Poetry 3

oh sir
must you drown your virtue
in spirits most perilous
and pour humanity down
a hapless sea

Ed Meredith

Plight of days

Morning of desires
i lost my need
find my misery

Night of lost sleep
lose my mask
find me a dream

Morning of night
light up my heart
find me a star

Day so bright
shine in my face
ignite my mind

©Jason Christopher
12th April 2013

Senryu Poetry

he pulls no rabbit
from a hat of hollow words
the hopeless poet

Poe Ed
2013-04-11

... .. . .. ... .. . pixels are powerful

WHEEEE!!!

The Merry
Go Round
Morphed
Into a
Tilt a Whirl

Poets in for a
Dreamy ride
Now cling
Dazed and Dizzy

Those Carousel Horses
Were Wild Beasts
After all

Karen Newell
4/12/13

Seeking Satisfaction

desperately seeking
for someone
something
to fill the void
and remove the dissatisfaction

to validate
and prove that it's OK
to be truly content
in this fixed and transitory world

Ed Meredith
12 April, 2013

Its hug a poet day!!! So go slap a few ....

Stress Release

choked with loves and hates
much sober stuff in real life
why not burst a laugh?

Poe Ed
2013-04-12

Gimme a Hug

poet found visions
full of laughing desires
delicious love song

Ed Meredith
12 April,2013

The boat
(chained senryu for threadtanic )

boat in the dark night
one way of living just right
amidst lurking sight

boat in the limelight
or ship of too crowded site
why the petty fight?

boat of pure delight
matters on our chartered flight
you're free to alight.

©April 2013

I say its hug a poet! *hugs* all round. may the slapping stop.... hugs across the land!! across the seas!! acoss the whole universe!! lets join in, and *hug*!!


self destructing in 30mins

(the msg, not the univserse...... i think ... but my watch is always slow.... so there are no money back guarantess, u bought it, u got it)

I have a Voice!

It Laughs!..................It Cries!
It Sings!....................It Sighs!
It shouts Itself unto the Skies!

It is the Gideon's trumpet blaring!

It Sobs!......................It Giggles!
It Rhymes!..................It Riddles!
It lends itself to Demonic Fiddles!

It is the Devil's oeuvre daring!

Sometimes LOUD!.....Sometimes quiet.
Sometimes BRASH!...Sometimes compliant.
It is nonetheless a small GIANT!

It is the Flutist's song so fairing!

This Voice;............... MINE Voice..
Has now.................. awoke.
This Voice;............... FINE Voice..
It has now.................SPOKE!

~ mark wickham

A playground of petulance
Scabby knees, scraped palms
Where is Florence Nightingale

The Whip-poor-will Soliloquy.



'Tis the will-o'-the-wisp
sings the poor whip-poor-will;
'Tis a sad song sung
for the ne'er-do-well.

So fare-thee-well
and for thee not abet;
For 'tis a sadder song yet
for those we forget.

'O sole mio;
O' solo me..
que sera, sera;
c'est la vie.

Etude et solitude,
Solipsus Soliloquy.

~mark wickham

Concerning Cuttlefish and Ugolino




You are not surprised when I tell you
a spotted hyena at the zoo is killing itself,
gnawed from paw to knee, and no one

can figure out why it wants
to destroy itself. You tell me you found
a coyote’s leg in a spring trap once.

You knew that an animal, in its wildness,
would chew through its tendons, snap
its own bones. There are parts of ourselves

we can learn to live without. You tell me
about a woman you saw today,
a despair you recognized through her veil,

and you’d wondered why, in grief,
it’s necessary to hide your face, if
death leaves its teeth marks on our cheeks.

I wonder if hunger is stronger than grief
and tell you that if a cuttlefish is starving,
it will eat one of its three hearts.

And I wonder if, after they offered
their bodies to their father, Ugolino’s sons
cried as they crawled around him in the dark,

if, before he took his hand away from his mouth
and strangled them, he studied them, deciding
if his teeth were strong enough to eat

through the red fever of the body.
When I look at you, I know you’re right.
What matters is what’s left of us.



~ Traci Brimhall ~

Love will Prevail

What is left of us
When sorrow
Claws the Heart?
The pools of the
Eyes
See
Too much.
Bitterness
Of this World
Puckers the
Tongue
And pretty words
Dry up.
How do You patch up
A mortal wound
To walk again
With sky bright smile
Among the Living?

Love will prevail

Karen Newell
4/12/13

This was on a post today with no credit to the Author. I found it beautiful:)

May our minds work together
To find mutual understanding
May I see you true
And be seen in kind
May our words reveal
More than they obscure
Most of all may our minds,
Eyes and tongues
Be guided by our hearts
And the language far older
Than words

?

An Adventure at Sea


Ah! Long broken sleep
silly nightmare
boats sinking everywhere
Strange
no fatalities
just fog horns
torch lights
happy litter after a storm
I'm counting....
everyone's aboard
in our boat
and I see others ahead are full
bobbing along
and breaking into song
now that the morning has arrived
the rain's stopped
a strong gust blowing
the sails full and billowing
The natural flow of the sea
Every fisherman I've met tells me
will deliver you hungry, thirsty, half dead,
to land, from out of the sea
where fish seem free
and land is just another boat
to meet.

Maria Disley 13/4/13

i travel a different way


maybe any path with reverence will do.
i'm just how you've held me,
thank you
i feel myself now

i can only wonder at
what i've been
what punctuation
what tome
to you and you and

i saw you pavlov over me
once and the rorschach hardly
rhymed only you could make
that peg fit

still, while you were here
i never opened you i knew
you waited
on the threshold at least
warmed
by the one before
for the one after



~ Dawn Eareckson

Do not go quiet into that still field

I know no sheep
in this pasture
this flock
is wayward
unkempt
like split golf balls
rolling down a hill
uncontrolled.
Hell for leather
in all weather
The thrill!
The THRILL!

Maria Disley 13/4/113

The Look

I felt your eyes
On my lips today
One thousand questions
In that gaze
Pinned me to the wall
Again
And
Again

Karen Newell
4/12/13

AWAKE IN SORROW

Morning comes with sorrow
Struggle to begin
Waking without delusions
While the blood thins
Running on high octane
With money in the bank
A man lugs his stuff down a path
Mornings in the spring
There are even Greenwich Village tragedies
Happening as we speak
You can't wear a Kentucky Derby
Or drive a chimpanzee
Don't worry; it's just me and you kid
I won't have to tell you when to laugh
Tears have too many commitments
Joy is just a cry for help
You’re born with wisdom teeth
For heads can take an impact
Thumbs oppose us all
Even dogs have dreams where they cannot run
Even pilots taxi some
Water marks the beginning
Dirt will be the end

A Life

Born of
Water
Blood and
Bone.
Upon this
Planet,
Beautiful yet
Alien,
Far from
Home.
Birthed from
Dirt
Sky and
Stone.
These Bodies
Separate
Together yet
Alone.
What do
We Create
Out of
Guts and
Glory?
A Legend
A Fable
A Bedtime Story?
An Epic
A Fairy Tale
Crafted then
Finely honed?
A Soliloquy
A Tome
A Poem?
Before We
Revert to
Dirt
Sky and
Stone.
Before
We Return
To Our
Heavenly Home

Karen Newell
4/13/13

Heidi

When we got her in the water
under false pretences;
she hadn't felt whole bodied water before,
she drew back
but paddled
I admired
her bewildering courage
I smiled wickedly knowing the hardship before the joy
Knowing the fear of learning
unsteady buoyancy
I took her far out and let go..
she turned like a compass finger
and splashed her way back
I was amazed she didn't drown,
but I was there to save her.
Afterwards, whenever we were near water,
she looked at me with wariness
I felt cruel...I'd lost her trust
I had to earn it again.
After a while
she would spring to the edge,
this world was new to her....all of it..she was brimmed full of bravery and unknown fear
we would join almost nose to nose, at the gauzy seam of land and water
with no lure from me...no askings
I had to float out and let her make her own decisions
But now I know if she ever falls in
she will swim!

Maria Disley13/4/13

Poet Opiate

I wake in the morning
with a need to get high
So I cook up a spoonful
And let out a sigh.

I find a good vein
Tie it off, give a thump
til it rises to the occasion
Now I'm ready to pump.

I syringe up that liquor
Hit the vein, and then shoot
Once, and once again
Now the issues become moot.

Now I can lay back
And feel the sweet kiss
Of time slipping away
Ahhhh, such sweet bliss!

Bye and bye.

~ mark wickham

:))

;))!

First-Light Flight

Pale golden talons stir the eastern sky;

Another fledgling day departs the hills.

It takes the air as thermaled falcons fly,

Cascading light as carefree first-flight thrills.

And who attends this noble soaring birth,

From mountain crag to gentle rolling plain,

May marvel from their vantage point on earth,

Yet miss so much, not of the sky’s domain.

But I’m not of the earth. At altitude,

I greet the infant day with engine song,

My contrails etched on endless morning blued,

And rare abandon urging me along.

It’s here, unfettered brother men enthrall

To first-light flight, the one judged best of all.

— from “Taps on the Walls,”­
Poems from the Hanoi Hilton

By John Borling

Not that I missed reading the rest..

but Karen's "LIFE" was something... succinctly beautiful yet wordy..
sorry to run out of description for such an immense poem.
It's the same feeling I had when I describe one of my own artwork
"Ilumina mundi"

Congratulations by the way for this thread and hope everyone( novice or senior)
will find this "wing" a good place to dwell or visit like all we migratory creatures do.

The Astro-poet

Untethered from earth,
Free at last, soaring free
Unfettered from earth
From above; All I see.

Looking down, I don't frown
For no cesspool is seen
It looks pure from here
Mother Earth is our Queen.

~mark wickham

One morning I awoke in poets prison
For a debt I could not pay
A guard a half inch off of me
A painter in his pretty cloths
A worker in worn out shoes

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=569018409785178&set=a.486083091412044.107461.485811038105916&type=1&theater

Queen Mother Earth.

FAA is not co-operating this morning. Can't seem to display this beautiful artwork by Ray Caesar. It is worth your effort to follow the link.

@ Karen, good to see you inspired again, good one
@ Mark of course a guy like me loves the poets opiate

@Robert aka James aka whomever else - Almost as good as a cup of New York coffee? ;)

A New York Type of Poem (dedicated to Robert James Hacunda)

Black; black; I see only black (Mark Rothko).
Blobs; blobs; I see only blobs (Jackson Pollock).
Oh, MOMA! mia,
NEW YORK!, new york.

Mind Kudzu

the
tendrils entangle,
entrap,
and ensnare;

enabling my thoughts
to ensue
to no where.

~mark wickham

Someone mention my name?!

reminds me of an African poem:

My Name

Nomgqibelo Ncamisile Mnqhibisa

Look what they have done to my name……..

the wonderful name of my great-great-grandmother

Nomgqibelo Ncamisile Mnqhibisa

The burly bureaucrat was surprised

What he heard was music to his ears

‘Wat is daai, se nou weer?’

‘I am from Chief Daluxo Velayigodle of emalu podweni

And my name is Nomgqibelo Ncamisile Mnqhibisa.’

Messia, help me !

My name is simple

And yet so meaningful

But to this man it is trash…..

He gives me a name

Convenient enough to answer his whim…..

I end up being

Maria…..

I…………..

Nomgqibelo Ncamisile Mnqhibisa

by Magoleng wa Selepe

Mark's Poet Opiate another version...



Dear Diary
April 13, 2012

Retching withdrawal
feverishly seeking relief
there's fire coursing through my brain
it's been to long since my
my mind not swirling in confusion
in relief...
i can't stop
just one more
and i promise
never will i
watch another rerun
of Jersey Shore
again…

Sally

Diary..my oh my!

*double post


Two thumbs up to Mark's poem-The ASTRO!

Jack's line "Even dogs have dreams where they cannot run " was awesome!!!

