Poems Copyright ©
designated authors 2006.
Page Copyright © AHApoetry.com 2006.
Go check out the AHA Archives
for more poetry.
If you would like to send in your poem to Open Mic.
Go to the AHA!POETRY Homepage for new ideas.
Election Day, 2006
The Paper Boat Aju Mukhopadhyay
The paper boat I set adrift In my childhood On the flooded road Of a metropolis Has just arrived This rainy evening At my doorstep Under full sail Inviting me To set out on it For a nouvelle Adventure.
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AUTUMN A thought, a poem and a story by Barbara Alyea-Welches
The spinach is gone since early summer. The carrots were canned with the peas. The pumpkins are crowding the corn stalks. And, autumns about to freeze.
The leaves fall at my window. The willow still hangs down. The squirrels are gathering their acorns. As I watch autumn surround.
There is a crisp feel to the morning. Some fog lingers in the field. The summer flowers have all gone under. And, autumn to winter will yield.
The wind blows hard across the landscape. No longer the summer delays. There's a rustic look to the homestead. Cause autumn is brilliantly displayed.
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Incantation Cate Espener
Driftwood drifting on an open shore Return to me once more To glimpse your line and pallor
Determining your weathered age Approximation of my heart and mind No sage but love devoured Imagination as your only witness The waters draw you near, then farther still Across the vast unending crest
I sought you out without quest or reason A heroin without a path to dream upon Thus came I to a river of diamonds
And seeing your reflection glistening In a mirror of truth and deception Within a second you were gone
So I remained there perhaps a lifetime Darning glass threads Into each corner of the spirit
Searching for that everlasting glimmer To lead me back to you But you never came, and I never found you
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Echoes of the Eye by Bill Albright
No echoes on flatlands absent hills bouncing sounds
Sights seen reflected light shimmering heat blinding white
Scenes return again, again reminding the mind sights may send echoes of the eye
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It rained The best it knew October 20th 2006 As Judas finished his readers column This morning, 4.00am for me Still no sign of a silent kiss Of strangers in the night October 20th 2006 Symmetry wrote a final testament Prolonged admirably By the efforts of the heavy rain And so it sat evident In a puddle beneath my feet These years that passed me thinking - As I read through old beat anthologies I shed another tear, For the quiet day of October 20th 2006.
MICHAEL COLEY
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Zack Zoony And His God. Terry Collett
Zack Zoony, brother of a preacher, Husband of a down-trodden, Doom-laden, sour-faced woman,
Said,” If I could pack my God In a suitcase, I’d travel the world And preach His name and religion
Without a moment of hesitation. But he’s too big for that And I ain’t traveling the world
On my own for no one, not even the Almighty.” And, being a man of his word, And his wife’s labours,
He sat and watched the world go by And left his God to settle His own affairs.
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My Slug By Sophia Killeen age 8
My slug is slimy and sleek, He goes out every day to seek, Broccoli, lettuces, carrots and cabbage. In my garden it's savage.
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Dirty Mirror
by Jameel Heath
One soul coming to know itself,
mowing through time, dancing through space, I'm a piece of It locked in this case, I'm a laughing clown holding a gun to my own head, a solar warrior never allowed to be dead, in these eyes I see Horus returned to flesh, father and mother prepare to be wed, twenty cycles spent searching for the root, the root within that bears such wondrous fruit, the meaning of mystery, now comes the end of history, sitting on the ledge of a decrepit house, staring at a golden age across the lake of blood, my inner eyes already have seen such a flood, as the old lands sank into salty mud, sadness, sadness, grey and bleak, found my answers yet still I seek, you I love so much it stings, bruised and battered, so sweet and shattered, can't stop till we all have wings.
