As i stood with my toes digging in the warm sand and cold waves washing them, i inhaled the salty air and stared at the golden sun, its beauty shining upon me and below it the never-ending sea.
As the wind blew i opened my arms
feeling like an eagle taking flight,
feeling like every problem, guilt and sadness encountered in life was all washed away.
As i closed my eyes i thought...this is home this is peace.
In the summer you can...
Swim a lot if you're hot. Ride your bike if you'd like. Find a pool to keep cool. Go to the beach with your dog on a leash. Read a book and get hooked in a cozy nook. Wear shorts and go in a fort. Face it, it's summer and it's going to last and of course, i'm having a blast.
ALONE Katherine Hunold
Alone Is where I thrive. I am complete In my solitude. No one to boss me around I am free. The quiet envelops me, I let it shroud me in comfort. I feel home When not a soul is around. Free to do whatever I choose The feeling is unbelievable. I cannot even describe the Exhilaration. Tremendous ecstasy Knowing that I am by myself. There is so much joy in being Alone.
EAT. BUY, CONSUME, DIE Murray L. Driftmier
Eat, Buy, Consume, Die! Don’t you ever question Why? Work, Sleep, Work some more; What the Hell is it all For?
In life’s journey to the grave – Its value’s based on what you gave! When all your days are finally gone, Will you be ready to pass on? Or will you cry “It’s been a waste! Of life I’ve hardly had a taste!”?
Cry, crawl, walk, expire To be thrown upon your pyre. Learn your needs from your TV – It’s of no use if it is free!
In life’s journey to the grave – Its value’s based on what you gave! When all your days are finally gone, Will you be ready to pass on? Or will you wonder where it went - All of this time and effort spent?
Sing! Dance! Get Involved In Life, In Love, in problems solved! Open up your heart, your mind; A whole new world is there to find!
In life’s journey to the grave – Its value’s based on what you gave! When all your days are finally gone, Will you be ready to pass on? Ice to water, then to steam Another phase beyond this dream.
-0- Lemonade Stand Autumn Pena
Having a lemonade stand is quit lovely
On hot summer days people running
Down the road coming up to are stand I
Can see them sweat and saying that they are hot I might say would you like a glass of lemonade it is fresh!
When they hear me squeezing the lemon or even when the ice touching the glass cup when I drink it I can feel it going down my throat Lemonade will cool me off on hot days
Chocolate Tracy Martini As I unravel the goodness Heavenly bliss I am overcome I bite in Leaving behind teeth marks To mark Where I have been, Where I am going I swim In a sea of brown, creamy CHOCOLATE I float on a fluffy white cloud A sky So brown, so rich As I swallow I return to my starting place Awaiting the next bite
WHO AM I
TYRONE W. BOWERS
WHEN I LOOK IN THE MIRROR, A QUESTION COMES TO MY MIND THAT QUESTION IS “WHO AM I”?
I AM A BROTHER, A FATHER, AN UNCLE AND EVEN A SON I AM THE ONE CARRYING A BIBLE NOT A HANDGUN I HAVE THE COURAGE TO STAND UP FOR WHAT IS RIGHT AND TO ALWAYS TO DO GOOD I HAVE TO POWER TO LOVE EVERYTHING, WHETHER YOU LIVE IN THE SUBURBS OR THE HOOD I AM THE ONE WHO STANDS BY MY GIRL, IN GOOD TIMES AND BAD I AM THE ONE WHO WILL RAISE MY CHILD THE BEST THAT I CAN I AM THE ONE WHO WILL NOT BE ASHAMED TO SHED ANY TEARS WHEN I AM HAPPY, SAD AND EVEN WHEN I AM SCARED I AM THE ONE PERSON WHO WILL DO MY FAMILY NO HARM I WILL ALSO BE THE FIRST TO ADMIT WHEN I AM WRONG SO THE NEXT TIME THIS QUESTION COMES TO MY MIND THESE ARE THE ANSWERS THAT I WILL REPLY AND IF YOU ASK ME THIS QUESTION, TO YOU I WILL TELL I AM A YOUNG, BLACK AND STRONG MALE
I gaze at the field, Just above the water. With soft, bright, daffodils. Bordered by warm marigolds, Beaming like the sun.
Scorching poppies, Layer the marigolds, Vanishing into calm violets, Stroked across the field, Transforming into a sunset.
