Silence - a poem by Vicki M. Taylor

A poem by Vicki Taylor

vmtwriter@vickimtaylor.com

 

 

We Have Come So Far - a poem by Marlon de Souza

We have come so far         

We are pagans
We are Christians
We are Muslims
We are Jews

We are believers
We are Buddhists
We are heretics
We are Hindus

We have good science
And good families too
Led by wise men
Killing more than a few

We are atheists
Philosophy fans
Destroying the Other
Because we can

We are modern
Parochial worms
Infecting our children
With our germs

We have taken
What’s not ours
Killing children
Gentle flowers

We talk progress
Great technology too
While we butcher
You and you.

There’s nothing left
To say or do
As long as you think
That they’re not you.

© 2014 Marlon de Souza. All rights reserved.

Marlon de Souza writes. Among his teachers are water bodies, Robert Louis Stevenson, Emily Dickinson, Robert Frost, e.e. cummings, Pete Seeger, His Royal Highness Wolfgang the First, Leonard Cohen, and his friend and dog-child, Jules. More of his work can be found on http://www.JustAnotherAveragePerson.com

The Hearth - a poem by Dayeton Larson

The Hearth (***)(Word~pictures)

I kneel before the old hearth
It’ black and cold
Yet the charred wood laying there
Is warm and dry – waiting for a spark...

It once was young new and rough~ unfinished...
But now its old, smooth and with many flames to tell of
Sparks flew merrily through up the dark and inviting chimney
So ready to receive them only to cast them farther upward
To a sparkling dark eternal sky that displayed them for all to see

As you gaze into the hearth – the charred wood still there
You notice some unburned wood poised deep beneath the char
It’s still fresh! – ready! – waiting for just one more spark
To ignite a flame of passion, of warmth, of light ~ of love anew
To send sparks of joy up through that dark chimney -
to a waiting sky above ~ once again....

Like bursting fireworks flowering lights of freedom
Bursting forth casting sparkles over all that are gifted to see it manifesting...
Embracing subtle falling snatches – remnants of love that spawned from
Unplanned passion ~ as the spark so craved from the one that stands before
The hearth........

Dayeton Larson July 15th.2014

The Waitress - a poem by Audrey Austin

THE WAITRESS 

Wet rag wipes the table

Serviettes  wrap the stainless

Smile glued at the corners

She pretends it is painless. 

It’s too hot; it’s too cold

It’s still raw; it is burned

The cook pays no mind

While the server is spurned. 

Shifts short; she is part-time

Reliant on tips

She swallows her tears

With a smile on the lips.

 

(This poem has been selected for publication as a runner-up in the Ontario Poetry Society's  Arborealis Competition).

 

The Machinist - a poem by Audrey Austin

THE MACHINIST

Plugs are useless

Ipod forbidden

The noise incessant

From morning to night. 

Sparks are flying

Burns best kept hidden

Nothing forgiven

Machine must not cease.

 

Dreams filled with

Holidays, beaches and palms

Ha! Rent paid and bus fares

With each payday’s alms.

The Secretary - a poem by Audrey Austin

THE SECRETARY 

At his urging

fingers fly creating

greedy demands. 

In need of purging

ramrod back in chair

she perseveres. 

Nine to five

day in, day out

she keeps the dream

alive.

 

The Support Worker - a poem by Audrey Austin

THE SUPPORT WORKER 

Heart filled with hope

She lifts the large body

And lathers the soap. 

Hands that are caring

Erase not the vomit 

From scrubs she is wearing. 

Eyes search for life

Still dancing

Slow rhythms of strife.