I wish Dawn's poem has title or like E,Dickinson's first liner would do? "i travel a different way. "

The Poetess Spake Truthiness (nod to Stephen Colbert)

The Poetess spake truthiness
True; but yet not quite;
in hushed tones,
in still tomes,
spake volumes -
of her might.

filtered -
thro' inane;
filtered -
thro' insane;
unfettered -
her heart
unfettered -
her art.

Oh, what hath She writ.....?
Oh, what hath She wrought!

~mark wickham

Confession of a Simple Simon

I am a Rhymin' Simon
I love to put my dime in'
A diamond not; I don't give a damn
If it makes sense, I could care less.
If it only sounds good; then "I yam what I yam".

Yuck, Yuck, Yuck...

~ (popeye) mark wickham

Poetic Justice

Upon wide feathered wing she lay on the warming spring air, red tail reflecting in the bright sun. As easily as a Porpoise moves through water, a gentle movement of her wing allowed her to swim effortlessly through the vast azure sky.

From a circle high above she heard crows shouting in a multitude of voices, what was this frenzy she thought and dropped lower to see. With a keen eye she saw a fox squirrel, the gentle giant of his kind sitting in the middle of a large empty field. Crows flew low above his head while others were on the ground pecking at his fur and grabbing his tail. This is our field, we need it all, they shouted, and with a pump of her large wings she continued along her areal circle, thinking how petty.

Again crows were shouting, moving lower, she saw through their numbers a lone bunny and a single large crow attempting to take what he thought the bunny had. The bunny ran a few steps with the crow hopping behind, every time she stopped the crow retreated. This encounter kept repeating while the crows above shouted get it, take it, we need it, it could be ours. All this was happening in the middle of a vegetable garden that had plenty to offer, how sad she thought, and with one pump of powerful wings she again returned to her circular flight.

On the ground there was a vulture eating a large lunch, a single crow circled him grabbing and pulling out his feathers. She saw that the vulture was annoyed but still willing to step aside giving the crow room to stand and share his treasure. With greed written all over him the crow wanted no part, but needed to have it all. Trying not to judge a brother’s behavior she simply glided on her way, eventually returning to the beginning of the circle.

To her amazement, there was the squirrel still sitting in the same spot in the same large empty field with the same crows shouting the same tired words.

At the edge of the field there was a large tree with a thick branch to sit. Let me sit and rest and quietly ponder what I have witnessed along my journey today. As she flew toward the tree she was attacked, a hundred crows surrounded her flying onto her back pecking at her head. Wild from their imagined successes of the day they attacked again and again becoming ever more careless. Finally making it to the branch surrounded by a flutter of black wings she sat for a moment, took two deep breaths, turned and snatched their leader from the air. A movement, so fast that now they only see the leader draped lifeless over the branch held by a gentle claw. The crows flew back and forth, squawked mindlessly above as she ate slowly, heartily and then flew on.