Life in hard times
In the blink of an eye, life has changed completely it use to be good times, having fun in the sun now its about life turning around and stabbing you in the back hate lives all around, jealousy, and lies surround me I feel as if i have fallen in a trap that god has set up for me As if he's playing a game with my life Testing my ability to control my emotions The good times have become a vague memory the days go by slowly with little or no amusement life's mysteries have become more and more of a confusion Good and right begins to get hard as my mind is filled with disrupting thoughts I know not why i am forced to live like this life as if it were not even a life
FATHER, GRANDPA IS GRAY AND GREEN Chidozie Ihebereme
Father, Grandpa is gray and green His mouth has the tears of blue mosquitoes, blood-sucking gods ravishing his being.
Father, grandpa is young and old Was he stolen by the greed of time whose belly shivers, overfilled with drunk gold watching with painted eyes, beating like guilty hearts too scared of a spoiled blood?
Oh, father look at him! He’s a keg of palm wine yeasted by our fronds’ fake tears, glutton eyes, leeches licking life out of their legs.
Father, Grandpa is gray and green while mothering mustards laugh their fill stealing all the sins stored in Satan's dustbin. They can't have their fill.
by Jameel Heath
standing silent a mile high,
right fist held jealously to my chest,
eyes stare defiantly toward the west,
verily, verily my soul doth dry,
I have the answer for all your whys,
the chain begins with that indescribable One, one of It's eyes is the sacred Sun, eternaly upward we must fly, a new frontier is always there, I find them floating in the air, and codes keep coming from that eye, I can fly! I can fly!
up into the deepest darkest space,
a road-map lies under the guardian's face, I'll call it open before I die, Aquarius fills his gills with Cybele's breath, stearing clear of the hungry one called Seth, looking for the new world soon to rise.
DUCK SOUP 2 By Terence Bell
Harpo Marx makes a telephone pitch to Tony Blair:
So sorry Mr Blair, to hear you're planning to retire. I've got a proposition that'll set you right on fire. Remember in the thirties, when I was all the rage? Yeah, I had some brothers. We acted on the stage. There was a film we did though, probably the best; The setting was Freedonia, Yeah, Duck Soup, you guessed. So you know the plot then; a build-up to a war. Hey now, take it easy, you ain't heard THIS before: I'm gonna do a sequel, and shoot it in Iraq, It's ready-devastated, we'll save a goddamn stack. I've hired us a Chico: That Berlusconi guy. Got just the perfect accent is the simple reason why. The Italian Prime Minister - wasn't that a coup? He's learning the piano; got nothing else to do. I'm keeping on my old role, you know I hate to talk. You'll be playing Groucho. Buy plenty of burnt cork.
Endless thoughts derived from nothing A mind uncertain and derailed A train of thought no longer traveled Apathy will soon prevail
Answers to questions no longer asked Buried deep within caverns of the mind A faint vision once held now embraced by darkness What is it that I'd hoped to find
Beyond imagination lies true reality One we may not see or hear Alone and withdrawn lies the one who dares To look beyond what is safe and near
An endless search for what I seek To give up and to fail is one in the same Fear of a life so placid and meek Accepting defeat in shrouds of shame
Alive though lifeless Asleep but awake No home in this world Full of that which is fake
Those Dreams On Sleeping -Lys Anzia
We crawl. Sometimes we sit. These are the years they call history. Those moments not to be forgotten. America where are you? I have waited for you as a bird waits sitting still out there on that limb of a lifeless tree. It's been a long time waiting sitting still. Our history is going to tell us what happened to our heroes. Where are they hiding now? Lost somewhere in those dreams on sleeping.
GREGORY JOHN BERNARD
it washes and spins and seductively winks at you sometimes if you listen deep it whispers your name like the breeze through the pines
it cradles you and embraces you and rocks you through the night only to abandon you in your dreams dissipating with the sunrise walk further along the mountains path upward to the crest and yell your passions to the clouds and it will respond a change of style in a spiral skywards drawing you closer to the creation of wisdom and time
and great alliances of myth and folly collide like atomic particles in a rusty tin can always alive and metamorphing in season without a finger print or motive or device
it will call you and please you and send you on your way a little more wiser and confused at the same
Xenia Zanov. Terry Collett
Xenia Zanov, cute of brain, Large of breast, daughter Of a commissar, now defunct,
Whom Stalin mentioned once, In a letter long lost and forgotten, Sits astride her latest lover
Pounding with her muscled thighs Until the lights pour from his eyes, Thinking of her mother, Olga,
Who lies buried in frozen tundra In the icy north where day is short And the night, like death,
Lingers forever near and close at hand.
