obey,
The dawn and the dusk, the day,
The night, sky and air—
They follow each other,
Thy flowers with smell, fruits with juice,
The pleasing earth, and her water and songs—
Everyone has equal rights to share on them,
Yellow, black and white, the mankind thou hast created –
It was thy wish! Those colors Thou knowest well,
But we do not, Fault is ours!
Together shall we enjoy this earth
Thou hast bestowed on us, the umbilical cord
Of the mother earth linked us on
The first day of our creation as thou didst desire,
Thine precious bliss we may achieve by being patient,
Strenuously we should strive to be on a straight path,
Though that path is flanked by cactus thorns,
We are forgiven again and again,
Indeed our intellect fails to expound
Thy unfathomable mercy, O God!
I hold high my cup of joy for the love I received
from thee my Lord, my love alone found thee,
Thou dost exist so nearby me!
No doubt you've heard of fire-breathing dragons,
and their obsession with hoarding treasure.
But have you ever heard of Huffle-Winks,
magical creatures that promote pleasure?
Invisible, atop their dragonflies,
they ride the winds of fate, mile after mile.
And wherever they encounter a frown,
they attempt to flip it into a smile.
They summon dragonflies to get around,
for unlike dragons, they haven't learned to fly.
Yet, if you suddenly feel like laughing,
it's a safe bet; a Huffle-Wink's nearby.
In winter, when dragonflies disappear:
Huffle-Wink's ride upon tumbling snowflakes.
And if you're lucky enough to lure one,
it's like winning the lottery sweepstakes.
I've never seen one, except in my dreams:
deep in my heart, I know that they're real.
And what makes me so sure that they exist
is the joyful way that they make me feel?
When you're feeling particularly blue,
remember, Huffle-Winks are all around.
And as spirits of jocularity,
they ensure that smiles and laughter abound.
The child sees blue skies
Raptors spread their wings nearby
His little heart cries
NEARBY SOUNDS.
Sound waves reach eardrum that is,
a cocktail of cooler,phone,
mixer,kids play,cats meow,
nightingale's koo hoo.
Dodoitsu form is a 26 syllable poem of 4 lines of 7,7,7,5 respectively.
CONTEST:Sounds of the day.
SPONSOR:Nayda Ivette Negron.
16/07/2016.
Looking through the glass window
Visualizing in the dark clouds
Beside his lover’s bed
In a cancer department.
Comes back to her pallid face
He starts to whistle.
It’s a sweet loving song
That bound their young hearts
Since they were students.
The song of tomorrow’s life
Under the nice bright sky.
The whistling paused once in a while
By the memories of their graduation,
Wedding and honeymoon.
With watery eyes he goes on
Then he gently touches her face
Combs her hair with his fingers.
He watches over the gray rainy sky
Keeping on whistling
The same old one which she retold:
I love this song for my whole life!
Why must I hear
the tempting gurgle
Of the life giving stream
A sound wet with promise
Of refreshment
Why must I see
The alluring rush of movement
Liquid heaven
An enticing flow
Beckoning me to immersion
Why must I but lie here
Dying for want of water?
The sandpaper of my lips
Not even welcoming
A tongue cracked
With not a drop of moisture
to bring relief
To assuage the grief
Or parched dreams
My throat constricts
contractions
that fail to produce
Life
I’m dying
My skin dry
I lie
Devoid of liquid to cry tears
Why? WHY?
Why Am I here
Beside this life giving stream
Tormented
Where is the angel
To lift my weary head
And gently pour this water
On my waiting lips
Patiently ministering
Again and again
Liquid healing
Waiting….
Till I’m somewhat revived
To carry me
Slowly
Purposefully
into waiting watery wetness
of heaven
Until I am baptized
In liquid bliss
I’m dying here
Here on the edge
I see
I hear
I can almost taste
Feel
The stream of your love
bathing me
quenching me
freeing me
healing me
Forbidden to drink
Forbidden to taste
Forbidden to touch
Forbidden to love
Forbidden to LIVE
But why?
Why must I die?
When the water of life
Is nearby
Eileen Manassian Ghali
A tree with yellow
And gold leaves lives close, nearby
Glistening in rain
It produces an air of
Fall in its supremacy
Russell Sivey
Two
fawn stood
beyond Dale's
grave and fed on
fallen acorns. A
doe, then a second deer
haltingly drew near. One buck
hung back where grass met woods, head raised,
watching. . . like my dear brother - apart
from family, yet not too far away.
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