Will crows want the field all to themselves...maybe
Will crows want what others have...maybe
Will crows still not be willing to share...maybe
Will she eat...YES!

~~~~~~~~~~O~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Morning Thoughts


The sweet smell of my lady's love
her body blending with my own.
The time when the world is dark and quiet
and we're alone:
near the precipice that separates
noise from peace,
the hint of an every evolving magic;
a precious place
combines and still confirms the space
the oneness and togetherness.

And still a softer morning in March
a gift for me
from God with a darling face
and papa's eyes and Grandma's grace.
How there the light of
immortality shines
as wondrous fragile dreams taste light
and the slightest breeze for the first time.
And morning thoughts turn to smiles
to love to sunshine
to "Good morning'

morning thoughts are of the storm
lightning flashing through the dawning sky
of Grandma's hand and younger day's of life's
discovery from behind the veil of her guidance
of the music that forums our
historical biography — descriptive of precious heritage
of the aches and frustrations of city life blues
the threat of violence that provides the atmosphere
and observations from the balcony
of a "B Movie"
As (though) "all the word's a stage"

morning thoughts begin
as Midnight black gives way
to morning cracks of sunshine
morning as a new day beginning
with all its bright interpretive promise
shine down then sunshine
on Zimbabwe
on El Salvador
on Namibia
on Poland
wherever a man would dare stand up
for a change
we were born at Midnights in the darkest time,
but surely the first minute of a new day gives…

sometime near morning
there's a smile I really need
a chance to gather
our love together
and express everything we feel.




~ Gil Scott-Heron ~

@Ben - Talk about speaking volumes... LOVE IT!.. What else ya got?

Poetic Injustice (Ben is the much better poet)

Buzzard Buzzwords

Buzzard soaring
On the current so fair
Gliding gracefully
As though on thin air.

Buzzard soaring
With grace in the sky
Keeping an eye out
For something to die.

Buzzard soaring
Something spotted below
Sweepz down in a spiral
Otherz gather to follow.

Buzzardz buzzing
Amongzt themselvez
Come one, come all
Come hear the call.

Buzzardz grounded
They gatherz around
One for all, all for one
Cauz' good eatin' aboundz.

~ (with apologies to Ben Kotyuk) mark wickham

absorb love
do not emote no
do not emit yes
omit judgement

swing cradled
in the hammock
of being


d a w n e a r e c k s o n

Saigon, R.J.

Thank You

When My Words ring in
Open Minds
I am so Happy

Drunken Flight of the Bumblebee

Bumble bee
Fumble bee
Stumble bee
Shamble bee.

Watching you fly, I wonder,
How drunk can you be?

You bounce off walls
You fumble in free-falls
You rumble in bee-brawls
Stumble out of beer halls.

Watching you fly, I ponder,
Could you pass a breath-alizer?

~mark wickham

Our instincts are neurotic
Truculent drivers
Asleep at the wheel
With a full tank of gas

@Robert - Neurosis?? Hell NO! What about full-blown PSYCHOSIS? (maybe it's just pleurosis?)

My psychosis does not speak to me
Unless I go crazy for the madness of unresolved dreams
Tired of sleeping she'll take from my nerves
A flower on fire in the wind

Wild horses shall fly
Chariot
Trails behind flaming

300 years old Tibetan Carved Skull

http://pinterest.com/pin/428475352018007581/

In Tibet such skulls where carved a long time ago to take a curse off a family or to guide the soul of a mislead human being on the right path.

And humbled we are !! I sit and stir
Most apt Phillip !

Out of the deep night I sailed,
Soft were the waves
In coaled fog...and yawning horns
No stir, no squawking bird...
Gentle i did go....
Cruising blindly lovely so,
No steering
Gliding on slippery, glass sea, steady though..
Noiseless life;
Like sky turning in a dream...
or shell in a stream..
That space for thoughts...
Noisless oars...
dripping only with the murmer of mermaids
Through the mist.
Sweet dark unchartered place
Preparing for the light.

Maria Disley 14/4/13

Oh my soothed head now fades to dreams of mermaids and their sweet journeys to the ends of oceans worlds :-)

From Galicia with Love!!!

No one can take nuthin from me
contemplated the prisoner
I can only let em have it
When I'm good and ready
and that may be never!
On t'other hand
I find it hard
to not
let go
of love...my woe!

The Xo is returned and with us! We stand and bow before thee! Take your chair and breathe again for the air is different and your eyes were made to see us in this land we find so aloof and full of humbled fools who stand before you. Silent. Asleep. Waiting for the return. Tomorrow and tomorrow! Til then, good night :-)

The lighthouse
shone its SOS
and the keeper;
wanderer of words,
trekked across
the separated
spirit world
to sit with us.

With that soothing voice
He entered
The fray unaware

An echo of a Poe thought.

I cannot know all of one mind
it's ticking seconds
I can only squint from its
fuse sparks
which glitter me
and leave sweet crumbed scars.


Maria Disley 14/4/13

From Galicia
Delicia!

A wounded deer leaps highest,
I've heard the hunter tell;
'Tis but the ecstasy of death,
And then the brake is still.

The smitten rock that gushes,
The trampled steel that springs:
A cheek is always redder
Just where the hectic stings!

Mirth is mail of anguish,
In which its cautious arm
Lest anybody spy the blood
And, "you're hurt" exclaim

Emily Dickinson

I've no use for feet
I fly everywhere
unbound
especially in the face of defeat
see me,all woman
lifting from the ground!
A wounded dear
A flying spear!

@ Philip I was saturated numb at the city..a poem

I wish again I were that old rolling penny
riding in the cracks of pavements
chased by children
laughing
many
times
I've rolled a penny poem
a lonely poet
Only to discover
poem-world
a Strawberry Fields.

O

Slipped a bit there but back on track :)

O

:)

Softly Silence Comes
Patiently Pondering Peace
Waiting for the World
To Catch Up

I See your Highest Hearts
and Honor
That Divine Light

Jai Guru Deva
OM

Solar Flares

Those Distant Dancing Fountains
Spewing Sun Magma.
Sending Tsunami Magnetic Waves
Racing through the Atmosphere.
Will the Cataclysmic Finger
Stroke our Mother Softly
Or Slap Her Face?
No Force Fields Protect
Pole Shifting Possibilities.
Our Sense of Security
Extinct in a
Shattered Split Second

When Wizards Collide
Electric
Sparks Fly Frying Peace

O

;)

O

Our World.
One thousand
Wicked Forces.
One thousand
Facets of Peace.
And We as
Baby Creators
Half blind and
Caught between.
Crawling towards
Evolution

O

Of course I accept your apology..afterall you knew I would. Good Luck.

O

Truce it is!

O

Secrets within the log

How distorted a bow must be to wear one’s own body as a hat.
He still salutes with a nus tight around his neck.
It must be more... difficult to breathe.
Remove the veil of yesterday’s lunch.
With clean eyes, read the captain’s log filled with grand words of self adoration!

O

.

A Tiny Moment

I stood on a tiny metal dock,
watching termites board their tiny wooden ship.
A voyage doomed by self destruction.

Adieu

@ Ben, I am not much on comments although I read and enjoy all Poems written here. Your Tiny Moment is very clever :)) wish I had time to echo but I couldn't do it justice right now. Off to the windy woods!!

RIP marcella. Born xx/xx/xx under a bad sign. Died 04/14/13 of natural causes.

Nothing rhymes with orange.

I used three and one oil
loaded it into a syringe
to silence
a rusted orange hinge.

Lesson in love and harmony..

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=205361476157076&set=vb.130415010365299&type=2&theater

~by lesser species.

Dimensions always found, a life called Marcella indeed is a unique journey that exuberates...

OMG! Something is wrong!
The poet lacks society
Engaging drama
Manic, lost containment
Running down their pants
Is this a cry for help
Or just abusing us

The lady in distress


Expunge the demons
let them go
then I  may see a different day
Expunge
Expunge
Hear my rage
Then let my peace return to be....  
Let me see reality
And let my soul return and see....

I am different
I am me
I just need to simply be...

May God keep my soul
And mind
In His reality...

A fiery spirit may take time to calm  
But in so doing may true vision remain 

Let the demons go!

(We salute and stand well back as you need a space to express)

Expression and explosion
Happen to a Cyst
Purging it's infection
Oozing out it's puss
Leaving an open wound

Thank you Jason, María...From Galicia "El Niño y El Mar" III

-To where I touch the sky?

You do not need to walk very far...

In all that I am,

the sky and I are one!!!

I think you are a fool...

what do you expect to find

that you don´t already have?



-I have been to your shore...

I have seen your waves die...

hitting, kissing the sand,

like an endless dance...

Day in, day out

morning, nighttime,

one way flow...

I now walk to where they are born...

where they may rise and fall,

But forever stay alive.

My hopes and dreams...

I know I bring...

I might be a fool

or just a kid,

But I walk to find in you

the place to set them free...

Welcome back Xo, we missed you.

Almost nothing rhymes with orange (Difficulty 10).

There once was a botanist from Botswana
who proffered me to hav'a Havana banana
and given a choice -
between an orange
and a sporange;

I took the orange, of course.

~rhymin' simon

Did you ever have a real good cup of coffee
A quality cigar
An Ice cold beer when it's hot
The only truth that poetry brings
Is when you go " AHHH ''

Did you ever have a large slice of chocolate cake
A fresh flower to twirl in your hand
A great song in your head?
The only truth that poetry brings
is when you smile
grateful for the wonderfulness
of small things!

Really? Is it really Monday?

I started to love Mondays
Suddenly
like its been hiding behind tuesday
and to the side of sunday
like a mixed marriage wedding,
for eternity.
I kicked it away when I woke
Yet, It let my car start right away
let me breath on the freeway
in the morning rush of wet roads
dancing windscreen wipers
skidding truckloads.
But the best Monday handed me
Was a kid, charismatic
In his asian way, some kinda cool Buddha
Thoughts, which he always spills
To share, quiet, sure, well thought
And make me smile, feel proud
When he’s around.
Monday opened my ears to real people’s real problems
They purged them... I just saw ice cream..vanilla dilemma..
Something that can be wiped up with a soft tongued cloth
They were sprigs of cherries glowing from a tree
Bursted big with pink blooms on morse code branches
In my eyes my farawayglances...
Lovely Mondays always for me.
Monday, Monday, so good to me......
Long day Monday....
Exhausted...with gladness.. the greeting dog chasing balloons
Til they pooped...i mean popped...a bang..better than a splash!
Then poetry..by the pond...
What a way to end
A day......where anyone could reach the sky..if they'd try
Was it really Monday?

Maria Disley 15/4/13

Thank you Penny!!! I have also missed being involved in the poetry threads and may not be very active for a while, and although I have not followed the recent threads I am glad to see that a poets community is settling in...(previous threads were very inspiring to me!!!)

Greetings to you all from a spring welcoming Galicia!!!

I sailed a newspaper hat
in a puddle
a fallen sky
a tiny skyscraper
just a piece of paper
in the hands of a poet
A castle with no moat
A sea with no boat
but the poet will find a way
A poet will make a day


Maria Disley 15/4/13

Good to feel your presence Oxo :)

What is a poem?

A poem is a travelogue
of familiar places
of strange places
of familiar's faces
of stranger's faces
of spiritual places
of pagan places
of kindred spirits
of haunted spirits.

It speeds you along
that superhighway,
or takes you down
that rocky byway.

It lets you rest awhile
yet never roost
it relaxes the spirit
yet gives the spirit a boost.

A good poem is a dialogue
betwixt the poem
and the poet
pronounced to itself
unbeknownst to himself
with yourself,
within yourself;
and with those
you've never met.

~mark wickham

Ahh, it's Monday morning.

Goodnight, Sister Moon.

The whippoorwill is wishing poor Sunday good flight,
Now ready to turn in after a hard day's night.

~mark wickham

Gloating is so ugly
in such a place of beauty
what a pity
to laugh at a burned down city

An Oxymoron.

A commune
of minds poetic
is as ill-fitting as
a wool cardigan.
It is warm and fuzzy,
but itchy-scratchy too.
Well-worn worsted yarn unravels,
but is then knitted back together
with love and care.

~mark wickham

this place of beauty
has no ugliness
seek for beauty and you shall find
seek for ugliness and go blind
the poet heart is not corruptible
you must look elsewhere

Limerick from Long-Ago.

I once knew a girl
'pon who's head lay a curl (¿)
who drew poodle-doodles
and wrote poems in oodles
and cried to herself a lot.

~mark wickham
~~(wonder what became of that girl?)~~

I found the strength
in my pure heart
to wake to this morning
and its offerings
there were none...
but the sun
a familiar place
the smile of
another face
And when the vultures fly by
I smile
for I see life
disguised as love
but still life
waiting to feed on me
but still life
and where there is life
there is hope
and where there is hope there are hearts
please send a good one to me.

I will not build a fence around me
nor barb my words for your chewing
you are free to step here
lie lounge or speak
but step in with true good feet
or pass by

Maria - :( :)

Frieze of Life.


Life is a comedy,
Life is a tragedy,
Like a Greek urn
~~Graphic~~
Froze for All Time.

~ mark wickham

Thinking exactly the same thing today while reading Macbeth!

Ahhh... Shakespeare..

Hamlet - alas poor Yorick. I knew him (sigh)
(maybe a little Robert Burns thrown in too, for good measure!)

alas, IRS.. the tax man cometh... gotta go!!

Cities of Fables / cities of foibles.

Camelot - 'twas not.
Jerusalem - a 'shalom.
Washington, DC - a swamp.
San Francisca - a mecca.
Hollywood = Bollywood.
LA - n/a.
gay Paree ~ o' la la~
al irgnahS : Shangri-la.

~mark wickham

Xo, your Words have been missed here :)). Good to hear from you!



Termites will chew filigree
Into the thick wood
Still the ship remains afloat
Words stream in its wake
Bits of flotsam and jetsam
Food for the fishes

Karen Newell
4/15/13

A Poet Poot.

My verse is terse