An Attempt At Friendliness Derek Mahon.
I look up to see a child riding her new push bike, she glance over proudly, smiles and removes her right hand from its bar to wave at me.
I wave back, my face attempting to summon the least awkward look from its range and continue the search for my car, buried somewhere beneath a vehicle shaped mound of dirt.
Across the street, behind the shimmer of an inquisitive curtain, an old woman - tabloid literate "And with grandchildren of my own, you know" shakes her head and scowls at me. Like i've committed a crime.
CHEATS AND LIARS (C)Jude Adebosoye Ogunade Some of them may be chiefs In fact most chiefs are thieves Uncaught, kept and abated by fraternities Causing havocs among humanity
Some may be lawyers Uncaught, kept and abated by fraternities Cheats and liars they are Killing humanity
There are cheats and liars Some may be engineers And some medical doctors Yet, they are cheats and liars
Just because they want to appear better Richer and prosperous than others They maim millions for the sake of millions Millions in ill-gotten currencies
Few may be farmers And fewer may be teachers Yet there are everywhere Cheats and liars!
Time Is Relative Linda Bond
"I can tell the time," she said. "By tick and tock and train and bus. The school bell breaks the day into chunks. I can tell the time" she said.
"I can tell the time," he said. "By sun and moon and wind and rain. And birth of lamb and swell of grain. I can tell the time," he said.
They nearly didn't meet and when they did He was late and she was stressed.
"You've wasted my valuable time," she said. "Time doesn't rule," he replied, "it .... defines."
To my Grandma. Stefano Rossi
Your door is always locked. Why your hands, Big yesterday, Small today, Aren’t uncertainly holding mine? Collected on a ledge your flourished crockery Are telling me you’re not anymore? What will be now the destiny of the immense secrets Whose you were the door and my dreams the key Beyond the hedge, at the bottom of the stairs. Why didn’t you leave me one last little word? I was sleeping, I was still sleeping. I came today with her To talk to you ,but your door was locked. I know you’re not here anymore But like those times it seemed to me To hear the rustling of your feet, the sound of the key Through that half-opened wood, I saw u again, In the immense.
Salve Regina, Miss Pretty Sang. Terry Collett
Salve Regina, Miss Pretty sang. And being a good and catholic girl, Except when lapped with Tom or Dick
In bed or in some lonely spot, She eyed the plaster cast Madonna high, Which, being unmoved by words or such,
Stared out across the church’s pews, With painted eyes of icy blue, Which, seeing it was cold and dark outside,
Moved Miss Pretty to some degree, And being tired of mind and eye, She thought she saw the Virgin wink,
Or was it just her own? she mused Crossing herself from head to breast. She never knew, but the eyes were a lovely blue.
Three day John Nelson
I know you have gone through many, but so much Pains. Take courage and be strong, your mind in wisdom train. view the world with your heart,in love you always retain. Proper view, delights the mind, and sorrow refrain.
Have you ever wonder, why the birds sweet sing? Or why they permeate the air, but have wings? It is because they are part of a natural world, And Created this way, to spice up, our unmoral world.
We all, in our live, have three, but important days. when we are cognizant of it colored, we get a better rays. But, it is not always easy to find, or yield a better way. When we fight a good fight, we may always pleasure lay.
when, our yesterday is mess up and pointless, use today to repair and strengthens yesterday stress. and when, you don’t know what tomorrow will actually wage, use today in every way to prepare for tomorrow gage.
'BUS OF DEATH' SHEY KENNETH MBOE TAKE ME OLD, WHEN I CAN'T DO WORK ON MY OWN' WHEN THE WORLD IS TIRED OF MY BURDEN, AND THEIR NOISE FRIGHTEN'S MY SPIRIT' TAKE ME OLD' WHEN MY BONES START CRACKING, WHEN MY BODY STARTS FOLDING, AND MY TEETH STOPS BITING. TAKE ME OLD, WHEN MY TONGUE CAN'T TASTE SALT OR SUGAR, AND MY EYES KNOW NOT WHITE OR BLACK, WHEN MY EARS CAN'T DISTINGUISH THE SOUNDS. TAKE ME OLD, WHEN THE MAGIC ON MY MIRROR DISAPPEARS, WHEN MY HAIR CHANGES ITS COLOUR, AND THE STRENGTH OF MY CHARMING SMILE IS GONE. TAKE ME OLD, WHEN THE HOSPITALS NEED ME MOST, AND THEIR DRUGS WON'T CURE ME WELL, TAKE ME,TO HEAR THEIR PROMISES. TAKE ME OLD, WHEN I'M TIRED OF WATCHING THE MATCHES, NOT ABLE TO DISTINGUISH THE TEAMS, NOR SHARE IN THE JOY OF THEIR VICTORY. TAKE ME OLD, WHETHER WITH GOOD DEEDS OR BAD ONES, OR HAVE COME TO THE END OF MY DREAMS, TAKE ME, WHEN I'VE LOST MY WORTH. PLEASE TAKE ME OLD, IN SAD MOMENTS OR IN JOY, KNOWING NOT WHERE I GO, BUT TAKE ME, AT THAT MOMENT, WHEN I'M FREE TO GO.
