HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!
Saturday, February 14, 2015
Friday, February 6, 2015
WEEP - a poem by Cindy J. Smith
WEEP
As you stand by my grave
Please do not weep for me
For from the shackles of life's woes
I am finally free
Weep for the homeless
Trying hard to cope
As they face each day
Without any hope
Weep for the greedy
Whether rich or poor
Who ignore what they have
Their hands held out for more
Weep for those who hunger
Makes them roam the streets
Searching through dumpsters
For something to eat
Weep for the young soldiers
Sent abroad to war
Who wonder what all
The destruction and death is for
Weep for the Veterans
Who every day face
The horrors they have seen
That their minds can't erase
Weep for the abused
Who fear for their life
Too scared to leave
Lover, husband or wife
Weep for those young women
Who just sought an escape
That got caught in the sex trades
And feel it's their fate
Weep for the addict
Be it alcohol or drugs
Unable to face a world
Where they feel so unloved
Weep for the children
Who are no longer shown
Only by being responsible
Are you ever truly grown
Weep for the single mothers
Who work night and day
Trying to make a home
So their child will be safe
Weep for the world
Filled with violence and hate
That instead of solving problems
Just holds lots of debates
I will weep for you
And stand by you each day
Hoping my tears will
Wash your grief away
© Cindy J. Smith
As you stand by my grave
Please do not weep for me
For from the shackles of life's woes
I am finally free
Weep for the homeless
Trying hard to cope
As they face each day
Without any hope
Weep for the greedy
Whether rich or poor
Who ignore what they have
Their hands held out for more
Weep for those who hunger
Makes them roam the streets
Searching through dumpsters
For something to eat
Weep for the young soldiers
Sent abroad to war
Who wonder what all
The destruction and death is for
Weep for the Veterans
Who every day face
The horrors they have seen
That their minds can't erase
Weep for the abused
Who fear for their life
Too scared to leave
Lover, husband or wife
Weep for those young women
Who just sought an escape
That got caught in the sex trades
And feel it's their fate
Weep for the addict
Be it alcohol or drugs
Unable to face a world
Where they feel so unloved
Weep for the children
Who are no longer shown
Only by being responsible
Are you ever truly grown
Weep for the single mothers
Who work night and day
Trying to make a home
So their child will be safe
Weep for the world
Filled with violence and hate
That instead of solving problems
Just holds lots of debates
I will weep for you
And stand by you each day
Hoping my tears will
Wash your grief away
© Cindy J. Smith
Tuesday, February 3, 2015
ALAS - a poem by Cindy J. Smith
ALAS
It seems that life
Is so unfair
When failing health...
Causes one despair
It seems that life
Is so unfair
When failing health...
Causes one despair
Tempted to cry
Oh, Woe is me
Invite all to
Pity Party
But take a look
See others who
Are so much worse
Off than poor you
Child with cancer
Fighting for life
Husband grieving
Loss of his wife
Woman who had
Baby stillborn
Her hopes and dreams
Completely torn
Families in
War zone country
Daily seeking
A bit of safety
Your condition
Is in new light
When others needs
Are in your sight
© Cindy J. Smith
Oh, Woe is me
Invite all to
Pity Party
But take a look
See others who
Are so much worse
Off than poor you
Child with cancer
Fighting for life
Husband grieving
Loss of his wife
Woman who had
Baby stillborn
Her hopes and dreams
Completely torn
Families in
War zone country
Daily seeking
A bit of safety
Your condition
Is in new light
When others needs
Are in your sight
© Cindy J. Smith
Saturday, January 31, 2015
Here Is My Feast Of Crystal Splendor - a poem by Tasha Halpert
Here Is My Feast Of Crystal splendor
Now the landscape is still.
Grasses are stiff, rimed with frost.
Bare trees sleep,
dreaming of warmth as yet distant.
But a new beauty imbues their branches
their essential selves emerge
in a pattern of graceful tracery
against the winter sky.
I am become ice
caressing the garden with my cold kisses,
taming wavelets to stillness.
Here is my feast of crystal splendor
displayed in masses of diamonds
that sparkle everywhere to see.
How beautiful I am, and how pristine.
Relish my beauty, but do not touch me
lest you suffer from the frost.
I magnify the light,
extending its power to dazzle the eye.
Soft snow shrouds me in a white fur cloak,
muffling sound, softening hard edges.
