Let’s not make a scene—
not in front of the metaphor-curious.
We owe them a semblance
of shared syllabic stability.
You take Tuesdays,
I’ll keep weekends and the enjambments.
Let’s split the metaphors equitably—
you keep flame, I’ll keep ash.
No one touches liminal.
I’ll speak highly of your similes
at open mic,
nod with gentle gravitas
when they ask if we’re
still...collaborating.
We’ll stage polite reposts,
perhaps a comment or two—
Stunning work! Your voice is missed!
Even though our voices
are on everything. Loudly.
We’ll give them what they crave:
poised poets
posing as lovers
in the filtered light
of someone’s Instagram story.
Not because it’s true—
God, no.
But because some of the haiku kids
just found their footing,
and I won’t be the one
to shake their form.
She served him tea and fed him his favorite snack,
And also kept a bouquet of roses in his closet's rack,
Yet he walked away without looking at them even once,
And she felt betrayed by one of her loved ones.
Yet, one day, when he was attacked my a robber,
She ran-up to save him while his girl walked away,
As she wanted her life more than him to be longer,
And left him and ran away.
She had a few coins in her purse,
Which was the only means for her to travel back home,
Yet she ran-up to him and gave all her money to the robber to save him -
- Yes, save him from the doom,
And when the robber went - she gave him first-aid like a nurse.
She could not go home now as all her money was gone,
Yet she saved his life which was for her game-on,
Tears filled his eyes as she sat in a corner,
Begging money from others to go home,
and he did give her some of his money out of pity,
Seeing her for it-everywhere roam.
For what exactly enate
Value do I personally so much
Place and stake
Numbers in order to derive
Just how so many lives
The message I so desperately sought
Within to deliver
And future cost
It pains me dearly I may pay
Will not even even see the light of day
Matters not
When all and sundry is forgot
As I and if alone will only are to be enabled
To know the real and only true
Enate true actual real value
That I alone
Care desperately enough
To pour
These my mere
Words and heartfelt thoughts
To you here another
If neither you don't either
Care or give the slightest
Damn about
For after all then
Who am i deceiving
But sadly me
My own self
And my fragile mental health
For crying's sake,
If I could cry,
I'd take a break,
Yet eyes stay dry.
I'll stem the tears
With laughter droll,
And halt those fears
I bane extoll.
Fantasies glisten. Wealth untold.
Dimly clear; seen near and afar.
Wee men; chase around pots of gold.
Missed heaven. Prospecting a star.
She wishes; he’d only listen.
When lovers drift. They drift bizarre.
Act out; miscue the rendition.
Missed heaven. Prospecting a star.
He utters “turn the other cheek.”
Sneakers; lacing up the crossbar.
I pray he makes it through the weak.
Missed heaven. Prospecting a star.
Don’t let distractions go too far…
Missed heaven. Prospecting a star.
I
a low buzz,
maybe a hum? under
my note.
I hear it—see it.
give up the piece
or keep it,
keep it.
art with children, new, gray.
Blessed are the
music makers.
II
Thoracic curve, eyes down.
weight, not of the world,
but of my own creation, pulls
my head by a string.
bare feet to be
grounded.
“you’re a modern child”
says the master.
“there is a weight to you,”
she says with
an old twinkle
and a smile.
III
pencils, down.
luckily, I write with
pen.
the entire world in a squid’s
heart
my life is not here;
a future
—down the hall.
but there is something.
there.
I am a note, a curve, a stroke.
modern’s child, gift of weight in my throat.