For better, or worse
You like it, or not
Who gives a poot.

~Rhymin' Simon, the Poet (ya' know it.)
:D (mia culpa)

This Present presented
Meticulously wrapped in
Good Intentions
Filled with
Most Pure Blessings
Sent without Ego attachment
For in a Parallel World
All things are Perfect

Karen Newell
4/15/13

Like an upturned boat
empty, hollow, ready
watertight.

The Gigantic, Titanic Blunder

"TURN THIS SHIP AROUND!!"
Yelled the Captain to First-Mate.
"I can't; I can't.. For I Fear ITS TOO LATE!"
"I FEAR, I FEAR.. For ALL SOULS SO DEAR!"

Then MIGHTY AHAB!
Therefore, take this SPEAR;
And with it, flesh PIERCE!
So it might just stay clear!

TAKE HOLD! BE SO BOLD!
WHITE BEHEMOTH BEHOLD!
IT LOOMETH BE'FORTH
AND GIVETH NO SPACE!

rip..Rip..RIP... goes the flesh
of this once MIGHTY boat;
Only a miracle A'MIGHTY
will keep us a'float.

The LUCKY survive,
whilst the unlucky perish,
Does God decide naught
amongst those He cherish?

GOD, SAVE US ALL
GOD, SHOW US GRACE
GOD, KEEP US AFLOAT
THE WHOLE HUMAN RACE.


~mark wickham, God's humble servant.

A dry leaf that hesitant flies
And snatched by hurricanes away,
Thus lives on earth the traveler
Without aim, without soul, without love nor country.
Happiness, everywhere he anxiously seeks
And from him that happiness flies away:
Empty shadow that mocks his eagerness! . . .
For it rushes the traveler to the sea!
Impelled by an invisible hand
Away he’ll room from shore to shore
The mem’ries will keep him company
of love ones, of a happy day of yore.
Perhaps in the desert a grave he’ll find
Of tranquility a refuge sweet:
Unremembered by his country and the world. . .
He’ll rest in peace after a suffering great!
And they envy the hapless traveler
When across the earthly sphere he darts!
Alas! They know not that in his soul
There exists a space where love departs!
To his country the pilgrim will return
And perhaps he will return to his home
And he’ll find everywhere all snow and ruins
Lost love, sepulchers, everything gone.
Go. Traveler, proceed on your way
In your own native land a stranger thou art;
Leave thou to others the songs of love ,
To others the joys; you again depart.
Go, traveler, don’t turn back your face,
For no one shall weep as you say adieu;
Go, traveler and drown your sorrows all,
For your grief the world simply mocks at you.

-Translated from
Dr,Jose Rizal Poem
Poet, Cartoonist, Novelist, Physician, Writer, Propagandist
Philippine's National Hero

Hooray, Sr. Jose! - Cartoonist, Novelist, Physician (healer), Poet, Propagandist, Writer, and last, but not least - Hero!

The Blacksmithy Poet

Taking words fiery hot
Then tempering with water
Then hammering 'to shape
To become what they 'oughter.

Shaping them just so
With ornament juxtapose;
Words wrought of iron
Words tempered with soul.

~mark wickham - smithy

Thank you Karen, María!!! Happy to be back in touch!!!

Well, probably most of you have already seen this piece...but...a new thread...a new opportunity to share...Don´t worry, I won´t be sharing all the same videos from the previous thread...only this one..."Light Travellers"- The Winter Series

The Apocalyptic Nursery Rhyme

O' Fisherman, Fisher o' men
Where have you been?
To market, to mark it
666, XXX.

Then home again,
HOME AGAIN,
Apoca-lypse.

~mark wickham, God's humble servant

@ Mark...

Our national hero was also a painter...James forgot to put it on the many titles!

Rizal's Paintings/fineart are as follows:

Title: Saturnina Rizal
Material: Oil
Remarks: Now in Rizal Shrine in Fort Santiago

Title: Dapita church curtains
Material: Oil
Remarks: Made in Dapitan, 1894

Title: A painting on a pair of mother-of-pearl
Material: Oil
Remarks: Shells painted by Rizal in Dapitan and given as a gift to Doña Leonor Valenzuela and later passed into the hands of Doña Margarita Valenzuela

Title: Spanish coat of arms
Material: Water color
Remarks: Done during a fiesta of San Rafael in Calamba in 1867

Title: Allegory on a pair of porcelain bases of the new year celebration
Material: Oil
Remarks: Made in Berlin in 1886

Title: Christ crucified
Material: Crayon
Remarks: 1875

Title: Immaculate Conception
Material: Crayon
Remarks: Made in Manila, 1974

Title: Portrait of Morayta
Material: Crayon
Remarks: Made in Barcelona, 1885

*Rizal did also some sculptures, including the one entitled "Prometheus Bound"
He was also a MASON but denounce it accordingly before his execution.

WELCOME BACK XO!!!

I am truly awestruck by the profound genius of Jose Rizal. If anyone, such as myself, is unfamiliar with the many talents and accomplishments of this Philippine Renaissance man, he is worth investigating.

Indeed he is our Nation's Leonardo da Vinci..with a Shakespearian love story and tragedy!
There are even some occult following as he was revered as some sort of new Messiah to a New Jerusalem in an only Christian country in Asia.
Check this intriguing piece.

A Poem That Has No Title

To my Creator I sing
Who did soothe me in my great loss;
To the Merciful and Kind
Who in my troubles gave me repose.

Thou with that pow'r of thine
Said: Live! And with life myself I found;
And shelter gave me thou
And a soul impelled to the good
Like a compass whose point to the North is bound.

Thou did make me descend
From honorable home and respectable stock,
And a homeland thou gavest me
Without limit, fair and rich
Though fortune and prudence it does lack.

Jose Rizal

WENT LOOKING FOR A POEM TODAY

Went looking for a poem today
Walked miles across the desert
Through canyons of the Rio Grande
Amongst the snakes and the lizards
Went up
Went down
Went up to two towns
Towns that could not speak
There were no poems there either

Saw land that was still moving
Air that was breathing
Dancing light upon the trees
Still looking for a place to hide
Where you can be seen
Cool as hell in dirty blue jeans
Told a bum I spent my last change
On the parking meter
There were no poems there either

It’s moments like these
I want to shout
Nothing kills poems
Like self doubt

Some very interesting posts to read and images to search................
Jack...once again I feel a heavy chamber open in my chest..opening opening...long been closed...revealing weighted darknesses of a depth that cannot be touched, understood explained or communicated except through the poem that you exumed..the bare bones...the haunting cry and wring of self doubt.
never doubt your ability to touch people in your search..for you always honour our, just being, with your finds.

Thank you Saigon, Glad to be back in touch!!!

I wonder...
who finds who?
The poet the poem?
The poem the poet?
I wonder...
In selfdoubt...
Who is at stake?
What would they say?
How would I be seen?
and who is that I?
the poem?
the poet?
Who´s to find?
what´s to be found?
I wonder...
poet, poem...
whose is who?
the poet, the poem...
You, I ?
He, she, it?
Us?
Poet and poem...
Merged as one...
Becquer once said...
Poetry is You!

Selfdoubt...?

the frogs and the crickets
shout the same refrain
DO, RA, MI...
DO, RA, MI...
as if to say
LISTEN TO ME!
LISTEN TO ME!
it's complete, utter cacophony!

Still the whippoorwill will
wait until all is still
then with grace defer to
the mockingbird from who
takes the song baton
then passes it along
from night to day's light.

~mark wickham

the whipoorwill must be a southern thang as I've never heard it before...what is it exactly....? :)

Oxo, your poem was like a premonition. Look i've got my hands on my head...I'm speechless! tell me what came first, music, image or poem? too clever :))
great to hear that voice again...I'm sure everyone is thinking the same:)

;

@Maria - I am sorry you have never had the pleasure of hearing a whip-poor-will's sad refrain. So I will share his song with you shortly. It is not just a Southern thang, but a joy to all who reside east of the Great Mississippi. Alas, perhaps not for all. The whip-poor-will is a shy bird who shies away from human progress. Perhaps that is why he is more commonly heard in the South. Here is a little factoid about this little bird, then followed by a recording of his song. I thought it was invariant until this morning, when I heard one sing an ending coda at a faster pace. I guess they like to vary the rhythm a bit too, to make it a little more interesting.

Factoid - Made famous in folk songs, poems, and literature for their endless chanting on summer nights, Eastern Whip-poor-wills are easy to hear but hard to see. Their brindled plumage blends perfectly with the gray-brown leaf litter of the open forests where they breed and roost. At dawn and dusk, and on moonlit nights, they sally out from perches to sweep up insects in their cavernous mouths. These common birds are on the decline in parts of their range as open forests are converted to suburbs or agriculture.

Song -


Footnote: The whip-poor-will reminds me of the Edward Hopper painting "Nighthawk at the Diner".

Another Place, Another Time

Would that reincarnation work in reverse
de-incarnation is what I would wish for
To walk again in the Garden of Eden
And greet God
mano a' Mano.

~mark wickham

Thankyou for that...I really didn't think it was a bird...I thought it was one of your poetic conglomerations :)) Imagine the bird songs in the garden of Eden!!

@Maria - YES! All singing in joyous harmony! hee..hee.. :)

A little ditty I did called Mountain Stream. I hope that it might transport you to where cares are ne'er. Happy Poeming!

Welcome Back Xo.....RJ

What is a poem redux?

A poem is a travelogue
to strange places
fro' familiar places
surroun'd by strange faces
frown'd on by familiar faces
wicca'd pagan places
frock'd spiritual places
wi' kindred spirits
wi' oo' haunted spirits.

A good poem is a dialogue
betwixt the poem
and the poet
pronounced to itself
unbeknownst to hi'self
wi' yourself,
wi'in yourself;
and wi' those
whom you've
yet met.

~mark wickham, il due

The Path of Violence

When Bombs begin
To detonate
On Our
Patriotic Soil

Suddenly

"The Consequences
Of This Incident"

Remind Us
What We Forget:

America
Has been at
War
For More than
Ten Years.

This is Their Life,
Across the Sea,
On a Distant Shore.

Out of Sight.
Out of Mind.

We have it sterilized.
"Fit for Human Consumption"
With dinner time t.v..

When it is served up
On Our Table
We
Gag.

Karen Newell
4/15/13

Yes Karen, we really are naive
Don't want to know we killed a sick cow
To eat our meat

@Karen - Soil despoiled. Who is the spoiler here? There? When will we ever learn? The wages of sin is death.

Smug in the willowy cotton brains of infancy....Jim Morrison

Thanks RJ!!!

News 24...
We leave Boston...
To discuss the latest sleaze...
News 24...
3 dead...What´s the effect on wall street?
News 24...
We leave Boston...
It´s time for Sport...
News 24...
Moving on, going around the globe!!!
:-((

Unfaltering

Does Divine Love flicker in
Illusions' darkness?
Or Spark, and Flare with Great Truth?

Only Sages will take heed.

Karen Newell
4/16/13

Amend the 2nd Amendment - AMEN

It's a well known fact
that it's a God-given right
for Americans to bear arms.

A less well known fact is
each 'n every American has
the man-riven right
..to mangled arms.

..to missing legs
..to arms barely there
..to no limbs to spare.

This could go on...
and on...and on....
But the bare facts
are there..
Barely mentioned but..
right in plain sight.

~mark wickham (channeling Jose Rizal?)

Karen, the spirit world has a flash point
So don't try and check it in on an airplane

Sooo, no sparking or flaring on commercial airlines, got it. Sparking and Flaring reserved for the Astral Planes! Heh heh ;))

It only takes just 1%

It only takes just 1%
to wreak financial havoc
It only takes just 1%
to wreck mass terror amok

It only takes just 99%
to finally stand up.

~mark wickham (channeling Jose Rizal??)

The Failure of Words - The Gettysburg Address

Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate, we can not consecrate, we can not hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

~ bring it on, Abe! We've still got a long way's to go..

Father Knows Best

Government
Of the People
For the People
By the People
Has perished.
Decapitated
By the people
Wielding the
Sword of Power.
Claiming
They are the people
Who Know
The Best Interest
Of the People!

Unforgotten Filipino Friend

I served America,
alongside fellow Filipino.
We were bunked together,
We were best of friend.
We went out one night,
Whereupon that one night;
Our friendship did end.

There was this terrible wreck,
On that night long ago;
One had to stay,
One they had to let go.

I was the one
who sustained serious injuries
He was the one who
I now ponder with inquiries.

Where are you now?
And how are you doing?
Brother-in-arms,
Take me in your arms,
And don't you let go.

~mark wickham

Interestingly enough the next place that I am staying near madrid new mexico claims to be the place where Jim Morrison began The Shamans Journey, where as a child his family pulled up on a fatal auto accident and he claimed to see the spirits of dead indians walking around..He returned to the area later and is where he filmed the Highway video in which he s hitching and is picked up only to kill the driver and take his car..Well i've been to his grave in Paris but I just found this out.. I was in Madrid last week and found it and Cerrillos to be fascinating..Cerillios is an active village with only dirt roads and two guys who hang out around the one bar bumming change..

The veil seems thinner in the desert. The Shamanic Spirit more acceptable/available. The night sky is different there. Great for Gazing;))

Thanks Maria!!! If you are referring to the video Light Travellers, the music came first, poem second and images third...

There does seem to be something of the higher thinker in Jose. I've been reading but not absorbing...want to read his background first.

A fareweller to Poe.

In us all maybe, is
a dark door
with spartan floor inside the chamber
In any dark room, is the unexpected,
and so we light a light.

This dark chamber in me
I realise
now
needs only my light
an inner light
to fill and flood it
I must look in from within
as no light from any lamp
made from the best materials
can do the job.

I only
can be the lamplighter
of my heart
light the way
choose when to go or stay.
There,
look at it shine from within
and out,
even onto this page.
revealed...no doubt,
N'er too late a sage!


Maria Disley17/4/113