But I crack branches,
scour stones, and buffet cliffs.
Locked out of life I pry at openings to get
in.
I am envious of warmth,
and will not melt before my time,
nor give way when the light begins to
lengthen.
Some call me cruel, others kind,
knowing that
all life needs to sleep,
that old forms crumble to make way for new.
But
light persists. At last I soften in the warmth,
beguiled,
I loosen my clasp until
irresistibly compelled I yield myself at
last
to Spring's embrace and fall asleep
to drowse the warm away,
knowing that I will wake again one day.
Tasha Halpert
Saturday, January 17, 2015
The Apples and The Cantaloupes - a poem by Jurgen Braunohler
THE APPLES AND THE CANTALOUPES
The World is such a fruity place,
You can toss it for a loop.
My Mother was the juggling Ace ...
With Apples and the Cantaloupes.
The World is such a fruity place,
You can toss it for a loop.
My Mother was the juggling Ace ...
With Apples and the Cantaloupes.
Sweets and fruits a-plenty
Were the visions in her childhood mind.
War and poverty left her hungry
In ways that were just most unkind.
She left behind that ravaged land
And came by ship to Canada.
What she saw then was so grand:
With fruits that made her shout "Aha!"
Our kitchen had enough to spare
With food from every group,
But always in the corner
Were the Apples and the Cantaloupes.
My Mother was a wonder
With all the things that she could do.
Whenever I had a question,
She reached for a handy Cantaloupe.
"Mummy, how are babies made?"
This posed no major problem:
An Apple and a Cantaloupe
Sure gave the explanation.
Questions about the Sun and Moon?
Why we have our night and day?
A flashlight on some dancing fruits
Lit things right away.
Evenings on the sofa
In our stormbound summer cottage,
A plate of peaches came at me:
Good health was Mother's message.
But when girls became the issue
and this boy got quite silly,
"I'll fix your wagon, you!"
Was my seasoned Mother's play.
She sent me to an artists' school
To sketch and draw bare naked women.
I came home each time in a state of drool,
But my Mother saw the omen.
I feasted on this subject daily,
In every shape and form,
Until I got so fully sated
That I became quite bored.
Women, Apples, Cantaloupes,
The Baubles dancing in my brain,
Became so really tedious
That I wanted off the train.
With all my drawings done and stuffed into my tote,
Mother asked me once again just what it was I drew...
As my Baubles now were sailboats,
She winked and passed the Cantaloupe!
Jurgen Braunohler,
Mother's Day, 2010.
Were the visions in her childhood mind.
War and poverty left her hungry
In ways that were just most unkind.
She left behind that ravaged land
And came by ship to Canada.
What she saw then was so grand:
With fruits that made her shout "Aha!"
Our kitchen had enough to spare
With food from every group,
But always in the corner
Were the Apples and the Cantaloupes.
My Mother was a wonder
With all the things that she could do.
Whenever I had a question,
She reached for a handy Cantaloupe.
"Mummy, how are babies made?"
This posed no major problem:
An Apple and a Cantaloupe
Sure gave the explanation.
Questions about the Sun and Moon?
Why we have our night and day?
A flashlight on some dancing fruits
Lit things right away.
Evenings on the sofa
In our stormbound summer cottage,
A plate of peaches came at me:
Good health was Mother's message.
But when girls became the issue
and this boy got quite silly,
"I'll fix your wagon, you!"
Was my seasoned Mother's play.
She sent me to an artists' school
To sketch and draw bare naked women.
I came home each time in a state of drool,
But my Mother saw the omen.
I feasted on this subject daily,
In every shape and form,
Until I got so fully sated
That I became quite bored.
Women, Apples, Cantaloupes,
The Baubles dancing in my brain,
Became so really tedious
That I wanted off the train.
With all my drawings done and stuffed into my tote,
Mother asked me once again just what it was I drew...
As my Baubles now were sailboats,
She winked and passed the Cantaloupe!
Jurgen Braunohler,
Mother's Day, 2010.
Friday, January 16, 2015
PETER THE SWELL - a poem by Jurgen Braunohler
PETER THE SWELL.
There's a noble fleet of whalers, somewhere in Newfielands.
They're sailed by Peter Myers and his crew of Merry Hams.
They sing right in the shower. They sing far out at sea.
They sing way up at Eddie Blacks, and 'round the Christmas tree (Yo!)