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My Veterans, I Remember We fought for freedom. We fought for life. We fought for our families, For our country and our belief, We fought. I wasn’t there, But my veterans were. For Pearl Harbor, For our World Wars. You fought. I was there for 9/11. And now we’re in war. Will there ever be a year Without it knocking on our door? I’ll fight. But now our fore-fathers’ dream Has been shattered, and discarded. Religious freedom taking away, Racism now has teams. This country was for freedom, Love, religion, and unity. Civil war will soon be here. Thank you for fighting for us. For this country, that some died for. This country should remember you. This country should be one, Not the political wars that tear it apart. My veterans, you fought. I feel your pain For each death, New and old of war. My veterans thank you. You were there, You helped raised this country, And you helped raise Our generations. But now you’re put away, To be forgotten. But, my veterans, When you all die And faded into history, I’ll remember you, my veterans. I’ll remember you all.
C91misty
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Class robert dunseth
Boring Work, friends Talk, listen, dream Smack on the table Awake -0-
Water cascading over the foot prints of man is eternity
the footprints of man suffer an indignity of a world they curse
man's soul lies neither in Earth or air or fire. It lives in the deep
sap of snowpine rise sheltering winsome graces accept forbidden
LMAnton
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"winter" anoymus 11 year old
winter is here now trees die; flowers wrinkle up bitter snow falling
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TODAY Marla DiGiacomo
crisp air harkens a time of rest cozy warmth resonating autumn's best
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Equation Cate Espener
Adding up the leaves From branch to ground And me In a slight season The exact amount
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The Ocean Nancy A. Jurinek
The ocean roars While men explore It's depths of history Brings forth its mysteries Of eras past That did not last The test of time Oh soul of mine Buried treasures Cannot be measured Entombed forever in the sea Where we cannot see The key to the past Buried with the mast Will we ever find the key? To life's great mystery
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Evil or Heaven??????? Bandung Nov 2nd 2006 Indri
He is the one who chartered my mind… I’ ve never stop thinking of him.. Second by second Minute by minute.. Hour by hour… Every single I take my breath… From the fake heaven I felt
I know the game… C/h/e/a/t and f/a/k/e
Tried badly to release my soul… Failed.. Failed… God help me…. Liberate me from him.. Haunted my soul Satisfaction like heaven…. Is He evil Is He heaven Answer me….
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LONELY OLD MAN
PRESTON E TAYLOR
My Wife and I went to town just the other day I saw an old man wandering on his way He was a broken down sorrowful soul This old man who had now grown quite old A blue toboggan cover up his ears He seemed out of place just wandering here I started thinking as I looked around Why was he wandering on the upscale side of town As I watched this old man almost taken over by time Some thoughts began to enter this poem writer mind Could his name be Charles, Bill, or just Hank I thought as he staggered by the town favorite bank And I pondered about all the riches in there As he walked by without a dime and no one to ca Then he wandered by the big furniture store But there be no help for a old man in there that sure With all there big recliners and big fancy beds This old man had not a place to lay down his head Then by the biggest restaurant he walk down the street But there be no compassion here and nothing to eat He walked by the doctor office my wife had went in there But no need for him to because he had no health care He walked by the town biggest church but it door was locked He'd tried there before but it big door was locked Then by the Pastor home given by the church No help here either because he always had to be first Even I offered no help and myself I now scorn So I thought the least I could do was mention him in my poem And I wonder when we stand before our maker just where will we be That Preacher that Banker and yes ever me Do we really believe we can all make heaven sweet home If were willing to let old men do with out and wander alone If you was to ask we'd all say we did all we can To help this poor sick lonely old man When you lay down to sleep tonight in your home Thank god you have a family and not wandering alone Are you really happy and content in the back of your mind And not one speck of guilt about this old man can you find If you was to say from guild about the poor your totally free Then you must be a much better man than me But try to remember these words if you can Their usually not much guilt in a self righteous man
Poems Copyright ©
designated authors 2006.
Page Copyright © AHApoetry.com 2006.
Go check out the AHA Archives
for more poetry.
If you would like to send in your poem to Open Mic.
Go to the AHA!POETRY Homepage for new ideas.