Oxo, so are you firstly a musician...I am thinking this because I would/have done it the other way around, i assume because I have no musical talent, not that I am talented in anything but, I can sometimes put a poem together and an image, either of which can come first, sounds always follow because it is that which I have least confidence in and believe me, no talent. I only wish I did.

Mark..what happened to the friend?

Maria - He lives on in my memory and this poem. Perhaps he is living still. We and two other compatriots went out for a night of revelry and debauchery to celebrate our graduation from Advanced Individual Training at Ft. Gordon before we were to be assigned to our permanent duty stations. That was the night the Snake Lady bewitched us. We were returning to base when our car was struck by another. As a result, I got assigned to the base hospital, while he got deployed overseas. We lost touch.

Did u ever try to find him?

Bare feet and Flowers..


The first real feel of Autumn
passing fruit and veg in the store
when he walked in
bare feet
and sweet the way
he plucked up a bunch of long stemmed purple flowers
I saw their paper
hazy from between the aisles
almost sheer
Sweet..i thought and smiled
as he ran like it was summer
across the cold tiles
and into the cereal aisle
bare feet and flowers
I smiled
and cereal..
love..
and morning..
i thought...
as through the rows of tinned peaches
I saw him blur past
bare feet, flowers and cereal..

Maria Disley 17/4/13

Thanks Maria, but I am no musician at all :-) the sequence for that particular piece was like that. I felt the urge to make the music first, so I did and the rest followed. Sometimes is text first, then images and music and sometimes like with the "El Niño y El Mar" project, began with a poem, some digital images, then 3d works made while in galicia with pieces found in my town´s beach and then oil paintings on galician typical octopus plates....

Early on in my artistic endevours I was advised by a very fine artist to stick to one medium to avoid becoming a "Jack of all trades, master of none", a piece of advise that I have clearly ignored :-)

Here are some photos (there are 7 paintings and 4 scultures in total) of the works I mentioned in relation to El Niño y El Mar that I have titled in Galician O Neno e O Mar (made while staying in Galicia, for circunstances that you already know and currently exhibited in the Art section of my brother´s bar O Rodelo, in my hometown)

This is The Whale

https://www.facebook.com/home.php#!/photo.php?fbid=539769172740668&set=pb.169114816472774.-2207520000.1366222323.&type=3&theater

This one The Rib

https://www.facebook.com/home.php#!/photo.php?fbid=539769149407337&set=pb.169114816472774.-2207520000.1366222323.&type=3&theater

This from his window

https://www.facebook.com/home.php#!/photo.php?fbid=539769132740672&set=pb.169114816472774.-2207520000.1366222323.&type=3&theater

I want to send a kind message to Dawn. Her poetry thread has closed (which you all know...) Her FAA account has closed as well.

If she should pass by here to see if she was forgotten, let’s say, no!

Dawn, You’re cool, kooky, and very brilliant!

Be good girl, and keep on!!!!

Yes Kelley,
I agree Dawn has a lot going for her, but she reminds me of my youngest son who when he was young saw people in a hot tub and without checking the temperature he jumped in...

The shock, the affront to his dignity, the astonishment was so hard for him to get over, but he learned and now tests the water....

Dearest Penny,

Yes I understand...

Something happened to me, let me explain.

In the middle of one night before she ran away, I was sleeping. A big bang rang off in my head and I opened my eyes not convinced I was still alive. I lay in the dark with my little dog beside me, groping for safety, even though I knew nothing happened to me, I was concerned for her, just her...

Kelley,She said she was moving to her cabin where she had no internet.. I think she's pretty strong and will be okay..she has a lot of tools for survival I think...

Dear RJ, Good of you to note.
We're incredibly strong and weak about all the things we think.
What does all this "STUFF" mean to us?

Dawn's poetry is missed by everyone, I should think. It was sad that things went awry. I hope that she is ok and thriving. Maybe if she ever reads any of the poetry still, she will reply and say she is ok.

Yes Maria, that's all I'm hoping for...

...

Mr Pelican

Has the Pelican changed?
he stares, his own reflection
he looks and stares....

Has the Pelican emotions?
he saddens by floating fish
he saddens...

Has the Pelican hunger?
his belly is full
he has tomorrow...

Has the Pelican been hunted?
his feathers seem flustered
he seems haunted…

Has the Pelican gorged?
his belly is most fat
he has the lazy day...

Has the Pelican flown?
His wings are strong
He will fly when hungry…

Till then …
The Pelican stares….


©Jason Christopher 2013
18th April 2013

All I can say is that I missed the whole thread...so not sure what it was all about!!! Sounds like quite an experience...

In any case, I am glad that poetry keeps flowing...

Dear Xoanxo, Yes, you missed quite a bit. Dawn is a very talented poet/writer, and yes, eccentric just like ALL OF US!

She did not fall in line like a good little goose, nor have I.

What has happened to the likes of Brian, Beth, Shawn and SO MANY others that no longer post here?

You guys should actually read what you write. Too much commenting and too many compliments. Yet you all line up to slather over Xoanxo, and your tight little group for that matter. It's got to be weird even for him...(Xoanxo, no arrow is pointed at you, or anyone else for that matter, just trying to keep things real)

Maria, you said in a poem above a poet's heart is not corruptible? Prove it, by shaping this thread into a place for everyone with a voice, and expressions.

Kelley, our poetry threads have never been about falling in line like good little gooses, never sheep, as a poet's heart is not corruptible, i stand by that. You seem to forget that what I initially said is continuing to be misconstrued. Read again.... Posted by: Maria Disley on 04/12/2013 - 5:31 AM...on Dawn's poetry thread2#. I said what i said because...and many will bear me out on this
threads can be closed if people start to complain, then argue, then are just downright abusive, the thread gets closed. So, to avoid this I just sent out an apologetic warning. For this I was slated badly, unnecessarily, and I re-read and looked within myself and could come up with no real reason for it all. You yourself urged Dawn to continue with her anger against me. But, I accepted that there had been confusion in how I had expressed my concern for the thread. your words.....'maria you suck with the people thing' I still say prove it!
I said at the beginning of this thread, it is not mine, but everyone's. have never and would never have the audacity to suggest anyone, not speak freely, infact I have encouraged expression...but especially of poetry and commentary....I will say again...it is the echoing compliments that steer away from the poetry and critical commentary...It is difficult to refrain from complimenting a poet on words that have affected us, how we think and feel, and it is not that which i was trying to express it was poets getting high on compliments to each other that were, i could see, and feel, taking the thread into another zone, which may have caused havoc and even closure eventually of the thread.
i will not get into another barrage of abuse again here. My mind and heart are clear. However, i am sorry that it happened and in future would rather just leave a thread than get involved in that violent outburst. I have better things to be doing.
Did you notice that while we individually praised oxo's soothing words, music and images, he didn't feel that he had to do the same back to us, and then we didn't fee lthat we had to return yet again a response to that response.
We are real...and as I said..will not be corrupted, as a band..or individually...that is the reason we have become a tight little group...because we understand....and above all 'actually read what we write and respect each other'.

Dear Maria, You're sloppy in your words, and recollections. I see your issues. I also see such love in your heart.

Many Doors

Hallowed halls
these well lit walls
many doors to choose
Rules are few
for old and new
Flowing prose
interruptions few
so many lessons to learn...
Armor with chinks
pushy; no blinks
Respect
or reject
Do not overthrow
thy
master(s)

Donna Proctor
04/18/2013

I've been enjoying reading these poetry threads for some time, but as most of you know... I'm no poet :)

@Maria - I share your thoughts re's Poe Ed... familiarity strikes a firm beat and I've enjoyed what feels like glimpses of Tran!

@Xoanxo... welcome home!

Jack Kemp is no lamb

I don't see any line standees in here, quite the opposite.

My issue with Dawns thread was it was all about Dawn, and her responsiveness. It was much more like a blog than a discussion thread.

I think her own poetry was great, but the barrage of patronizing quoted poetry made the thread hard to read, and with all her commenting she was pushing all the other poets into the big skip before anyone had a chance to read them...

Dear Penny, Yes Dawn was rampant, a big mistake....


And by the way MARIA, how dare you say to all these people I encouraged Dawn's anger against you? Now who's crazy...

You are the one sending private e-mails enlisting any subjects you can find. I've never spoken behind a closed door...

2.5 was VERY unpleasant reading. dark. 2 was dynamic, incredible, but at times just manic posting. great interaction tho. ive decided to leave this thread as u wil be heckling cotinuously with ur obvious agenda(s)

any poetry to post yet? its a dialogue of daggers with u present. the atmosphere is awful again. good bye. and if u post pissed (ie on alcohol, perhaps sober up and write a pleasent line first on paper)

Goood Bye.

Dear Jason, It's not nice to accuse Maria of being on alcohol...

Creativity is just way too intoxicating for most people to handle... add a drink and KABOOM!!!
I don't see Maria as the volatile one here

If—
BY RUDYARD KIPLING
(‘Brother Square-Toes’—Rewards and Fairies)

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

An exact quote.

Kelley Lee McDonald Dear Dawn, Be who you are, keep on your own path! YOU GO GIRL!!!!!!

Dear Maria, Your poetry is so beautiful, but you kind of suck at the people stuff. Still, I find myself destine to know you.

Jason, I know how much you have suffered reading and watching this crap. I feel for you most of all....one of the more sensitive of us all. Please stay and don't let corruption and abuse prevail.
I am more determined than ever to keep this thread a healthy thriving community thread, run by all poets, for poets of any calibre, new or familiar, free and open but respectful of others feelings
c'mon lets inspire each other...let there be light!

Unfortunately

There is no doubt that the whole of a man is less good
than he imagines by the measure of any gage
He carries about a shadow always and when overlooked
in conscious life blacker and denser it becomes enraged

The wildest and most moving dramas
are not played upon the theatre stage
But in the hearts and minds of men and women
of ordinary comportment and any given age

We pass by without attention betraying nothing
to the world of inner conflicts that rage
Looking within the soul it's difficult to grasp
and see the internal war waiting to engage

Ed Meredith

Dear Maria, My words from above were not an attack on you, they were constructed to build up her confidence as a leader....Get it? (you still want everyone to pick a side, why?)

And You (Maria) do have a silent protocol in place (I'm the leader, I know best, follow me, do as I direct...) A teacher, a nun perhaps?

Dear Jason, growing is painful....

And yes, I did say you suck at the people stuff, perhaps it's just too many women in the kitchen, (hehe)

STOP IT!!!

Dear Ed, OK.

to do really good poetry you have to be sensitive and if you're going to dwell in that world of emotion you have to be tuff at the same time..Poets have the highest rate of suicide of any other artistic types...

Please sirs, madams and other weird creatures, doooooooooo Pardon my absence and my immaturity. *big phlegmmy cough*. Once i have downed a bottle of whiskey i shall come on and be obnoxious . Dearests. til then, adios and much love!! *cough*
ok the love bit sucks.
laters suckers...

any weird things happend on sunday after noon?? i tell ya!! voo dooo
adios


PS b4 i go AWL, u should have simply posted a few verses and not the endless dialogue, then people could admire. the rest is superfluous

Dear RJ, perhaps that's why I feel compelled to talk about the emotions behind such writing....

I don't see that as what you're doing and I don't care to engage in this drama any more...

Dear RJ, then don't engage, but this is an open forum. :-)

A thief came to my property:( but this lesson pertains to all conflict.

Night Crawler

My possessions
Now in your possession
Are paltry and inconsequential.
The piece of Peace
You pilfered
Is much more important.

The coils of my mind
Now wind around
Darker possibilities.
Snarling hackles
Of my fears rising.

I see into the Brilliant Mirror.
The Ancient Lessons of Love.
Turn the other cheek.
Do not return violence with violence
But with Lovingkindness.

I kneel and
Cup my hands.
I Blow, and Blow again
Breathing the Divine Spark of Love
Back into a Flame.

Evil is an illusion birthed of separation.
The body is a shell.
Only Love is Real.

Karen Newell
4/18/13

Dear Karen,

Such great words above.

I understand I'm not welcome here, the prospect of my presence is way too dangerous.

Guys, just be a little nicer to those outside "the club"

That's it! Be good and tender (like I know you all are)

Before closing her own thread, Dawn had changed the title of her thread into "Sweet Freedom". She must be happy to leave this site for her "sweet world". Poe also voluntarily left this site on his own for a rest. Both would probably enjoy their good time somewhere.

Maria is a awesome poet with a kind heart and good nature. She originally ran the thread "Poetry 1" before Dawn took over, ran, and closed the "Poetry 2" on her own. It's great that Maria could continue the tricky task of launching "Poetry 3".

Please restraint yourselves, cool down,and not let your emotions keep spilling over onto the flow of this poetry thread. Thanks.

