Mindful, Mindless, October Date
Michael Lee Johnson
Mindful of my lover
running late, as common
as tying your shoestrings;
I'm battered as an armadillos shell;
I put my bands around my emotional body
armor native to myself and walk like a stud in darkness.
Everything in October has a shade of orange you know-- a hint of witch and goblin.
In the leaves between my naked feet
and toes, as I pace my walk in the parking lot, I count them-- I count them color chart fragments and bites:
oranges, reds, still mostly greens.
Barefooted the time of the tear, the year-fragmented.
I am male battered in a relationship
tested without my testosterone
no sexual rectification or recharging
of my batteries needed.
I lie limp.
Native to myself--
mindless of my lover running late.
Then she arrives.
A LEGGY WOMAN!
By Ruth Walters
I’m black and I’m scary I’m fast and I’m hairy,
my legs are so skinny, my body is fat.
Most women hate me, their men folk all chase me
and then underfoot they make me go crack!
If I take a husband I’ll have lots of babies
and then when he dies I’ll eat him all up!
Well I’m not sentimental my head rules my heart
and I’d rather be single than hungry by far!
I’m a spider lets face it and though I could lace it
with fine woven webs from here to Hong Kong.
I’m a whore pure and simple I haven’t a dimple
and just like a pimple you’d all like me gone!
They said I shouldn’t care but I love you and you care.
They said I shouldn’t love but you came along and is killing me now.
They said I shouldn’t kill but if someone hurts me I won’t be able to stop myself.
They said I shouldn’t stop from doing things but I care so much that I’ll rather do nothing.
They said I shouldn’t waste time but taking a minute off feels so good because I appreciate what’s around me.
They said I shouldn’t like everything around me but you, you make everything beautiful.
They said I shouldn’t pay attention but I want to thank God every night for everything, the rest of my life.
They said I shouldn’t but I will if it feels right… and so they say.
YOU’D BEST BEWARE OF HOLLOWEEN
A Thought, a poem and a story
By Barbara Alyea 10-07
On any one night,,, of the week.
On any night,,,dark and bleak.
IF - you dare,,,to be seen,
You’d best beware of,,,Holloween.
You’d better try,,,to get home soon.
When the wind seems to howl,,,a strange tune.
Calling out every ghost,..and goon.
As they blow clouds,,,past the moon.
Making you feel,,,like your skin is bare.
Cold uneasiness,,,hangs in the air.
You’ll see it,,,in the shadows there.
And, you’ll feel it,,,with every step and stare.
So,,, if you are not,,, home by night.
And, you think,,, you have withstood the fright.
And, if you never again,,,see light.
We will just guess,,,what was your plight !!!
BY- CHANDANA SHEKAR
That lucky day..When you gave me a smile..
It took my breath away..As far as a mile..
Those words of yours..Which melted me hun..
As though i was just ice..And you were the sun..
With all your love..And all your care..
I just don't know..When days passed by..
When i almost thought..You were really mine..
You shared your life..With another woman..
I thought and thought..What do i do??..
It was no more 'us'..Just 'me' and 'you'..
I was ready to accept..That you will never be mine..
but you ruined it all..When you smiled at me again...
by Marla DiGiacomo
waiting I am
for your embrace
wallow I do
in a vacant place
the roar of
i am shining
in the light
of your face
frozen in the promise
that your kiss
will find me
BASHFUL little BIG BANG
by Peter Conet
Use your Body to Amuse Your Mind
Thoughts leave behind words to search in aether
...body waiting to get struck by lottery and lightning
Imagine Creating Combers frightening fantastic filled with Jonas and whales
While we're here let me share...
A personality is wind around the trunk and branches
pushing me over when of me its not scared
In autumn the leaf leaves in dramatic beauty
or clings brown and alone afraid to let go
and makes a scene come spring green
certainly these certainties are like steelcuffs calling your bluffs
Theres a good ghost glow will follow
those unafraid of pain and alien alightments
Theres a Good Ghost Glow will surround
those inverted temples and internal crowns
and those who leave lives to live untouched by your apocalyptic brush
but we all seem to reach the same conclusions.
WE are all red and gray furious decay
afraid to fail
Bashful to begin a new BIG BANG!
getting gods attention
beat this body around
point to pain
its how I chose to play this game
im awake, im Im... im not sure
True love is a dominate arrogant boring rock.
Romance is spectral vignettes
fucking through monotony fluctuating
creating and crashing creating and
crashing Waves rolling into themselves
riding a pony across an ocean crying in mud
because the pony drowned as you fought to free it
from its frightful death
and as you lay in muddy misery
another body comes and saves you from your pain by
Fucking you in the rain and spitting water on your lips
when the clouds strip a
sunbeam lights up your face and you begin again
with a new watch
in a new place.
Birds chirp in pain.
The universe is murderous.
Comfort and love are imagining and not ordinary
Eat warmth affection!