Peter is a swell guy, who sailed the Newfie seas.
He steamed across to Port au Basques in a great and merry breeze.
He didn't have his dinner, and he didn't have his tea.
But he had his darling Newfie wife, and to Twillingate went he
Now Jurgen is a bugger, who will sail to Port au Basques.
He'll swim across the Cabot Strait, when his sailboat breaks its mast.
He'll never have his dinner, and he'll never have his tea.
He doesn't even have a wife! So he's gone to find one, see?
When the years have gone and passed us, and we've retired from the sea,
we'll sit around at Port au Basques, and drink our Newfie tea.
We'll have our darling wifiedoos, and eat our dinners too.
Hopefully we'll live that long, sooooooo, Happy New Year, to You!
a note from the poet, Jurgen Braunohler: One more thing: Black's was a photo lab, and I was belting out sea songs in the darkroom to Peter's amusement. I mention this so you will know what all the Blacks and singing business is about.
There's a noble fleet of whalers, somewhere in Newfielands.
They're sailed by Peter Myers and his crew of Merry Hams.
They sing right in the shower. They sing far out at sea.
They sing way up at Eddie Blacks, and 'round the Christmas tree (Yo!)
Peter is a swell guy, who sailed the Newfie seas.
He steamed across to Port au Basques in a great and merry breeze.
He didn't have his dinner, and he didn't have his tea.
But he had his darling Newfie wife, and to Twillingate went he
Now Jurgen is a bugger, who will sail to Port au Basques.
He'll swim across the Cabot Strait, when his sailboat breaks its mast.
He'll never have his dinner, and he'll never have his tea.
He doesn't even have a wife! So he's gone to find one, see?
When the years have gone and passed us, and we've retired from the sea,
we'll sit around at Port au Basques, and drink our Newfie tea.
We'll have our darling wifiedoos, and eat our dinners too.
Hopefully we'll live that long, sooooooo, Happy New Year, to You!
a note from the poet, Jurgen Braunohler: One more thing: Black's was a photo lab, and I was belting out sea songs in the darkroom to Peter's amusement. I mention this so you will know what all the Blacks and singing business is about.
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
There's a Bitter-Sweetness here -- a poem by Yotanka Coicou
Every expiration teaches something
Death-destined....tender rasping
The drip drip of intravenous existence
Death-destined....tender rasping
The drip drip of intravenous existence
Where words run on for much too long
We have never been closer....they say
Yet....you're not the flesh....we knew
There's a bitter-sweetness here
We can't endure
The wailing
We have not yet composed
The shooting star is dead
We lie....wrapped in abstraction
So lonely....so lonely together
So many ancient questions
Fester beneath the skin
In the progression of discrete collapse
The sliced Earth waits for burial
A cemetery....for trusting seeds
We shake the nettles from our clothes
The burrs....clinging for....dear life
Oracle....for no written word
Bellows....that spark
By permission of the author,
Yotanka Coicou
© Telling Tales 2010
We have never been closer....they say
Yet....you're not the flesh....we knew
There's a bitter-sweetness here
We can't endure
The wailing
We have not yet composed
The shooting star is dead
We lie....wrapped in abstraction
So lonely....so lonely together
So many ancient questions
Fester beneath the skin
In the progression of discrete collapse
The sliced Earth waits for burial
A cemetery....for trusting seeds
We shake the nettles from our clothes
The burrs....clinging for....dear life
Oracle....for no written word
Bellows....that spark
By permission of the author,
Yotanka Coicou
© Telling Tales 2010
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
HAPPY NEW YEAR 2015
HAPPY NEW YEAR 2015
TO
POETS EVERYWHERE.
WISHING YOU PEACE, HEALTH, PROSPERITY
AND JOY IN ALL THAT COMES YOUR WAY.
Monday, December 22, 2014
Empty Seats - a poem by Bud Skinner
Empty Seats
No more candy or toys neath the tree.
No more magic from Santa to me.
As a child his arrival was pure thrill.
Now an adult all I receive, the bills.
It's still a treat when loved ones gather.
Each CHRISTmas day a room of chatter.
To watch the surprise as all gifts are shown.
Some wondering how their desires were known.
Eating more food than you should handle.
The tensile and the advent candles.
The hugs and kisses neath the mistletoe.
The relief, the sorrow as people go.
