Street lights in the clouds
Beneath my feet is heaven
Kiss me Africa
a two-second cukoo
transfers his earworm to me
and flits about his day
iconic
song fest fueling
nations’
hopes of vic’try
understanding grows
as diverse
cultures
greet, meet and
mingle
excitement
flows free with
each uplifting beat
inspiration soaring
as
contestants compete!
Lights glow
Songs flow
Smiles bright
Joy, Light
Games played
Pray’rs prayed
This night
World's right
Stoners of the world unite
Buds in hand let's sing a song
Someone please give me a light
I just filled my beaker bong
One-half of me seems right
the other half feels wrong
The next half is unsure
the fourth just sings a song
We live in troubled times
the world is upside down
It happens when both poles
trade their smiles for two frowns
You may think that I am dreaming
but I've seen these words before
I recall that they were written
by the world's first troubador
What if the world was a song
Would we all want to sing along
With such a happy little tune
That would make you laugh so soon
Or would it be a dark dirge
That would bring you to a teary verge
Maybe the world is too hopeless you know
And a song would be a difficult show
Could it be so hard to agree
To let things go and let it be
We have tried to do it before
But it fell apart for peace love and music forever more.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Marbled by aquamarine depths
Under rolling moonlit waves
Bellow haunting sonar echoes
Heard for miles and miles
Melodiously broadcast
Wondrous and mystical
Their enchanting tales
Of travel and adventure
Encounters and synchronicities
Thru bottomless lengths of seas
Graceful magnificent giants
Majestic they roam free
AP: 1st place 2025, 2nd place 2025, Honorable Mention 2021, Honorable Mention 2020
And the World wept
when refuge stories were told
with more than one million in camps
but were the tears genuine?
And the world wept
young nation of South Sudan
citizens de-humanized by ego-wars
but were the tears genuine?
And the World wept
aid given, words of hope served
on tables of those with lost hopes
but were the tears genuine?
And the World wept
at the images of starved refugees
powerful speeches, rolling tears
but were the tears genuine?
And the World wept
billions collected for refuge charity
Tear-filled charity for stolen lives
but were the tears genuine?
And the World wept
Did Africa weep with the world?
Does Africa stand on two legs in trials?
But are the tears genuine?
Donations and pledges, thank you
But will tears, charity redeem hatred?
Bird songs: melodies composed by eternity for to delight the soul of the ephemeral world!*
© Demetrios Trifiatis
17 May 2016
*I am writing on birds today for a special project!
People just don’t understand
Why I love you as I do
They think I am too intense
And perhaps, dear, it is true
But you see, Love, they don’t know
That you are the best of me
They simply cannot fathom
What your presence means to me
For you’re the living product
Of a love truly sublime
The precious witness of truth
Of two bodies that combine
You are the reason we hope
For the better things in life
The reason that we dream on
Of when daughter becomes wife
But not just for the future
You are why I face each day
Sometimes I want to check out
I know you want me to stay
I sometimes think that this life
Is much more than I can take
But I know I must go on
I survive for your sweet sake
As long as you need Mommy
As long as you need me here
I’ll invest myself in you
I pledge always to be near
You’ve seen the good and bad
You know the demons I fight
Yet you say that you love me
And my world is filled with light
So, dear, why do I love you?
Why do I keep going on?
In a world filled with sorrow
YOU are my heavenly song!
Let the Gypsy Fiddler play
a haunting melody
as we race blindly, through this life,
toward what is meant to be.
Let his fingers touch the strings,
his arm, control the bow,
as we seek love and happiness
in a world that tells us, "No".
So, play you Gypsy Fiddler!
Play with all your heart!
The echo of your melody
gave this love its start.
And when your song is over --
when you no longer play --
we'll have to pay the fiddler
and go our separate way.
The Gypsy Fiddler found us
a little bit too late.
But the way he played upon our hearts
was destiny, or fate.
He's in the final chorus now,
he'll soon complete the song.
Then we'll be called to live again
in a world we don't belong.
So, play you Gypsy Fiddler!
Play with all your heart!
The echo of your melody
gave this love its start.
And when your song is over --
when you no longer play --
we'll have to pay the fiddler
and go our separate way.
It wasn't my decision
I didn't have a say,
When the world became an ugly place
Night by night, and Day by day.
I was always busy
And had to work real hard,
I thought I'd left it up
To the so called ones in charge.
No it wasn't my fault
No one could ever blame me,
That our world is falling all apart,
And my main concern is me.
I did all I could do
Without causing myself pain,
I stayed within familiar walls
Watched it happen....rarely complained.
I never tried to make a stand
As long as I was free,
So put the guilt on someone else,
No way can you blame me.
Lynn Barany
....WHO LOVES AMERICA?
.......verse 1
Once upon a good time, not so very long ago
There was America, America the dream God used to know.
Where went America, that all the world loved so?
Once upon a time, not so very long ago?
Where went America, the one the world loved so?
......chorus
Who loves America the way she's meant to be?
Who still loves God's dream, from sea to shining sea? Shining sea?
Who loves America the world depended on?
Who loves America?
I can't believe she's gone.
God save America.
......Children Singing Bridge (Pledge of Allegiance)
I pledge allegiance to the flag
of the United States of America
and to the republic for which it stands
one nation, under God, indivisable
with liberty and justice for all
Repeat Chorus.
for Gertrud Widmayer, my landlady at Heidelberg
Why in pensive ticking, silent thoughts
You wile your time away
When all around huge swelling bells
Toll the days away!
Every hour that announced may go
Your silent hands take hold
And though the ages chimed in ears
Yours they never behold.
If all the clocks the world had known
Had struck one strong big note,
They would never still your plodding tone
Nor the working hearth you alert.
Do you wonder, wonder, little clock
What makes the grandfather tick!
Or his aching belly in the depth of sorrow
Cries to the world it's sick!
Thirty million years and Pleistocene dark,
They are one split second short!
And whimpering suns that rise and flop
Have scarce stolen your tick or thought!
So, my little clock, my faithful clock
When I hear the tall town bell,
I'll shrug my shoulders, one tiny moment
And know that all is well.
© T. Wignesan, 1957 (from the collection: Tracks of a Tramp. Kuala Lumpur-Singapore: 1961)
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