Sharks are the moons reflection
Fishermen the suns abused children
Rope burn cancer blots and guts about the bow
8 Seagulls circling drooling in exhaust smoke from the boat
And the water lifted
And the sky disappeared
And the land sank
And the center cracked
And IT was dispersed throughout space
And the universe was alone without wonder.
and the last summer grins cremated in a jug
and two of my dolls playing chess
in the larder...
and a butterfly clinging to my ear
and a naked little girl playing
in the sand...
and a gust of wind in my left temple
and a mild breeze in my right pocket
like a hum...
and all the cats and dogs from all the rains
and all the shoes that never find their way
and an acid shower pouring in my guts
and crying leaves of autumn
on the porch...
Driving Down The 405
David B. Hawkins
Driving down the 405
feeling great, feeling alive
changing lanes moving fast
lights reflecting off the glass.
cars to the left, trucks to the right
cars up ahead no opening in sight
downshift, tached up, slowing down
cranked the wheel found an end around
speeding down lane number one
merging cars are so much fun
jumped across to lane number three
someone blew their horn at me
clear road ahead back up to speed
shifting to overdrive in my metal steed
cruising now, un-impeded
I found the freedom that I needed
up ahead another pack
I swing to position, another attack...
Oh how I love driving the 405
feeling great, feeling alive…
This morning I noticed
While watching the rain
My dieffenbachia was dying.
It made me sad.
I thought to myself
had I been ignoring her?
Her green and white leaves
were dusty and yellow,
Not a good sign.
Nor had I talked with her,
Letting her know she was
Ironically, she was dry and
had not been watered
in quite some time.
Yet, all the while, it was pouring outside.
I walked over to her,
to apologize I guess.
I noticed the stem,
My poor dieffenbachia was hurt,
So was I.
Written by Andrea
Seeing you would make me non-stop fumble.
Just walking towards you, my feet would stumble
I loved your smile, this is when I felt your love
You were something like angel sent from above
I held your hand in moments of tragic fear
My heart feeling warmer, I'd wipe away your tears
I gave you space, I let you play your games
I never mocked you and you never felt ashamed
I wonder if you knew just how much I loved you
Ridiculously too much, just like you did too.
Remember how I told you my heart was now broken
I took a piece and gave it to you, this was my token
Depressed, anxious, sad, alone, this is how I felt
I looked to you with my solemn request for help
Of all the sweet times of which are now lost
There is now only one thing left for me to boast
You were not there when I needed you the most.
I still have the memories of those time
When you were there beside me all the time I still have those dreams in my eyes And there is no way I can get them out of my mind
I loved you more than anything I had
But I lied that day, and made a sacrifies It was so hard for me to lie But at that time I had no other choice I wish I could go back and do it all again But how can I do, without you I am so lame
I know its too late now for me to clarify And no action of mine can be justified Forgive me please, to come out of this guilt Forgive me my love, so that I can die now in peace.
Any Sign of Silence is Illusion
Twigs snap as cradle backed ants meet fast deaths
one foot, two foot, hunter orange bleeds its scent
squirrels chirp, breath lingers, joints crack,
any sign of silence is illusion
In the packed house of a tired brain electrons never sleep
as the woman from down under
sells bad poems to cheap minds
sailing souls across blue waters
at no charge....they'll never know.
they sigh, and claim their silence
as the echoes of their ignorance
head towards a nerf ball heaven
on a cloud of unabashed illusion
silence is a voice the poet loathes
and any sign of silence is illusion,
born of things they believe
they learned so long ago
Inside Angie’s wardrobe is a place of wonderment
It’s a place where she goes when life is too tough
and she’s feeling discontent.
As she opens its doors and walks inside
a magical world appears.
Her dreads drift away with the light of the day
as she loses herself in it’s spheres.
In her wardrobe there is a garden
with willow trees, flowers and streams
A place to escape all her problems
and live out her wildest dreams.
Bad things just don’t happen
inside the wardrobe there!
Angie wouldn’t let them,
she’d make them disappear.
Only her friends are allowed inside
and she feeds them on honey and wine.
She only comes out when the dinner gong chimes
for she cannot tell the time.
He was only consistent in his variation, And as he stood there in the station he knew not where he wanted to go.
But now confronted with decisions, overcome with pessimism, And full of self-derision, yet believed a man of vision, a man of forsight with no bounds, Suppressing inner-demons he's a traitor to his reason, much nearer lost than found, Yes he tries to fight his thinking, attempts to start resisting, But there will be no escaping, from his troubles unrelenting.
Unremarkable, unassuming, but they were unaware, Of what lay beneath his tattered jacket and sullen, vacant stare.
MY HURT IS WORTH THEIR HAPPINESS
My fear of feeling pain has made me cold I want to fall in love again before I grow old I'm so scared of the unknown I wonder if he'll ever know The pain he caused was so deep the nights I slept with no sleep the tears I cried all alone The nights I spent with no one home I gave him a treasure a piece of me a piece he did not deserve A piece I should have kept on reserve This man that I once loved is now someone I loath Are bed is cold and our children do not see There Mommy is hurt and it's because of there Daddy This silence I will keep threw there younger years For them I sacrifice my happiness for there's. . .
by Marina Vitagliano
Closing my eyes
Thinking it’s not you
The one she’s caressing
Code of past love
Still creeping in veins
Feeling the touch
Of her fingers
On your shivering skin
And on my bleeding flesh.