NEW GENERATIONS By Jocelyn Owens
Today new generations walk by, becoming young women and men. Medicine women and medicine men give them herbs, and teach them rules of life. Parents wave a tear-jerking goodbye before their journey. The Chief, steadily growing riser as he watches new generations rise.
Medicine women and medicine men give them herbs, and teach them rules of life. Remembering when they took their first steps, their parents being overjoyed. Parents wave a tear-jerking goodbye before their journey. In a blink they will be elders, their belief in Anasazi will be great.
Remembering when they took their first steps, their parents being overjoyed. When they unsteadily walked to the horse, and bent down to stroke the wolf. In a blink they will be elders, their belief in Anasazi will be great. You'll just have a moment to cradle them in your arms.
When they unsteadily walked to the horse, and bent down to stroke the wolf. Parents wave a tear-jerking goodbye before their journey. You'll just have a moment to cradle them in your arms. Today new generations walk by, becoming young women and men.
ON COLERIDGE -Amit Shankar Saha.
The picture of a great artist Who paints his mind's delirium, Whose paints are as unclear as mist, Whose brush has consumed opium, Whose canvas is smoky and rough, Whose art is blonde obscurity- No horizon is wide enough, A canvas to paint your beauty.
THE WINTER MOON BY NATALIE
All to soon, the winter moon glints through your window at night sending shivers through your body making you delve deeper into your duvet
so its chill cannot bite you the winter moon , its slender shape like a sweet lullaby it rocks in the air its hollow face staring down at you but within a few hours its gone replaced with the winter sun all to soon
The Silence (by Matthew David Ward)
We grasp at the silence When we have lost it all Praying it’s the voice of God To save us from the fall
Death is all too easy Surviving the challenge here Standing tall to face tomorrow And never show your fear
I have walked through the desert Just to melt from the heat I swam the deepest ocean Just to drown underneath
I have long since abandoned faith For its face I never knew What use is something so transparent I pray to know truth
And yet I grasp for the silence Hoping for the lone reply Maybe this time it will come Some voice from the sky
IMITATION IN SLOW MOTION Nicola J. Steel
“Honey-pot holes in a sycamore tree and gum drops on minted leaves, that worship the graceful gold that smiles upon life.”
Sugar coated stretches of the truth – imagination. Conventional structures In rhythmic letters Are implied as beautiful and Significant, more so than In short sighted vision.
“Delighted sensations of melt in the mouth creamy textures, and the fragrance of summer in a hand held bunch.”
Those sensuous gifts are offered in a sincere gesture of affection – although not as aromatic nor extravagant as depiction perceives it. The connecting emotion may be Equal or greater than the wordiness Of penned thoughts, yet the reality Is bland, cliché, and overlooked.
Portrayal of what the poetic Mind, and eyes feel, is something that can only be revealed as an imitation in slow motion.
the mouth of babes,
what I have heard,
my daughter talea,
decided to learn,
first I learnt nothing,
I, was still too fast,
past and future think
time, I slowed me down,
relaxed, playful, pleased,
then also I,
even the pictures,
sounds of words,
used to fly over,
type at high speed
discovered language, too be,
flight from now,
into the past,
being is called,
book is for free,
and for, whole being
now, is see
Definition By Rose Stringer
Empty Spare Never used Lonely We take our rooms for granted We use them or we don’t We have feelings, so do they There just like you and me Contrasting there colour Contrasting our lives Never tell me a room is plain You doubt them They doubt you
Fix this. What is there to fix? My soul thrives on completion, however, is perplexed with complication. The infinite possibility of hope, aspiration and a dream comes once a day when all of my solar energy rests in its lonely place. Too anxious to find a commonality, I struggle for an unwanted answer in hopes of curing this confusion within my writing.
