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Without You I Am Everything - A Poem by Paul Tristram - Dive into the Depths of Contemporary Voices

Without You I Am Everything – A Poem by Paul Tristram

Boundary walls and prison fences
crumbled down and fell apart.
The Gothic Chapel
which was forever preaching
‘Doom’ and ‘Gloom’
and its ‘Woe, Woe & Thrice Woe’
took down its dusty old, heavy curtains
and opened up the stained-glass windows
for a Spring-clean jumble sale.
I noticed beautiful, multi-coloured
wild flowers popping up everywhere
in the once shadowy graveyard.
Song birds reappeared
from their long, Winter migration.
The orchards once more became bountiful,
not quite overnight,
yet quick enough for wonderment.
There was nothing for it but to eat fresh fruit,
instead of doubt and humble pie for a change.
I dared look at my own reflection, un-timidly,
and saw that my eyes once more had colour.
The Land’s currency was ‘Smiles’
and no kindness or act of good faith
was ever too much trouble
and always rewarded three-fold.
But, best of all… the Clocks,
returned to a proper, functioning speed, at last.

More at https://paultristram.blogspot.co.uk/.

Talking out Loud - A Poem by G. S. Katz - Dive into the Depths of Contemporary Voices

Talking out Loud – A Poem by G. S. Katz

I went off booze for a little while
Clarity was okay
I prefer boozing though
Not like the old days
When getting drunk was a given
This is more of a social thing
Meet a friend for a few beers at happy hour
Seeing more and more geezers like me there
NYC is like London where the pub is holy
I always preferred my whiskey without mixers
Now I’m starting to merge left
Aging thing?
I don’t know
Thinking retirement in 18 months
My brain is soggy from repetition
Articles say get out early if you can
Tough to pull the trigger on income
That’s why there is the booze factor
To dull down the chronic thoughts of despair
A happy hour is just down the road
Pretty girls and writing poems at the bar
Pen and paper
Who does that anymore?
Talking out loud
This cowboy ain’t dead yet
Still got some fences to mend on the north 40
A cold one waiting in the balance

My Garden - A Poem by Roy Pullam - Dive into the Depths of Contemporary Voices

My Garden – A Poem by Roy Pullam

The ground breaks
The black soil
Burying the grass
Like the flip
Of a pancake
The rototiller digs
Shaking my shoulders
Like a 60s dance
The plot having rested
From September
Through the long winter
Holds stubborn
As if to deny my ambition
In my mind
I see hills of tomato plants
Heavy with fruit
The rich red
Announcing their readiness
For salads
For sauces
The perfect addition
To a sandwich
But the time
Between the planting
And the harvesting
Will test my patience
The curse of a man boy
Checking each day
For the progress
The worry
That some rabbit
Will feast
On my future delight
It is a torture
To anticipate
To almost taste
The sweetness
And the slight sour
That comes
With the end of summer

A Walking Talking - A Poem by JD DeHart - Dive into the Depths of Contemporary Voices

A Walking Talking – A Poem by JD DeHart

Signal to me that
the hearing did not construct
sign language for your words,
it was no gesture on the part
of a hegemony to offer apparatus.

A walking, talking
entity, a personhood, just like
me, we establish our meaning,
it won’t be held back.

Whether I paint on the wall,
raise a finger in gentle swoop,
or shout from a high place,

A sentence gathers us together,
a chain of syntax.

Last Thursday in May - A Poem by J.K. Durick - Dive into the Depths of Contemporary Voices

Last Thursday in May – A Poem by J.K. Durick

Easy days, like this
I’ve become used to them

Easy days, restful days
nothing to prepare
nothing left to finish up

Easy days, quiet days
no urgent phone calls
no snail mail, no emails
wanting this or questioning that

Easy days, lazy days
getting up late, eating late
reading novels, watching TV
every item, every move
an end in itself

Easy days, like this
restful, quiet, lazy
reasons to go on are gone
phone calls, mail from no one
going nowhere – gone

Easy days, like this
I’ve become used to them
I’ve mastered them
nothing left to do
but this.

Thee & Me - A Poem by Paul Tristram - Dive into the Depths of Contemporary Voices

Thee & Me – A Poem by Paul Tristram

We are not made from the same mould.
Our scars and tattoos do not match up…
only our hands,
clasped determinedly against the word,
by our ‘Stronger Together’ sides.
Your compassion and my empathy
go together
like midnight campfire beer and cigarettes.
… and it’s hard not to notice
that the forest wind
always drives around
yet, never between us.
I have a Tinker’s mandolin for a heart
whilst the depth of the entire ocean
is eclipsed by your logical mind.
You are the safety catch
to my double-barrelled emotions.
I am the twilight lightning
which cracks and ignites
the touch paper
of your sweet, passionate abandonment.

More at https://paultristram.blogspot.co.uk/.

Life in Black and White - A Poem by Roy Pullam - Dive into the Depths of Contemporary Voices

Life in Black and White – A Poem by Roy Pullam

Milestones like pages in my life
Flip as I read them
Often I revisit pages
That have special meaning to me
It is an incomplete story
A life
Filled with fiction
Opinions I had
At that time
With tragedy and heartbreak
But never
Enough romance
Still always passion
A caring
A wide-eyed enthusiasm
For what was in
The next chapter
I have not written
The epilogue yet
Searching my imagination
For a proper ending

Don’t Bow Down - A Poem by Paul Tristram - Dive into the Depths of Contemporary Voices

Don’t Bow Down – A Poem by Paul Tristram

No one is above you!
Unless you put them there
or willingly let them
take that crown
right off your own head.
You were born
with every ingredient
needed
to be king of your own day.
Sycophants
sell themselves cheap,
backbones must be earned
not bought.
Let no one put a leash
around your throat…
especially yourself.
Dare to glare
into your own eyes
after each wrong step
you humanly take
along the way.
Learn, adapt, evolve,
focus upon your ‘Nice Side’
instead of battles
necessarily fought.
Have pride unique from arrogance.
You are both
‘The Pauper and the Prince’
of your own amazing soul.
It’s up to you, alone,
which role you will take.

More at https://paultristram.blogspot.co.uk/.

Vowing - A Poem by JD DeHart - Dive into the Depths of Contemporary Voices

Vowing – A Poem by JD DeHart

Knowing what a vow
means. What change
means. Writing a manual
of how to grow.

Promises are easy to
mutter in heaven’s ear,
discussions of reality
as corporeal as dissecting
imagined clouds.

But I have begun
to cast promises in stone
or clay. Making vows
set in a rigid cast. Wanting
my word to carry weight.

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