Stepmonster - a poem by Noah Preston

Stepmonster 

Every night I’d cry myself to sleep.

Every day I’d wake up scared.

‘Cause there was a monster lurking about.

And every time I did something wrong,

It began to shout.

It would threaten me - threaten to send me to jail,

Just ‘cause I didn’t put on my sandals.

Well damn, she don’t care!

Well damn, she don’t care! 

Every weekend day,

I was forced into its lair.

She would pretend to love me.

Well it’s plain to see

That damn, she don’t care.

She was meaner than a bear! 

Every night I would cry,

“Mommy, why

Have you left me here?

There’s a monster in the hall,

Banging on my door,

Wanting to feast on my fear!”

 

For gods’ sakes

I was eight years old!

Mom treated me like gold,

But it treated me like mold.

It would laugh when I got cut,

That mean old smut. 

And it’s clear to me,

And it’s plain to see

That damn, she don’t care.

It was inhumane

The amount of pain

That she caused me.

And in my dreams my mom gleams

Like a golden saint.

But then my dream turns -

The monster is there and it burns.

Her laughter haunts me,

Her eyes taunt me,

They burn red, I feel like I’m dead,

My heart is full of dread. 

For I’ll never forget.

You wanna bet?

Your heart is a black hole,

Your eyes are made of hot coal

You little troll ... you’d put poison

In my cereal bowl! 

And when it comes

To my mom, well ...

Damn, does she care!

 

By Noah Preston

Endless - a poem by Rima N. Jaber

Endless

Your smile, positive waves caressing,
The light of your eyes shining,
A prayer of love rising to the sky,

... And your love in my heart,
Rising my soul,
Touching my deepest layer,
Transforming my spirit,

Rain of happiness,
Suns of love lights,
Showering my being,
Pushing me deep inside,
Inside this marvelous love world,

You took my hand,
Took my soul,
And took me to your heavenly world,

I close my eyes,
Lost myself,
Find myself in your heart,

Each time I see you,
You succeed to bring the divinity to love,
Melting holiness to our happiness,
Don’t know if we’re becoming love Goddess,

Above this existence,
A constant without difference,
Our love I know has began with the beginning,
And will last forever, out of time, endless, my darling..

I love you eternally honey
Happy Weekend everyone
Always Love, Light, Joy,
Peace & Blessings to All of us
{{ONELOVE}}
Rima N. Jaber
© February 23, 2013

The Snow Storm - a poem by Eva Ruby Austin

The Snow Storm

 

It started to fall at the close of the day

And it never stopped at all

Until it covered all the land

And the cars could barely crawl.

 

"It's the worst snow storm in twenty years,"

Said a voice on the radio,

And "unless it's really important

That you must go out - don't go."

 

My daughter, with her colleagues,

Had left early in the day

To put on a play in Woodstock,

And it started while they were away.

 

So, of course, on the homeward journey

The traffic crawled along,

Delaying their arrival,

To four o'clock in the morn.

 

On Sunday morn, the snow piled high,

Hampered the morning devotion,

As down the street all one could see

Was spade and shovel in motion.

 

The cars were covered with nice clean snow

To the drivers' indignation;

While on the street, and working hard

Were shovellers in rotation.

 

With tired backs and frowning brow

They finished the needy chores -

With comments coming from everyone,

"I hope we don't get anymore."

Beyond Time ... a poem by Audrey Austin

BEYOND TIME

 

by Audrey Austin

 

previously published in Empowerment Magazine

 

 

In motionless silence

The mad woman travels to places that do not exist

Impatient, she sleeps

By the still water pool, awaiting the touch

Of the wise, loving fool.

 

And suddenly, now,

He is holding her close.

Aware,

She's no longer herself.

 

The wise fool's at peace

In this strange, private land.  The mad woman

Places her life

In his hand

 

Why are you? she whispers

With eyes that are open

Be with it

He silently pleads.

 

I carry the key

It will unlock all fear

We've travelled far

To possess what is near.

 

He unlocks her soul

Which unites with his own and drowns

In an ocean of lust.

 

She cries when she wakens

Dear God, set me free.

Let me have here on earth

What is destined to be.

 

Walk in peace, God commands

Wear a clever disguise, respect your sister and brother

What in timelessness thrives

Cannot happen on earth.  The wise fool belongs

To another.

 

In motionless silence,

The mad woman travels to places

That cannot be found.

 

The wise fool enquires

Of the tall tree of knowledge, will we meet

The next time around?

 

And God in His Heaven enjoys the cruel joke,

How wondrous his power; how heavy the yoke,

Rebellious and willful, yet true to God's rule,

The mad woman travels to meet the wise fool.

To Be a Daniel by Audrey Austin

To Be a Daniel

 

 

I sing the song in Sunday School

Dare to be a Daniel

But truth or dare gets in the way

Of being who I am.

 

It matters that I get along

Popularity is key

I learn to follow and partake

I forget what I believe.

 

I say I'll do it all my way

I say to none but me

And then when told here's what we'll do

I wander from my path.

 

Now that I'm older sitting on fence

I'm neither here nor there

Daniel hides - will he be found

When this old soul lays bare?

Alfred 11 -- a poem by Murray Alfredson

Alfred II

No way I’d call it tragedy,
his death; for full-ripe were his years
at ninety two, and rich his life,
a humble man and no high-flyer
yet learned in his way and wise
knower of plants and animals,
a gardener, a sanctuary.
A one-eyed magpie found refuge
in his garden safe from owls within
the barricade of fig-tree branches
and amply fed by worm-rich soil.

He was no knowledge-hoarder; ever
a teacher he shared with all who asked
or showed an interest; never a pusher,
folk soon enough discovered him.

And every time I need to know
a plant or how to raise one, I feel
the gap my father stepped from
so quietly in the early hours
when none of us expected, leaving
a hole that never quite has closed.
Yet often in my quieter moods
his face appears, his lifting eyebrows.
I’ve no idea how many lives
he touched, but hundreds packed his church,
sang lustily his funeral hymns.
-- published in Touch: the journal of healing. 3 (Jan 2010)

What If ... a poem by Audrey Austin

What If

A what if feeling arrived late last night

I took it to bed in the dark out of sight

 But not out of mind

 though I'd like it to be

Can't quite understand

what has happened to me

 

It was still there this morning

I wish it would leave

It arrived uninvited insisting believe

Couldn't focus on work

so my feet hit the trail

Each step stamped this feeling

but to no avail

 

What triggered this feeling?

What word, what cruel twist

Has weasled its way into what doesn't exist?

The question what if

has stolen my morning

And coloured my feelings

as though they were mourning

the loss of something

that hasn't transpired

Except in my mind

 

 

This poem by me was previously published in "Moments in Time" , Northern Ontario Poetry Collection, Volume 13, 2008.  Canadian Authors Association - Temiskaming Branch and White Mountain Publications.