Wow!!! I certainly missed something...

This is a closed circle??? Poetry shared in public and open to any one who would like to share their own or some else´s poetry or comment on other´s can ever be closed??? Clearly that it´s not my view on the poetry threads...nor my view on Maria´s,Saigon´s, Ed´s and before them Viet´s threads....

I am a non-active member of figment (a writers social site, mainly amateur, I think) where I have received messages of "I´ll read yours if you read mine"!!! Here, I read everyone´s words, I may comment or not, I may praise or not, I have no clue if there are lurkers or not...I write and share, Maria is one of those brave enough to comment, to question, like it or not.....At least I, appreciate that!!!!

I really appreciate Mark´s humour, I don´t always understand it, like with everyone´s poetry, but I enjoy reading their contributions, Maria´s, Karen´s, Ed´s, Jack´s and RJ´s, Saigon´s, Philip´s...They all offer different perspectives, styles, views, that can only enrich me!!!

This is not a mutual adimiration society this is a Poetry thread, some might comment, some might question, some might just share their projects, whatever...I respect every single contributor, but I don´t think this is a WOD site or thread (Write On Demand).

Jason, it would be a shame to be deprived of your fantastic poetry and even more so of your creative "Humour", please reconsider.

There was a time, when it seemed the only contributors to Maria´s thread were Maria, Ed, Saigon and myself...Now, with Karen, Mark, RJ and Jack, Jason...This is really something worth investing some time into!!!

I just hope it doesn´t get killed!!!

Shouldn´t we just let the poetry flow????

Dear Xoanxo, I invite you to go to my art site (just click on my avatar, and read what I've written.) There is a widget on my book gallery that has pages for everyone to read....Maybe you will see something about me that appears absent here.

Pearls of Poems
Roll and Bounce.

Wiley Writers
Scatter and Pounce.

Words of Wisdom
Do not Renounce
Those who Flirt Or
Those who Flounce.

All Poems Welcome
Here!

Dear Karen, Very cute! You have nice energy...

Thank you Kelley,

I have read your texts, some I had read before...I know we have much in commom, but probably no more nor less than with other contributors here...I have obviously missed quite a bit on the previous thread, but I don´t feel the need to know what exactly went on...nor who was right or wrong, as if such thing existed!!!

The question may be, can we continue to share, read, listen and respect eachother?

I often say that respect should not be conditioned to reciprocity (seed of conflict) and therefore is the sole responsibility of the giver. I and I alone am responsible for my respect, not for that of others!!!

I am willing to continue sharing my endevours...and I hope others too...

To be Loved...
Isn´t that what we all seek?
To be Happy...
Isn´t that what we all want?
To be whole...
Isn´t that what we all miss?
You, us or only I...?

Once a pawn thought
He was the king,
He was the queen,
the board,
the game...

Once a pawn thought...
He could alone win,
Firmly held to a white box...
his face hit the black floor...
Once a pawn thought...
Until he knew he was no more...

Btw, Thank you Donna :-)!!!

With all the fuss of someone not fitting into other's definitions of who they are, or who they should be, i repost this:


----------------


Locked in the Dark Box of Convention


when locked in the dark box
of convention unable to move about
what thoughts would be thought
what thoughts would we shout

would we cry in the darkness as a child might
or break down the barriers through to the light
and breath in the freedom
that is ours to take ours to make

would we huddle in the wrapped arms
of darkness with it's illusion of security
or reach out past the walls
where lies uncertainty

do we sit chained shackled and confined
with definitions that others and society assign
in it's collective and authoritative wisdom
or shall we break free from all the worlds isms

for the named thing is not the thing
only a given name
even though it seems so
moment to moment it's never really the same

the predictability and expectations
that others demand
only stifle and close off
the expressions of the inner man

when free from self restrictions
with the promise to do no harm
we may all approach one another
confidently open and unarmed

Ed Meredith

Dear Xoanxo,

Your words speak volumes, plus I'm a reasonable woman.

Day's End

Day’s end. A time for reflection
The stealthy twig-legged heron stalks the quiet waters of a reedy pond
At peace in tangerine solitude

Confronting his mirror image without vanity or judgment
Unconcerned with yesterday’s catch or tomorrow’s dinner

Single-minded. Intense. Confident in his domain.
Spear-like beak poised in wait of Creation’s offer

Slowly, deliberately, his lanky twig legs wade
in the caresses of glassy, golden, concentric rings
that reach out and embrace
the perfect Oneness.

© Amy Scholten, all rights reserved worldwide

Dear Ed,

Your words are beautiful, I read the language of what you wrote.

I know I've made a kind of mess here, I was trying to clear the air. I imagine I was really, really wrong....to try it. Please, each of you carry on.

@Kelly, Thank You for the compliment:)

To the new poets posting today, Yea! I love to see new voices!

just woke to a brand new day..great poetry! Catch you later hope have something worth contributing. Thanks also for keeping the freedom of thought alive and for the respect of the thread and all who sail in her :))

IN A PLACE SO ALARMING

I’ve found my self in place that is alarming
The beauty that surrounds me is more than lovely
Every view I observe is almost disturbing
Land and sky that an eye covets
It’s more than one man can stand
More than one man is capable of
Intimidated and alarmed by it
I stand frozen
Weak in the knees
Unable to speak
To squeeze out paint
Like a young man in love
With a women who he knows
Is out of his league
And doesn’t give a shit about him

Lyrid meteor shower is at its peak the night of April 22-early morning 23. Visible in the northern hemisphere. A meteor shower that brings anywhere from 5 to 20 meteors shooting across the night sky every hour, with an average of around 10 per hour. The meteors streak across the sky from Comet Thatcher, which orbits the sun about every 415 years and last visited our solar system in 1861. It is expected to return in 2276.
Wheeee! I hope the sky is clear at my house:))

Must be one hell of a view Jack!
Penny, I love, 'If', and it was a poem that my dad liked too, so I remember it with fondness also. But, I never quite was content with the ending and so printed out, many years ago, a version of my own with the ending, '....and what's more you'll be a woman my daughter.' it never really had the same ring to it but I always had it on the wall.

Ann, I was intrigued by your pelican poem, an echo of earlier ones which got me researching the bird. I realised I knew very little about them except that they have a 10ft wing span and are beautifully serene looking and the eyes seem so observant, unlike other birds they don't flee when you get close they allow a kind of intimacy, if only fleeting.
@Mark, just watched your lesson in love and harmony video. Lots of ahh's from this end!
Oxo,I wasn't able to open your links...well they opened to fb with no images is that right?

Maria - Pelicans are amazing birds!! And as such Mrs Pelican, you have served this ship well and as such Captain Pelican, we wish to continue this voyage…

You know how to shoot us up Phillip!!

Jack, squeeze those tubes of frozen love and warm them up. And the same to you sir.

Amy, that was a lovely poem! its great when people dip their toe in and smile!! it makes us go all warm inside.

Oxotic is a new word i should like to add to the poetic dic' the meaning of which shall evolve with the passing times of grotesque slather that i shall so deliver at my eratic nature's desire, so be it so, and other, if not. As whenever. Oxotic shall say it all. Oxotic!

To astronomer supernatural, Karen, one dynamite meteorite hit us a few months back....

Of whimsical poetry, Markus, Mark, Marcello the missing person, or Marky the name that covers it all, has hit some great tunes with his fiddle!! but where is this lesson in love video?? Another dimension??we love to lerrrv... hit us with it!! Perform sir!

I feel odd. Orange. As if reality has changed. ..
who needs the DULLNESS of reality, lets flip... u mean we have already?? Lets flip again!!

Here is some grotesque nonsense –

Whimsical… Orange!!

Orange is the colour of glow
Made to shine on!!, though
Permeating dense wetter mist
It surrounds the glow-less midst
It is the colour of sun and dayz
A colour for every darkened wayz..

A colour of gold emotion
Orange!
We taste you
We drink you
And now…
We so worship you
Be the colour of my eyes
The colour of my golden skin
The colour of my sea
The colour is - orange!

The sun bathed reddened-orange tinge?
Oh do not shrug! nor you cringe!
Hey mad lady - You lost your hinge?
Be you bathed in sweet orange?
Oh chuckle
Suck my soothing lozenge!

A place of copper mountains?
A lost place - called Blorenge?
Emersed in it, forever?
- That tangy orange singe?
I felt that slap
My rhymes are crap…
Lullaby lol
My, oh my, oh my
You laugh, You shrug, You cry…

From that bottled tan
Mixed with…
beached kicked
…baked and wet sand...

Was I made for thee?
Orange, oh despised friend
The colour is of you -
Oranges from Orang-tina
That’s not quite Argentina!
Tis a place of Orang-u-tans
The orange mammals –
of the orange jungle tree
May your moment just now be…

I squeeze you some happiness
The orange juice of Orang-tina
And let the colour of this juice be
An orange, orange sea
Orang-tina -
Just for you, a place for me!!

Oranges are not the forbidden fruit…
But maybe some poems will be!!
Lullaby lol ;-)

©Jason Christopher 2013
Some day, all days will be …. orange

A pelican's beak... can also be his friend!

Oxotic....:-))

And the butterfly once said....

....
Let it flow,
let it gain the space that it owns
Let it flow,
....

Maria, just loaded, this afternoon I´ll try to upload 2 more paintings, as I mentioned, these are related to the project currently underway "O Neno e O Mar"


Macana



Balea (Whale)



Costela (Rib)



Dende a súa ventá (From his window)

Jason - That was the most moving tribute to Orange that I have ever read; indeed perhaps the Only one. Orange was a pretty lonely color, almost blue, until this thread came along. May Orange shine on in all his Orangeness! All hail the mighty Oxotic Orange! You sir, in all your Orangeness, have rhymed many words with Orange. A good Oxotic and Orange day to you sir and thank you for sharing some Orange with the rest of us today.

So Jason - out of gratitude,I would like to present to you Zoe - the zebra with the Orange glow!

http://sgbrown.hubpages.com/hub/Meet-Zoe-The-Rare-Golden-Zebra

Marky, May the glow be with u!!! Zoe is indeed oxotic and a tribute to orange.

Jason - Marcello is not missing, Marcello is on permanent leave of absence. Marky is not missing; Marky is just going through an orangition.Marky has just run out of juice. Jason, squeeze me another orange please! I need another shot. I like my juice pulpy! :D

Where is the lesson in love and kindness, you ask? Why sir, just follow the Orange brick road....

Zeb spent all day in the sunny window
til his fine stripes faded
then one day
a new family moved in
and a lonely, imaginative boy discovered him
on the sunny dusty windowsill
they became friends instantly.

One day Billy Orange
went to the new zoo, just around the corner from his new home
With Zeb in his pocket,
The striped horses were beautiful
He thought he felt tears around Zeb's eyes
the stencil striped horses shook their thick black manes
in happiness, maybe.

Billy took a tin of dark brown paint from the shed
placed Zeb on the chest of drawers
and began to paint in the pale gold stripes
which were beautiful to him
dark brown, almost black,
He looked like one of the zebra's from the zoo
with his new lines,
and Zeb himself seemed to smile, Billy thought
but the relationship had changed,
Zeb was too good for Billy's pocket, hidden
so Billy's mother stood Zeb on the mantlepiece for all to see
where other strangers commented on the beautiful zebra
just like those in the zoo.

Billy longed for something he didn't know the name of
The golden striped horse on the dusty windowsill
all faded and still
every morning when the sun was strong in the eastern window
Billy opened the curtains wide
he watched it swathe over the little toy
and wondered how long he would have to wait
and would he still be a boy?

Maria Disley19/4/13


ps.Jason and Mark,I must have missed something as I'm not sure what the fascination of orange is about...but made me laugh :))

Oxo, love the exhibition! The whale is beautiful! can you give us some details about each piece pls.

Maria - :D :D orange :D :D :D :D Billy Orange+Zeb :D:D

Roger Ebert is dead. Long live Roger Ebert! If a poem is posted here that makes me feel orange and oxotic all over, I will give it two smiley-faces up (ala Siskell & Ebert). :D :D

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=205361476157076&set=vb.130415010365299&type=2&theater

Jason this is the link for lesson in love and kindness:) may you be filled with orange as you watch it.

Mixed Blessings

A bless'd little house wren
built her bless'd little house
at my own house's front door
bringing a blessing 'pon my house.

A blessing, yes,
but also a curse;
for I can disturb naught now
for fear of causing a row
thus bringing a curse
....upon both house.

May the house-wren of paradox
come visit your house;
May you share in her blessings,
...and also her curse.

~marky w.

Orange is a sunset, serene and still
my pupils turn the colour of chromatic hair only Renoir
with the evenings ancient blaze of mineral
orpiment, and purple and yellow and twilight blues
a long sigh of hues.
I'm burning into this colour
this tumeric teaser
the artist's pleaser.

Maria Disley 19/4/13

Oxotic, very cool! Created from items found on the beach?
Mark, Maria, I loved the golden zebra and the poem it inspired! :D :D
Jason! You have given me a terrible earwig from back in the day. An awful kids show, H.R. Pufinstuf. This song haunts me off and on 40 years later!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gDoSl-M5tmM&sns=em