JOURNEY OF THE KINGS
I am lost.
This is known to Him, the lowest of the low.
Once gentle air now crushes each breath in distant soulless night-ache, then I became stripped of the ground.
I hopelessly cry out that he overlook my eternally shackled hands.
Yet He groans with diseased forgotten eyes, closed wide; They were thirst driven vultures in the blackened fire.
I lifelessly reached above the Hateful Mourner to numb the lost abyss of self-hatred, yet shackles tormented the Light; Rejecting my hallowed eyes, now filling with the blood of Millions...
...falling into the Dead Sea.
With vengeance the Stranded One claws at my Soul, lashing frantically at His own shriveled flesh, screaming the Psalm of Agony, frenzied as a Tameless Rebel.
Becoming one obscene wreckage, we desperately offer our hand to the starless night...
And then I turned my head, looking back for one last time...
There stood the One who Lives; he smiled, and i began to cry.
By Natalie Mallory
You wake up every morning to the
same dreadful feeling.
People say your just special
People say you’ll grow up.
But they don’t know how it feels to
Dread every day when you
Face your friends.
WHERE DID THE END BEGIN?
J. David Gannon Sr.
As I sit and wait for change,
I know that I have to refrain.
Seven times seventy and still I count.
A different horse I must mount.
How long must I live in this drought?
Rumors are swirling all about.
Absolutely we all say,
As we wait on that glorious day.
Spirits come and then they go,
trying to fill that ultimate role.
The Absolute Ruler is God’s Son...
Jesus Christ the begotten One.
WE DWELL IN HELL
By Jameel Heath
Eyes been bleeding now since birth,
bleeding more and more with every visit here to Earth, stone façade, never showing pain, kneeling in the wilderness, drenched in end-time rain, praying to the gods who haunt my dreams, losing sight of the line which borders all things sane, neverending life is the cause of all my strife, sweet Maria be my wife, sweet Maria be my wife, here in this hell, here in this cell, here where the difference between light and darkness is hard to tell, here where the truth is so hard to sell, here in this hell into which we fell, the eons upon my soul have been a story too gory to tell, oh well, and on we go, marchin down this road illuminated by flame, searchin a thousand haystacks for one name, like a moth drawn to the flame, to the hole at the center of this spiral, the One that calls my name.
“Our African American Son's”
Peri Lynn Thomas
The Doctor said "it's a boy", we felt nothing but joy.
As we met eye to eye, you gave us a beautiful smile.
In first grade your teacher said "He is a little hyper".
In second grade your teacher said "I see signs of a behavioral problem".
In third grade your teacher said "He has a behavioral problem".
In fourth grade your teacher said "He has a learning problem".
In fifth grade your teacher said "He is out of control".
In sixth grade your teacher said "There is not hope".
These labels followed you thru high school as you struggled to graduate.
With our hands tied behind our backs we watch as they verbally, mentally and
physically abuse you; damaging your self esteem.
Fear appears as they see you coming, unaware that from their unjust treatment
they created you into this angry and hostile person.
Now they ask “What is wrong with you”?
We see the hope, pain and frustration in your face as you struggle to succeed,
only to be held back over and over again by the system.
They set you up to fail, and then tear you down for failing.
You walk in disappointment with your head down.
You ask “Where is my dad to teach me how to survive these struggles?”
This same question your dad asked his dad and today we have no answers.
You just want to be a normal teenager having fun hanging out with your friends
but the system won’t allow it.
You have been arrested and convicted
for an offense that others are given a slap on the hand for.
Each time you leave the house we pray that you will not be the next
“oh it was just a mistake” victim.
A Son carries on his fathers name, we pray every day you make it that far.
Other parents dream that their son becomes president, a doctor or a lawyer.
Our daily dreams are that you survive the system; free, alive and well.
We have come a long way but the struggles are still there.
Today you ask “Why the struggles”? We have no answers.
Again, tomorrow we hope to say “that was yesterday; today is a brand new day”.
As we come together praying asking GOD for changes
we have to hold our heads up high and know that GOD is at work
and as we stand together change will come.
The world was so beautiful
God was so createfull
He created it, for the people;
but we've done nothing at all
This wonderful place are belong to someoneelse
People aren't know how to treat it, as a precious gift
You and I had the same previlege in the first place;
but someone are ignorance of threatening it
I've saw the gentle things he created
I liked everything of it,
All are purely masterpiece
Which are elegant and priceless
Someday he will get back the things he given to us
How we can tell him we vanished into ashed
I'm afraid someday this will be gone
And he will tell us "we are the abuser one".
Poems Copyright ©
designated authors 2007.
Page Copyright © AHApoetry.com 2007.
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