Daily alignments circle throughout my universe and mix a curry of splendor and spice. There is not a day that I do not think about the joys of healing and ways in which I want to win. I am unspoken for yet feel compelled to the obligation of others. Quite a stir, isn’t it? Crazed, with an unruly heart, I pray this voice of uncertainty will subside and the arches of reason will immerge.
It is an honor to write with such integrity and grace. For the likeness of others, I create a passage that guides to a universal light. Why am I in the same disposition you may ask? Maybe it is because I am unwilling to take a chance. To live life on the fast lane would mean limitless opportunities, both bright and blurry. To become over the edge would mean to indulge with grief or consequence. I myself have done both the two and my outcomes have been more than less worthy.
Today, I write to embark on a clearer vision.
CAMOUFLAGED BY LIP SAI LIN
NECK " CRACKED "
BACKBONE BECAME STIFF
WHAT A HARD DAY
WHAT A LONG JOURNEY
WHAT A CAMOUFLAGED WORLD
THE LIVING PRETENDS TO BE DEAD
THE DEAD WILL WAKE UP
RIGHT INTO YOUR FACE
THE WICKED PRETENDS TO BE KIND
THE KIND WILL ATTACK
TO BE CONFRONTED
FACE TO FACE
SONG OF THE BROOK
by Susan Abraham
Can a beautiful gushing brook gather
its skirts like a noisy woman
bent on fits and starts
to rustle up her garment and brace up her laces like she had lost her way from a wayward start...
I say, I say!
Can the watchful trees and polished rocks turn their backs on a shiver from a ripple when the water shoots up a merry dance all supple...
In the end, I'd say my friend, just not today, And if you want some action from a make-believe tavern Come back for a slip-up splash, all grand and up for a bang some other kind and silent day.
Can't you see, Through green mystery, Subdued forms and, No-one storms where, Sign posts whither; Walk hither thither and, Stroll in last. Forget the past; No could or should, Just Wormwood. Pseudonyms and, Forgotten whims. Go riddle my mind and, Fall behind. It's him or me well, We shall see. Laugh and splutter but, Mind that gutter. Another drink? now, Let me think.....; Yeah, why not as, Oblivion's got, Some discretion so, Who's to question?.
When you come home I want to hide under the floorboard. I sit here hoping, praying to my Lord. “God, please let him be sober, let there be no yelling.” God never answers my prayers, Dad You are always drunk, and always mad. This is something I have to say It should have been said before today. You love drinking more than us. You come home just to cause a fuss. Well this is what I want to say: GO AWAY You make me think I hate you I find that it may be true You cause my family so much pain You’re words they fall on us like acid rain. My mother she deserves better than what you give. Leave her alone; give her a reason to live. You make my mom feel guilt, pain, and sorrow. She can’t even hope for a better tomorrow. We know that you can’t stop. Just don’t hold us back; daddy let us reach the top.
Please Daddy stop drinking Kels Trebuh
“Lost in A Cardboard Box” stephen holmes Life, life in a quandary Hungry for just a morsel from the tree of knowledge, Unable to comprehend the stories of your ancestors Luck, I’m not a friend Good fortune, I’m not a friend. Happy, I’m not a friend. Incapable to hear or understand anything…….but the wind. No point of origin, no destination. Just blowing. Lost in a cardboard box. 72 years. Wondering how to assemble it. How can I be just common? Breathing a gift and exhaling appreciation. Over and over and over. Wondering, wondering, how to make it. Lost in a cardboard box. Be knowledgeable about your humanity, and in the mist learn yourself. Keep light in the future Understand that existence is not wealth, Every step is development. One step, two step, three. Let light in; to engulf the dark, Then you will not be, Lost in a cardboard box.
SING A SONG - Parul Rana
Sing a song with little Jill Silly as it sounds Life is a rainbow to fill With love that knows no bounds!
Sing a song with busy ants Trailing down the mountain Hope they don’t enter your pants Or you’ll cry a fountain!
Sing a song with cutey pie Ask her out for a dance Oh Oh don’t be so shy Or Bob will take your chance!
Sing a song with me sometime Bring in some fun After hitting the hell of rhyme Together we’ll run
Poems Copyright ©
designated authors 2006.
Page Copyright © AHApoetry.com 2006.