Sun Gazing

Orange is the Sun
Upon arrival and retreat.
When it is safe to Gaze,
With Eyes wide open,
Into His Face.
Activating
Our Crystal Inner Eye.

Karen Newell
4/19/13

I like orange

I like orange
but also azure;
Orange - fiery and mixed-
Azure - serene and pure.

I like shades of twilight
and pastels sunny bright;
One palette is sombre
the other quite light.

I don't like black;
You can take black back away;
Black is a muddled puddle
of all colors gone astray.


~witty ditty by wicky

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=318472174947940&set=a.130363540425472.21666.129674470494379&type=1&theater

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=533675696674454&set=a.225592074149486.53130.100000960853357&type=1&theater

Another of my favorite orange earwigs!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ToVIlrfpBAA&sns=em

All Lovey Dovey.

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10201148962872551&set=o.49391238555&type=1&theater

thank you all for saluting oraange!!! humbled r these fruits, i squueeese u plenty such, orange squeezezed, the juice in crystal glass (with the odd meteorite showered ice.... . )

2 birds entwine
how sweet is the wine?
of summer crusehd grapes...
i rest and mellow
in surest nose
as now i knows
the wine is red and lush
as poets entwine
with summer vine...
with more lerv than lust
a poets must!
;-))

(i need to rest lol, sorry a flipped switch needs to reset)

2 birds :D :D

all fruit poems :D:D

lemons, melons
lemmings herons
grapes, bananas
crepes lantanas
mangoes apricots
tangos foxtrots
kiwi plum
fruit poem done!

glad to see this place survived...

re: Lesson in Love & Kindness vid -

Black can be beautiful

Black can be beautiful
if only trained properly
with the gentlest amongst us
to not bash, gash, and trash
-trained only to dance
in purr-fect harmony.

(fade to black).

~marky dovey

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=533676740007683&set=a.225592074149486.53130.100000960853357&type=1&theater

Maria - Tooty-toot toot - Love your froot compote! Love all froot! (well, all froot besides prunes and sour lemons). :D :D

RJ - An act of will & love! ..and courage(?) Yea, brave poets!! Now, back to business - poetry. Hurry! Someone get Jason Christopher a spell-checker. LOL :D :D

Boston remembered
from runners to running man
never we'll forget

Thank you Maria, Karen!!!

O Neno e O Mar, started with a little poem originally written in Spanish, now has three parts, previously shared here (the initial video, El Niño y El Mar + poems part II and III). My intention is to develop the story further.

While staying in Galicia, and where I still am, visiting my father at my hometown´s hospital I decided to visit the beach, only a few meters away, and see what the sea had brought....This is a collection of 4 sculptures made with found objects at my home town beach only a few days ago. To the sculptures I added 7 typical wooden Galician octopus plates (where the octopus, a local delicacy, is traditionally served) that I painted with Waterbased oil. This 11 pieces are related to El Niño y El Mar which I have been sharing and currently exhibited in my hometown.

Still a work in progress...

And emerald greens



To where it touches the sky



From the edge of earth

I would like to recommend a new self-rating system for poems (or comments). That way readers may be advised of content that may delight or disturb. Please feel free to modify or say this is just BS.

Smiley-face lexicon:

Black- :(
Orange- :D
Oxonic- OXO
OMG- !!
ROFL- :D :D
Suitable only for the strongest souls- :((
Tragi-comic- :( :)

Rating - :(( (profane language on page-link only) , :D

Some Neo-Bluegrass Nonsenss

Song "Blackberry Blossom" by Apostles of Bluegrass - begins as instrumental - wait for the lyrics

http://fuckyeahbluegrass.tumblr.com/post/2389671932/themusicjunkies-new-artist-spotlight-apostles

Sorry Jason; I didn't bring my fiddle.

Dancer Suspended Betwixt Heaven & Hell - Stunning Photographic Album

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=452445928158877&set=a.452445834825553.1073742277.100828189987321&type=1&theater

I concede. Even sour lemons can be beautiful at times.

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=452417274828409&set=a.452417024828434.1073742276.100828189987321&type=1&theater

:(

:(

Mark you must have been reading my mind, i was also thinking of a way of commenting differently, as I found myself trying to limit my expression after everything that happened. Sorry to mention that again. But, I'm sure positives will come from it. I was thinking, although I like your idea Mark, infact depending upon what type of commentry you like to give, if any, then maybe there could be the quickie with symbols but also a short free spontaneous one and then maybe a proper literary one, the language,poetic devices, the structure, tone, rhyme schemes, metre, rhythmn, theme, imagery, mood etc, etc, and maybe even how it affected you and if it inspired. Anyway you get the gist. Thanks Mark for introducing this as I'm sure I would have have declined to remember, not wanting to look like I was hijacking! As Mark said, what do others think?
Is anyone up for writing about the Boston Tragedy.
@Saigon, great choice of image and sincere words.

How inhumane!!!!! A five year old girl battling for her life after being kidnapped and raped in New Delhi...now that is something to get angry about!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Aaaaarrrggghhhh!
Does a poet have a duty? is it a poet's duty to express themselves through poetry about this kind of inhumane behaviour? Is it lame to just write about it?
are we just being selfish by letting go of our anger or trying to understand by writing poetically about such behaviour?

Orange!!!!

I believe a Poets duty, in this circumstance, is to express the thoughts of the Soul. It is the Poets hope that others understand these thoughts. If they do not the Poem should still be valid to the Creator. If the thought is struggling to be expressed in a Poem it is a pity to censor that feeling. Art is Creation. Poetry is Art. You are an Artist, Maria. Don't deny the Poem.
Some sadness is unbearable.

In response to the little New Delhi girl.


I hope
a smile
will one day
twirl pearls
around a beautiful neck
a simple
gesture of forgiveness
of life's
tragedies.
A smile that
simmers with survival.
hums with the strength of love.

Maria Disley 20/4/113

.

I hope so too Maria. Your Poem is like a Prayer. So much to Pray about on Earth right now.

I feel sad for the acts of violence in Boston. The media is a grotesque circus of sensationalism. I hate it!

Talking Heads are
In a dither.
Law Enforcement
All a quiver.
Citizens shake
Then they shiver
As the televised drama
Truly Delivers!

He is Evil!
He must Die!
Is what the
Angry Country cries.
Into a frenzied fury flies,
Un Patriotic to
Question Why.

All is Well!
Will be decreed.
Everyone will be relieved!
Back to a
Sense of Security
And the unreality
Of reality T.V.

Karen Newell
4/19/13

.

It feels like blood sport..

:-(

.

R.J. Feels like blood sport to me also.

Kelly Thank You for the kind compliment :). Viet Tran was before my time here.

:-(

Kelley, I don't think what I feel can be wrong... it's a feeling, there is no right and wrong... it is my real feeling...we posture like poets, artists, but lets get real

.

Just curious.What does blood sport feel like? Is it a cold rush of adrenaline? Asking because I've never felt like the exhilaration of blood sport. p.s. Never read "In Cold Blood" either.

@Kelley. Not I. I am not acquainted with the gentleman.Or is Viet a mythic god, perhaps?

:-(

Kelley, I'm not sure what it is you're trying to say to me..what my being a man has to do with anything? I understand you're working through survival, I know what it looks like.. I know it's not easy, I wish you well and pray for your strength to support you.

Mark, Blood sport is like the Romans wanting a kill in the coliseum ...

I'm curious about viet also

.

@Robert - But how does that make you FEEL? You have just described an event, not a subjective response to said event.

Kelley, I'm sorry I don't get it...I'm missing something here..

Mark, It's the Id lusting violence..

It feels like everyone wants to smell the blood... Like when you walk into a butcher shop...you expect a certain visceral reaction. Now RJ appears to have been talking about the news carnage in Boston, where both our kids have been trapped all day... What Kelley is talking about only God knows...

:-(

Kelley, are you drunk?

.

Kelley,
I get that you like negative attention, but I'm too tired to be much help to you tonight...

.

.

No Kelley I'm sober. I'm not a drinker.. I am very healthy, live a healthy life...

Sorry to hear that your kids have been trapped in Boston all day...so glad its all over....it must have been a really anxious time. More good news David Morefield's son does not have cancer!! Isn't that fantastic!! :)))

Thats wonderful news..still sounds like a rough treatment .. I hope he does well

.

Viet was banned Kelley

.

I never edited a post Kelley..what's going on with you? are you okay?

No edits here. Perhaps they are happening at your end...

:-(

I see you just edited your post however,,I never said you were drunk, I asked if you were drunk...

Honestly Kelley I'm concerned about you, I'm not taking it personal but you're being abusive ...

Hi Kelley,
Nice to see you taking such an interest in Viet Tran. He was and still is a superb poet. A master of Senyrus. Am I right, did you say he has an account here? did you think about beginning your own thread yet?

:-(

many get banned for not following the rules.. why don't you write to him?

:-(

kelley,
I think you will need to go to the person that banned him....It may have been Beth. None of us can answer that question, except Viet and /or Beth. Why is it imporrtant. Lots of people have been banned for different reasons.

no it's not interesting but you're the one driving, Kelley...

Whatever! Your right its not barely interesting infact its numbingly boring....why not post a poem instead...you have some great work to share.

:-(

Viet a great poet-artist to whom I dedicated my Butterfly Dreams e-book and with who I collaborated in On the wings O'Butterflies (if you want to know more look at Saigon's thread on the subject, early posts) and who was banned from FAA several times where he held longstandind and outstanding poetry threads. I also get an e-mail of some threads with original posts and can see what is posted, deleted and modified....I also often edit my posts.....

You're right Kelley I am not match for you, I refuse to try and hurt you,

:-(

I also have a personal e-mail from Viet from his last ban, what he was told and how he felt, still I recomend reading his intro to On the wings O'Butterflies and his poetic contribution if anyone is really interested...

:-(

Kelley, what is wrong? Don't you see you came here with a jag on?

Hi Kelley,
Viet is a great friend, I suppose nobody felt that they should be discussing his business on this POETRY thread. Are you interested in his writing or just why he was banned. You would really like his poetry, it is very honest and free flowing, he doesn't mince words. He gives you it straight between the eyes.
i asked a question which has gone unanswered too, have you thought any more about beginning a writer's thread?

@Kelly

Here is the link that might help your inquiry...I myself failed to catch the whole story whatever it was..but's it has something to do with post exchange gone awry of a topic from another thread.


Art, Poetry & Sundry Notes 2

Enjoy the weekend!

Circus Maximus

Glory Seekers
Gory Spectators
Glad Gladiators
Carneys Cajoling
Carnal Carnage
Circus Maximus
Maximus Man-hunt
Cathartic Circus
Exuberant Audience
Lions 1 Martyrs 0


Goodnight.

Anyone remember the movie Shirley Valentine? i am watching it just now...so funny....laughter is so important!

:-(

@Maria - I eagerly anticipate your Valentine poem(?) in the morrow. I like to start my day off with a good, hearty laugh! Kindest regards, marky

Shirley, in the movie, always talks to the wall...she describes herself as being St. Joan of the kitchen sink! there's a great scene where, when she goes off on holiday for the first time without her husband, the greek waiter is seducing her by kissing her stretch marks..he says how beautiful they are because they are a part of her, she whispers to the camera aren't men ...full of s...t!
when her traditional 40 something husband who is set in his ways, sends a telegram to Greece saying he is coming to get her and take her home...she says..he has been watching too much Rambo! haha! I used to be the mother..the wife..but now I'm Shirley Valentine again...she says when he arrives in Greece and doesn't recognise her...

Let the poetry continue.........:))

She was surprised by her own heart
when he fixed the collar of the wedding guest
leaned his hand on his shoulder
her heart nudged her
for a moment
sent the mother an image
a polaroid..
As if she could predict his future,
Sigh! Smile...
It's really just a void!

Maria Disley20/4/13

Celebrating Orange.


The earth, through my fingers
Glimmers and glows;
Organic gloves of soft lumped jewels...
Stretch me across the furrowed fields,
The wineries,
Where ripe grapes might drip on me their sweetnes
under this light.
Allow me to roll, childlike, laughing
Down the orange valleys, to trip
through the deep troughs of cadmium crevices,
To the home with burnt umber under its old eaves...
Leave me here..
Forever!

Maria Disley20/4/13

Celebrating Orange :D :D
Provence 560607 :D :D
Shirley Valentine Synopsis :D :D
Is Jason still charging? E E

.

Hi Kelly we love ur writing!!! The dialogue is toooooo confusing tO deal with when thinking poetry stuff... People dont get it and neither do i . Just post a few lines like excerpts of ur writing here and there.... U would get admirers by the bucket


I'm Off for the weekend ta ta and markyzzzzzzz

Galatians 6:7-9

King James Version (KJV)

7 Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.

8 For he that soweth to his flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption; but he that soweth to the Spirit shall of the Spirit reap life everlasting.

9 And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.

