Latter life is special. Blessings come when visiting a parent. They are not a burden - those who raised you up, if indeed you had a good one.
My Dad is almost 88 and I am thankful he is still here. He loves his kids to visit, a good meal and is always thankful. I am thankful for him and also my husband who is generous to help me load and unload the car and join in with conversation. It has been 4 ½ years of almost weekly visits.
— by Poet
chatting:::cooking:::cleaning
praying:::eating:::clearing
washing:::gathering:::hugging
three
:::
different
:::
highways
:::
home:::sweet:::home
together:::alone:::separate
time:::goes so:::fast
Okra and ripe apple
Cucumber and tomato
Sweet potato and ripe pear
Banana with honey and mango
Pungent, white radish, and muskmelon
newspaper business has brought us far
to these territories where desert rivers
descend from huge clouds cultivated
but we live on twisted lips to build
something for those coming in
oh you who love this place
by the tourist book is a man
who loves a woman by
a guidebook of sex positions now
I can’t be
sharing
my body
with you
who’s now a shallow pool
though the room is offices
I can hear them panting now
his saliva wet every bedsheet
he’s your boss
your CEO
I’m quite
resistant
to reform
proposals
I’m a dumb rooster’s beak
pecking broken chunks of cheese
from every event
every moment is astonishment
and if I climb a roof
only left in the ruins
you’ll see my people
behind the sunlit bar
but my next neigbhour
who’s coming in
is a thief and the new label
on the beer we serve
I’m engaging him before
this place is bombarded
with that machine dogs
you have something to tell me
before afterglow
because I have a man’s feelings
you can’t buy it from me
that even they can’t hear
you will find me
still emerging
from a seed husk
in the throes of
a street war
I want to hear
watch my wristwatch
and what time is it
I cannot not tell you
though this is partly sunny
each laughter from the room
is that document
in a time of war
the evidence is happiness
we are deaf near the wall
all directions from the same place
don’t lead to the same place
that’s why you’re a butterfly
and I, a moth, but one family
the abandoned lawn
but I care about you
you need to know your battles
and how to choose your directions
there’s no true lovers
but just lovers who never change
so at this party morning
we create a situation
and you join us for the wedding
I just want to hold closer
I just want to whisper
a song to you
I’m finding
a strange way
to love people
all directions from the same place
don’t lead to the same place
that’s why you’re a butterfly
and I, a moth, but one family
the abandoned lawn
but I care about you
you need to know your battles
and how to choose your directions
party morning
and we have ascribed to you
your inapprehensible walking
except by lucky guess between
these hedgerows
in languages so far distorted
among dragonflies and flies
we are closed distance
as those houses missing
after the excavation
*
*
**
***
joy and pain
victory and defeat
hope and despair
exist
side
by
side
and
interwoven
in to
the
same
fabric
of life,
teaching us,
building us,
and
strengthening us.
thus
launching
us
higher
and
higher
in
to
loftier
space
Bell
Bell
ringing
through the morning
for a special service there
their families, have gathered
for their special wedding day at the church
outside of the church photos are taken
smiling
Joy
II
II II------------------------------------------I
II---- II drowning body | I----I----I
II II drowning mind | I----I----I----------
II---- II drowning soul | I----I----I
II II------------------------------------------I
II
“Living has yet to be generally recognized as one of the arts”
- Quote by Karl De Schweinitz
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I
N
F
A
N
C
Y
*
C
H
I
L
D
H
O
O
D
*
A
D
U
L
T
*
O
L
D
A
G
E
**********************
ETHICAL DILEMMA, GUILT,
COGNITIVE DECLINE, FEAR,
INSECURE, PREJUDICE,
VULNERABLE, LONELY,
DEPENDENCE, REGRET,
WISE CONTEMPLATION
I n.
l a
ove the oce
I sleep in wet sand.
My biggest fear is
a child's little hand.
You guessed my secret.
Don't ever blab.
Yours, sincerely,
riendly Sand Cr
F a
A b.
Specific Types of Shape Poems
Read wonderful shape poetry on the following sub-topics:
animals, christmas, death, dog, family, flowers, food, friends, funny, kids, kindergarten, life, love, music, nature, nursery, school, spring, winter
and more.
Definition | What is Shape in Poetry?