Unless | Angelica Fuse
I will be
yours until
the day
we expire
unless
you discover
my secret
plans
my control
panel inside
my alien
mind
or insist
on modern
decor.
original poetry
Thirty Years of Service | Donal Mahoney
Six a.m.
The alarm jigs
into him.
He, huge
on that huge bed, jerks,
rolls to the edge,
detonates his chest,
pours to the basin
on the floor
maroon and gray collections.
More at http://booksonblog12.blogspot.com/.
Forever Young | Walid Abdallah
My heart is forever young
A divine hymn to be sung
I love everyone and always forgive
As twice as I take, I always give
I try to be nice as possible as I can
Of peace and love I am a great fan
Life is short to waste in hate
Let tolerance be our only fate
Love people and nature around
Only the base of justice we must found
Leave good mark on each heart you meet
Let your nice memory your main good feat
Whenever you go spread love and affection
Be much nicer than people’s prediction
Treat everyone equally be always fair
Show everyone your respect and care
Being respectful is something you never regret
You will be rewarded more than you expect
We are on earth to make it a paradise
Listen to me and follow my advice
Dream big and complain less
Sadness never lasts and neither does happiness
Think positively and always be optimistic
You can’t change your fate by being pessimistic
Let live, love and learn your goal
Carve them deep in your soul
The heart that doesn’t know envy lives longer
It has better destiny and grows stronger
My heart is forever young
A divine hymn to be sung
Best Friend | Elysia Quidsten
Her eyes
They smile
Her lips
They move like a butterfly
Her kindness
Is impossible to explain
Her heart
Is wider then the world
She’s my best friend
And I’ll never ever let her go
Something Blue | Judy Moskowitz
A light breeze blowing
Thoughts remembered
Covering me
Not soft as a baby’s blanket
Or the pastel hues of sky
This blue dark as midnight
Almost turning black
Even as desert flowers bloom the grief of darkness
Has blocked the sun
On this spring day
Drawn into my own
Complexities of songs
Sung blue
Heard by few
Felt by some
Seen by none
I cannot bring back
What I never had
Passing the plate
Of gratefulness
I feel opaque
Drinking red wine
Remembering those
Missing at the table
He Contained Multitudes | Daniel Klawitter
Walt Whitman’s ambitions
were so large & ferocious
they filled an entire Kosmos!
Mine is a smaller gnosis—
a microscopic intuition,
a ghost almost imperceptible.
A poem that goes bump in the night.
My tiny poltergeist
of the philanthropic transaction:
Just watch me disappear
out of sight with satisfaction.
I am infinitesimal.
I contain so many subtractions.
More at https://about.me/dklawitter.
Leaders of Man – A Poem by Robert Zumbrun
Caesar was a Roman politician
Rome breathed life into Catholicism
Constantine legalized Catholic churches
Churches supported thrones of empires
Emperor Charlemagne rules over France
Charlemagne creates cursive alphabet
Cursive writing grows literacy
Writing paves way for ordinary man
Plain men write books, gain political strength
Caesar was a Roman politician
Poet’s Note:
This poem is written using a new poetic form named Veritalifasm. The rules of the form are as follows: 10 line poems, 10 syllables per line, each line has to make a factual or truthful statement, each line must refer back to or reference something from the previous line, line nine must also reference something from line one, Line ten repeats line one (this brings the poem full circle).
Not a Word Spoken – A Poem by Michael Kagan
A string quartet fills the kitchen
The cello’s bow played through
An heirloom sugar bowl’s sweetness
The harmonic strain so perfect
Makes the pain go away
Not a single word need be said
The sound of the rousing marching band
Flows through the veins of
My narrow halls
Trombones sliding pock marks into plastered walls
Crisp apple cider of this
Trusted music causing my
Knees to kick up the speed
Keeps the pain away,
Words are never spoken
And that funky jazz combo
In my living room
Made themselves a cozy cat’s Home
Cat-nip lines playing tic tac toe forward rhythm flying high
Notes silver shimmer in space until they fade
And beauty does die,
This music ties the earth to my feet
Reaches in, making love
To my heart,
Reflects the invention’s own brand of pain
Pushing other deep aching
Aside
And it speaks without using words
If ever spoken
Would
Rip me open
Exposed to the
Terrifying light.
The Abyss | Eli
Mom grab my hand pull me out of the abyss of depression
Abyss definition chasm gorge bottomless pit just a few words to
describe depression
Mom… Mom I miss you you don’t how much I miss the old memories
Wanna sit here and look through pictures?
Listen to music and talk?
Listen to my problems? I’ll Listen to yours I promise!
Wanna walk to the park? How’s your day going? Mommy How was work? I’m staring at an empty chair and asking these question but why
I miss you
We used to be so close but I’m weak I slipped into this Abyss I know you slipped into a nasty habit but you can break it
You are stronger Mommy
Just stop leaving
Just stay and leave the world behind
Can you help me out of the abyss? If you help I’ll help you break your habit oh wait you don’t know your problem yet
No you are going out to have another drink that’s fine I’ll sit here… I’ve been waiting so long I’ve got scars now because I thought you left… oh you are going out again okay that’s fine don’t look at my wrist please mother I’m ashamed… it’s just fear and sadness I’m weak mom! I promise to never show you my sadness I promise I’ll never show you my scars they are a sign for the weak
The Breeze And Sugar By The Almanac's Forgotten Gates – A Poem by Richard William Kirkpatrick-Thorne
If Every Soggy Optimist Be An Optometrist,
Then Every Man’s Eye Would Be A Land,
A Crown Property Staked Through By The Pound And Kennel,
With Every Bite Wizened Against The Jerking Strop,
To Sharpen And Polish The Flinching Blur,
And Settle The Charts For An Easy See,
As Age Could Define A Spine For Its Crook,
Laboring Beside The Horse’s Heir For Nativity,
As Gulliver Be Dub’d A “Livingston”…
…
An Honorary Title, I Presume…
…
For The Hooks And Chords To Lead And Bind,
UnNerveingly Through One’s Field Of Vision,
Patiently Smug In Patent Weathers For The Freeze Framed,
Jack-Rabbit Punch Buggy… Coughing Out Expletives And Spitting With
The Salt Flats,
Gideons In Their Invisible Hospitals… Cushions For Cheating
SalesMen…
…
Arrangements Of Clay Jars On The Rush For Gold Fillings,
Royally Filled With CareFull Orchestrations…
…
…
Dust… Tears… Saliva…
…
…
All Is Secured By Tipping The Scales WithIn A Happy Dream Of Rulers,
As Its Optimists Turn Life’s Fogs InSide Out,
A Blind Lunacy They Embrace With The Leash’s Loop,
And Raise The Lens To A Miracle Of Sextants…
…
In Every Black Hole… A Circus… A Dinner With Old Friends…
…
Then…
…
The Circus Is The Hole… And Its Diners With Mouths That Lack
Utensil…
…
But, That…
…
That Was AllWays Just A ColorFull Walk In Its Balloon-Filled Park,
Running With The Frisbees And Ducking.
More at http://rwkt.blogspot.ca.