~Southern Preacher-man (gettin' warmed up for tomorrow) ;)

I found this gem by R.E.M. and thought I'd share it. It is lyrically poignant, and spirit-soothing. I never much cared for R.E.M., but I like this tune, and I'm glad to see some local boys hit the big-time. They hark from Athens, Georgia - just up the road a piece.



(p.s. - If you watch it for nothing else, watch the vein in the lead singer's forehead - it mesmerized me!)

Zeb and friend send their greetings.

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=556524851055149&set=a.433056490068653.106208.100000929167977&type=1&theater

Zeb and friend send their greetings.

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=556524851055149&set=a.433056490068653.106208.100000929167977&type=1&theater

Didn't mean to be so redundant! Keep getting logged out of FAA. Is anyone else having this problem recently, or is it just something I did?

@ Mark. Everybody hurts is a fav of my husbands...and yes, I think its great too. Puts everything into perspective.
@Kelly. People only have short fuses in response to your short temper. As mark said, what you sow you reap for most of the time. Everyone here has been very patient with your outbursts simply because they know you have more to offer but for some reason you just keep going on and on trying to get peoples backs up. Why can't you just relax, join in, share your writing, or start a writing thread and enjoyyourself. Nobody here has broken your heart...you have....and its not broken....you're just feeling a bit sad. C'mon cheer up, and begin again. :)

Thought for the day: :D :D
Like Saigon suggested: ENJOY THE WEEKEND. :D :D

To Whom It May Concern (delusions of grandeur???): Don't be. Marky Mark will be in absentia (in hiding???) until further notice. He has much unfinished business to attend to (re-charg-ZING ???). He is not; I repeat, NOT, a poet. He is a mere poseur - an imposter. He must re-claim his TRUE self! "To thine own self be TRUE". I MUST get back to the garden. CSN&Y said it better than I ever could (remember, I am NOT a poet):

Well I came upon a child of God, he was walking along the road
And I asked him tell where are you going, this he told me:
(He) said, I'm going down to Yasgur's farm, going to join in a rock and roll band.
Got to get back to the land, and set my soul free.
We are stardust, we are golden, we are billion year old carbon,
And we got to get ourselves back to the garden.

Well, then can I roam beside you? I have come to lose the smog.
And I feel myself a cog in something turning.
And maybe it's the time of year, yes, said maybe it's the time of man.
And I don't know who I am but life is for learning.
We are stardust, we are golden, we are billion year old carbon,
And we got to get ourselves back to the garden.

We are stardust, we are golden, we are billion year old carbon,
And we got to get ourselves back to the garden.

By the time we got to Woodstock, we were half a million strong,
And everywhere was song and celebration.
And I dreamed I saw the bomber jet planes riding shotgun in the sky,
Turning into butterflies above our nation.

We are stardust, we are golden, we are caught in the devil's bargain,
And we got to get ourselves back to the garden.

~ Signing off now - Good day, and Good news. Bible-thumpin' Southern Preacher-man.

Just one more, before I go. This was one of my hymns. Carry on, after I'm gone (delusions of grandeur, again??). I knew you, even before we met.

Wooden Ships

by David Crosby, Stephen Stills, Paul Kantner


Stills: If you smile at me, I will understand
'Cause that is something everybody everywhere does
in the same language.
Crosby: I can see by your coat, my friend,
you're from the other side,
There's just one thing I got to know,
Can you tell me please, who won?
Stills: Say, can I have some of your purple berries?
Crosby: Yes, I've been eating them for six or seven weeks now,
haven't got sick once.
Stills: Probably keep us both alive.

Wooden ships on the water, very free and easy,
Easy, you know the way it's supposed to be,
Silver people on the shoreline, let us be,
Talkin' 'bout very free and easy...
Horror grips us as we watch you die,
All we can do is echo your anguished cries,
Stare as all human feelings die,
We are leaving - you don't need us.

Go, take your sister then, by the hand,
lead her away from this foreign land,
Far away, where we might laugh again,
We are leaving - you don't need us.

And it's a fair wind, blowin' warm,
Out of the south over my shoulder,
Guess I'll set a course and go...

~ I told you, these boy's words were MAGIC! ;))

I suppose everyone will fall off one by one....the poems will be interesting when its just me posting...:)

OK. One last one, and then I PROMISE, I'll quit! :D

Sugar cane

I squeezed those canes
'til all the sweet juice ran out
now all that remains
are husks - all squeezed out.

~sweet baby james

(Maria- Don't be sad; don't despair; for everyone takes the weekend off; in order to repair). Everyone will be back stronger and more vigorously than before! This I PROMISE! For today is promised us, tomorrow not.

Yes Maria, Jack sent me an email telling me that all this contention over nothing is very uninspiring ...

yes, you all need a break...me too...maybe its time to do some painting...have a great weekend everyone...:)) Poor Jack...i know for sure that when he returns he'll have something really good to share...hope he didn't give you too much earache...:)

SOMEBODY PLEASE STOP ME! I CAN'T HELP MYSELF!

Dominion of minions

Are we a dominion of minions?
adrift in a Domain of Minotaurs?
Are we Lilliputian in our stature?
or grotesque Gullivers statuesque?
Shall we allow ourselves to be slain?
shall we make ourselves fit to be tied?
HELL NO! WE'RE THE NOBLEST POETS!!
Slay thou not our tenderest thoughts!
tie'st thou not our dearest dreams!
We proudly proclaim ourselves!
we humbly share of ourselves!
We simply are but ourselves!
or thus, to us, it doth seem!

~(mia culpa) marky ... adios, Amigos.

Maria, Poets are not beaten down that easily :D We are busy being inspired by Spring! I'm sure all will have new Pearls of Wisdom and Soul Words soon! You shall not be alone Miss Captain, Fear not the Crew will be aboard and ready to sail after some shore leave :))

Mark, Thanks for all of the great Art and Music! And of course your Poetry :D :D

Thanks for throwing a life ring, I slipped on deck and slipped in! Just drying off....what do I do when I'm drying off...play my fav songs...this one is soothing and it don't sound too bad me singing it either....:)) So nobody needs to post....but if you are around you might like to listen or just post the songs that rejuvenate you....I am now on the re charge barge..:)))

http://youtu.be/dKdCPtDaNCM



Thanks John crothers for this beautiful image.

Dear Maria, It is absolutely impossible for only one person to be wrong. In this world, or any other.

I agree kelley,
I should have said that it wasn't all your fault, but it was you that couldn't let it drop, won't let it drop. Getting off that subject, what is your favourite song? How about posting it for the chill out party on the recharge barge...some relaxing fun..? Hey, do you have a fav Beatles song?

http://youtu.be/Nl9WMIPzd6w


http://youtu.be/lonK5kcWKKo

I DO! I DO! LET ME! LET ME! Let me post all the Beatle's oeuvre. They are my FAV! Especially George - the Quiet One. Then John, the Deep One. Then Paul, the Pretty One. Then Ringo, the Happy-Go-Lucky-One. HELL; I LOVE THEM ALL!! MISS THEM BIG TIME!! :D :D

What was YOUR FAV Beatle song, if you could name JUST one?

Here's mine:



:D :D

My favorite Beatles song was beamed into deep space by NASA! Our tax dollars at work :))

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pZ1z-EZcz6c&feature=youtube_gdata

I love Hey Jude...but i think maybe SOMETHING IN THE WAY SHE MOVES...BUT ITS SO DIFFICULT TO CHOOSE JUST ONE.

http://youtu.be/IrW7dlDHH28

YES KAREN..GREAT CHOICE...:)

@Maria - BET YOU CAN'T EAT JUST ONE! heee.hee.. LA..LA..LA.. la. da..di..da.. la. da..di..da.. HEY, HEY.. :D :D

NOW THAT'S A STRANGE THING TO SAY...ARE YOU TRYING TO LET THE CAT OUT OF THE BAG...WHO IS THE REAL PERSON BEHIND Mark Wickham? :)))
In the meantime......while i await your confession....another Beatles song...

http://youtu.be/1_a-pyUqwjc

and another great one....

http://youtu.be/kPKYPI1jjdg

These are off the first Beatles album that made my ears stand up and listen and realize these guys are real poets - Rubber Soul.

This is one of the songs that did it to me:



This is the other:

While my Guitar Gently Weeps

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZO-qFg1dD0E&feature=youtube_gdata

eGOD, HELP ME, PLEASE!
eGOD, HELP ME, I CAN'T STOP!
eGOD, PLEASE, HELP ME CEASE!
eGOD, I GOT THE POET'S DISEASE!

Truth is:

Truth is:
Soul bared
Souls shared
The naked truth
The unshaken truth
The truth that's hidden
The truths yet to be told
These ever-lasting truths,
For evermore- to ever unfold.

~sigh~

(am I channeling the early Beatles doing - "Please, Please, Help Me"?. OMG! I THINK I AM INFECTED! PLEASE, PLEASE, HELP ME MAKE IT STOP!)

Mark, :D :D

This is not The Beatles but....

Xo' - It's not the Beatle's, but it's still Beautiful! :D :D

Hey mashup http://mashable.com/2013/03/04/beatles-covers-minute/
Hey marky hey Jude she loves u yeah yeah yeah? She's gotta ticket to ride
Da, da da da da da, da da but she dontt care

Graffiti no 1

I love my hot belly
I love my cold belly
I lerv my phat belly
But no body cares

Of a hot series. Graffiti poems. Stick 1 anywhere lol

Oxotica

Its da weekend so I'm off again :D :D

Writer: LENNON, JOHN WINSTON / MCCARTNEY, PAUL JAMES
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

Yellow submarine


In the town where I was born,
Lived a man who sailed to sea,
And he told us of his life,
In the land of submarines,

So we sailed on to the sun,
Till we found the sea green,
And we lived beneath the waves,
In our yellow submarine,

We all live in a yellow submarine,
yellow submarine, yellow submarine,
We all live in a yellow submarine,
yellow submarine, yellow submarine.

And our friends are all aboard,
Many more of them live next door,
And the band begins to play.

(Trumpets play)

We all live in a yellow submarine,
yellow submarine, yellow submarine,
We all live in a yellow submarine,
yellow submarine, yellow submarine.

(Full speed ahead, Mr. Boatswain full speed ahead!
Full speed it is, Sgt
Cut the cable, Drop the cable
Aye, aye, sir, Aye, aye
Captain! Captain!)

As we live a life of ease(life of ease)
Every one of us(every one of us) has all we need,(has all we need)
Sky of blue,(sky of blue) and sea green,(sea of green)
In our yellow(In our yellow) submarine.(submarine) ( Haha! )

We all live in a yellow submarine,
yellow submarine, yellow submarine,
We all live in a yellow submarine,
yellow submarine, yellow submarine.

(fading)

We all live in a yellow submarine,
yellow submarine, yellow submarine,
We all live in a yellow submarine,
yellow submarine, yellow submarine.

Jason - SPOT ON! -Hey marky hey Jude she loves u yeah yeah yeah? She's gotta ticket to ride Da, da da da da da, da da but she dontt care

We all live in an orange submarine, orange submarine, orange submarine (Haha!) :D :D

The Love Affair of the Century - Frida Kahlo et Diego Rivera - Fascinating! Must Read!

Her famous quote: "I was born a bitch. I was born a painter."

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10151328664166326&set=a.10150645741076326.383498.658851325&type=1&theater

Rose Gabriel in her studio.

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=451565104928893&set=a.451564668262270.1073741829.364009023684502&type=1&theater

The Snake Lady

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=439397112821644&set=a.160389590722399.36772.159986060762752&type=1&theater

Wooden Ship:

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=383844195062993&set=a.282788545168559.67478.282786015168812&type=1&theater

Well Oxo, loved the song..it would be nice translated :) The Motorcycle diaries is a moive I could watch over and over.
Loved all the music..thannx karen and the other two jokers. So, you two are you going to tell me whats going on...who are the real people behind the avatars!! :)) I think its hilarious...liverpudlians have always been able to laugh at themselves when they have been taken for a ride.....a good lesson to get you through life and online discussions :))))
C'mon guys..or you may be girls..or you may be very advanced chimps...Whatever you decide to do...I will enjoy the ride...have a great weekend....LOL!


Continuing the Recharge Barge.. a great song for this beautiful Sunday morning...

http://youtu.be/yFL9Xo6lg8I


and


http://youtu.be/gQLtCoh5EaI


Mark, thats too much thinking for a beautiful Sunday morning......:))) I can wait it out...

hmmmm! Michael?????????????

Maria - Marky might be the mirror image of you!?! Take a good look at your avatar; then mentally flip it. To your surprise, my avatar will appear before your very eyes! Surprise? So, who am I? So, who are you? Who's the man in the mirror? Maria? Marky? Michael? or ....who?

No party is complete without fir..............
http://youtu.be/QGJuMBdaqIw

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o1QBKkjYm3o

what happened to poetry?
something not so pop

RJ...we were having a re charge party on the Barge...:)
haha love this never heard it before..thanx :))

thought from a lurker

Of Good or Bad

he
had enjoyed those sunny days
perfect
for his outdoor activities
yet
the drought last too long
it became
really bad
for
him

he prayed for rainfall

at last
coming from the horizon afar
the black cloud could no longer held its heavy load
water was pouring down
in time
for his new lawn
he sighed and murmured
“it’s really good”

all of a sudden
echoed a shrieking moan from his neighbour’s backyard
“o
fuck!
it sucks
my barbecue gets soaked”

doesn’t
man always unconsciously perceive something
good or bad
purely based on
his
own
interest

2013-04-20

another poem by tom

Nice to see someone else besides me likes Tom Waits. He's an acquired taste. Like rot-gut whiskey. :D

Gotta leave you nighthawks at the diner. Enjoyed the night out, but I gotta call a cab. It is late here in Georgia. I know you are just getting started in Noo Yowk City! LOL

Maria- "Beautiful Sunday" had me ROFL. Hope it was TIC (tongue-in-cheek). :D :D