If you think that life
Is supposedly supposed to be fair
I can only presume you may have
Taken a wrong turn and ended up
in fools heaven
As again just to me
It sounds to me like
You or whomever told you
Or lead you into believing that
Has never really actually been
Anywhere near there
But yes for definitely
This I can most honestly and truthfully say
If Frank Sinatra owned the right
To do things his way
Then this is my way
Of preserving my state of mental health
Not joining hands
And being lead blindly by the blind
And yes I take no pride nor joy
For expressing this my view point
Out loud or in a crowd
As would nothing more nor less
Than for the above mentioned
Statement of the world to be true
But due to the fact it isn't
And I see it quite patently ain't
Id much rather choose
Not to make it any further worse
By acknowledging
And predicating this
Unholy lie
If you poke an alligator with a snake
Or you dance the foxtrot on a garden rake
Or you kiss a crocodile
Cos you love its big wide smile
Then you’ve lived a lot too long for goodness sake
If your tea time treat is poison ivy cake
If you paid a gangster off with cash that’s fake
If you just topped up your gin
With some nitro glycerin
Then you’ve lived a lot too long for goodness sake
If you pour hot chilli powder on your steak
Or you ice skate on a barely frozen lake
If you throw a punch or two
At someone bigger than you
Then you’ve lived a lot too long for goodness sake
So why don’t you sit at home and learn to bake
Learn to cook a three course meal or carrot cake
You could practice origami
Til you drive yourself half barmy
Then you’ll know you've lived too long for goodness sake
CONSTANZA POETRY
FOR SAKE OF MAN
When I see the birds large and small
Hear their melodies fill the earth
I know their songs are of great worth
````````````````````````````
Or view a splashing waterfall
This reminds me every day
That God can take our thirst away
`````````````````````````````
Or hear a woodsy echo call
Each animal has purpose too
In Heaven we will know 'tis true
``````````````````````````````
And watch the insects fly or crawl
Their colors are of ev'ry hue
I know they have their uses too
``````````````````````````````
I think of Him who made them all
For all of life He has great plan
And all were made for sake of man
```````````````````````````````
In His image we stand so tall
Plans for man are beyond our thought
For this is what Christ's blood has bought
Copyright, Kathryn Search
Why write a sonnet for a sonnet's sake?
The mist has lifted and the sun is warm
Within the earth and deep inside the corm
Life waits. See how the ripples on the lake
Reflect the light, and how the grasses shake
Why stay indoors and write so in a form
That long ago did take the world by storm
But now would barely make a baby wake?
Why not? The world's excitements pass me by
Its many problems, purposes, and pains
Can stay outside. The movements of the sky
Are moments, but the sonnet still remains
And anyway, that Shakespeare, what a guy!
Yeah, this one's a Petrarchan, she explains
© Gail Foster 15th February 2023
For Love's Sake-- you're no mistake!!
Reserve a wish on your birthday cake
For peace of heart with nothing fake;
God's Love cannot bring heartbreak :)
He's the Valentine Who won't forsake
For love's sake,
out by the beautiful lake. I will lovingly make,
a big heart shaped cake.
It will need some time to bake, then chocolate icing not a milkshake.
For love's sake,
today you are all mine and awake.
Date Written: 1/26/2023
Man heard a voice saying
Lend me your eyes
I will show you the sufferings
Man heard a voice saying
Lend me your ears
I will tell you the reason
Man heard a voice saying
Lend me your mouth
I will argue with you the ultimate solution
But man never cares
He is a born miser
Not to lend anything
Except for his own sake
And benefits
No one can enjoy prosperity,
No one can see humanity.
In war each has to pay,
The warriors death' on glorious day.
No one can enjoy prosperity,
No one can see humanity.
In war each has to cry,
Ground red and dark smokie sky.
No one can enjoy prosperity,
No one can see humanity.
In war each has to lose,
Natural green, and friends whose..!
No one can enjoy prosperity,
No one can see humanity.
In war each one dies,
And a hot dust gloomy sun rises.
Blink at your peril just incase it passes
you bye
Putin is on the war path to Ukraine
As if you miss it , it won't be back until
Haley's comet ride's our darkened night
sky again
Big Ben's Bell's hand strikes the
bewitching hour of 10 as a
Cuckoo flew traverse over the
luna full moon
Highlighting the Luftwaffe over
Yee Old London Town dropping
a blitzkrieg of bomb's from the sky
Beneath a total eclipse of the sun
so confused and utterly perplexed
It knows whether not to it should
wink , smile , cry or avert its Ray's
And worst of all contemplate whether
or not come wake of dawn should he
in fact
Come up and shine it's warmth
and light on that which is left and
doth still remain
Whence mornings mushroom smog
slowly clears and unfounded fear's
appear real
Sting forth dry burning tears from cotton
mouth's with jaw's dropped
And as no living flora is now left behind
a substitute then has to be sought
In order to whittle funeral wreath's and
so to new coronation crown's out of
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