Not good, empty chairs, more than a few.
Of all the loved ones your life once knew.
Memories brought back of Christmases past.
Thoughts of the passing of time, oh so fast.
But this holiday is so much more,
Than presents, trees and wreaths on your door.
More than fam'ly, presents and food galore.
It's about Mary and the babe she bore.
It's all about that night, over twenty centuries ago.
When a baby in a feeding trough was lit by a stars glow.
A God come to earth to give the ultimate gift.
To later die on a cross so we could yet live.
So now, think once again of empty chairs.
Not those in front of you, but those up there.
All the vacant seats behind Heaven's door.
Your Christmas in Heaven for evermore.
Bud Skinner
No more candy or toys neath the tree.
No more magic from Santa to me.
As a child his arrival was pure thrill.
Now an adult all I receive, the bills.
It's still a treat when loved ones gather.
Each CHRISTmas day a room of chatter.
To watch the surprise as all gifts are shown.
Some wondering how their desires were known.
Eating more food than you should handle.
The tensile and the advent candles.
The hugs and kisses neath the mistletoe.
The relief, the sorrow as people go.
Not good, empty chairs, more than a few.
Of all the loved ones your life once knew.
Memories brought back of Christmases past.
Thoughts of the passing of time, oh so fast.
But this holiday is so much more,
Than presents, trees and wreaths on your door.
More than fam'ly, presents and food galore.
It's about Mary and the babe she bore.
It's all about that night, over twenty centuries ago.
When a baby in a feeding trough was lit by a stars glow.
A God come to earth to give the ultimate gift.
To later die on a cross so we could yet live.
So now, think once again of empty chairs.
Not those in front of you, but those up there.
All the vacant seats behind Heaven's door.
Your Christmas in Heaven for evermore.
Bud Skinner
Sunday, December 21, 2014
A Christmas Wish, a poem by Audrey Austin
A
CHRISTMAS WISH
A time of love, a time for sharing
Let’s find new ways to light the path
While old traditions tried and true
Express how much we’re caring
For our family,
For our friends,
For people ‘round our hungry world.
A time of peace, a time for laughter
Let’s find new ways to share the love
While old relationships hold fast
We’ll open hearts, extend our reach
To neighbours near,
To friends afar,
To those with whom we’ve yet to meet.
A time of joy, a time to remember
The holy birth of the blessed child
Who gave us the reason
To celebrate this season
A season of love, of caring, of sharing,
Love brightens the path of all who journey
Transforms the lives of all who are weary.
Hold the light, share the light, be the light.
Merry Christmas!
(This poem is included in my poetry anthology
titled "Poetry from A to Z"
available on all Amazon sites.)
Merry Christmas! I wish you peace, health, prosperity,
and the joy of poetry shared.
Friday, December 5, 2014
Frozen In Time - a poem by Sarah Emily Cregan
Frozen in Time
From the heavens above
I fall to the earth
Perfect in every way
I feel the crisp air
As I float along
Without any cares
From the heavens above
I fall to the earth
Searching for you
To share my beauty
I am yours truely
What seems like forever
Is not long enough
For when I land
On your warm skin
I melt away
This moment in time
Is just for you and I
From the heavens above.
Visit the poetry site of Sarah Emily Cregan, http://allpoetry.com/Dragonshadow
From the heavens above
I fall to the earth
Perfect in every way
I feel the crisp air
As I float along
Without any cares
From the heavens above
I fall to the earth
Searching for you
To share my beauty
I am yours truely
What seems like forever
Is not long enough
For when I land
On your warm skin
I melt away
This moment in time
Is just for you and I
From the heavens above.
Visit the poetry site of Sarah Emily Cregan, http://allpoetry.com/Dragonshadow
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
Monday, October 27, 2014
Infinite Mercy by Eva Ruby Austin
As I rise from my bed each morning
To begin the chores of the day
I thank the Lord for His goodness
With my lips I silently pray,
I pray that He'll guide my footsteps,
That I may not falter or fall;
That I may be true and faithful
And loving to one and all.
My God is One who will answer
With what is best for me.
He knows the path that I follow,
And the pitfalls I cannot see.
I'll trust Him for the future,
I'll trust Him to endless day;
For He in his infinite Mercy
Will pilot me all the way.
Eva Ruby Austin
In Memory of Mom by Eleanor Lambert - Bermuda
In Memory of Mom
It's hard to believe 24 years have gone by,
Since our precious Mom went to her home on high.
To be with her Saviour, she served and loved,
To the home prepared for her in Heaven above.
Since Dad left before her, children grown and left home,
She found herself most of the time very much alone.
Her family phoned or visited as often as we could,
Even her eldest daughter had to fly and fly she would.
A joy to be with her, playing games or browsing stores,
And when all alone she wrote great poetry by the score.
Many things had happened since she was called away,
Lots of things to share with her had she been left to stay.
Every day at different times memories come our way,
Though absent she is missed, loved, dear, every day.
Written by Eleanor (Austin) Lambert
It's hard to believe 24 years have gone by,
Since our precious Mom went to her home on high.
To be with her Saviour, she served and loved,
To the home prepared for her in Heaven above.
Since Dad left before her, children grown and left home,
She found herself most of the time very much alone.
Her family phoned or visited as often as we could,
Even her eldest daughter had to fly and fly she would.
A joy to be with her, playing games or browsing stores,
And when all alone she wrote great poetry by the score.
Many things had happened since she was called away,
Lots of things to share with her had she been left to stay.
Every day at different times memories come our way,
Though absent she is missed, loved, dear, every day.
Written by Eleanor (Austin) Lambert
Friday, August 29, 2014
A World Without Love - a poem by Rima N. Jaber
A World Without LOVE
I heard a story of a boy born without love,
His father gave all to his mother,
And she ran away taking it all,...
Leaving her children behind,
This young man was telling his story to his girlfriend
In a restaurant sitting behind me,
I wanted so much to see his face,
Thu I felt I can't face his sorrow and his pain,
They left and I couldn't stop thinking about how can this happen,
How can people get married only for money,
How can a mother leave her children alone,
And on their own,
Why money is all we want??
All we strive for, all we are living for??
Why are we so blind??
Selling our hearts and soul and leave everything behind??
For things which will vanish,
And things which have no value,
The real value is Love,
The real treasure is true feelings,
The real purpose of life is only love,
What we thrive for is only love,
What we live for is love,
If we can't give love to our surrounding,
Tell me why are we living??
Is it to accumulate more money??
Is it to steal others and hurt them??
Just for this stupid matter and say we gonna live better,
How can we be so shallow thinking
that matter can give us all??
How can we exchange love with soil??
How can we live with such a lie??
I tried to understand all my life this kind of people,
But could never understand they just made me disgusted,
The blindness and this killing sickness,
Made me pity them but their greed is making them cross all limits,
See our world is build on this kind of tragedies,
And it's spreading so quickly, don't know where it's going??
We have to wake up teach our children the value of love,
By giving it to them and showing them the truth,
The problem is all media and T.Vs lost all kind of morals,
And it's a hard task to rectify the image,
I believe in Love and nothing can change my heart,
Spreading it is the duty of every true heart,
And after all love will prevail,
No matter how it's hard now,
We're little candles born on this Earth
To kill the darkness and spread LOVE again..
Love you all
{{#OneLove}}
Rima N. Jaber
© August 29, 2014
~ ☼ ~
I heard a story of a boy born without love,
His father gave all to his mother,
And she ran away taking it all,...
Leaving her children behind,
This young man was telling his story to his girlfriend
In a restaurant sitting behind me,
I wanted so much to see his face,
Thu I felt I can't face his sorrow and his pain,
They left and I couldn't stop thinking about how can this happen,
How can people get married only for money,
How can a mother leave her children alone,
And on their own,
Why money is all we want??
All we strive for, all we are living for??
Why are we so blind??
Selling our hearts and soul and leave everything behind??
For things which will vanish,
And things which have no value,
The real value is Love,
The real treasure is true feelings,
The real purpose of life is only love,
What we thrive for is only love,
What we live for is love,
If we can't give love to our surrounding,
Tell me why are we living??
Is it to accumulate more money??
Is it to steal others and hurt them??
Just for this stupid matter and say we gonna live better,
How can we be so shallow thinking
that matter can give us all??
How can we exchange love with soil??
How can we live with such a lie??
I tried to understand all my life this kind of people,
But could never understand they just made me disgusted,
The blindness and this killing sickness,
Made me pity them but their greed is making them cross all limits,
See our world is build on this kind of tragedies,
And it's spreading so quickly, don't know where it's going??
We have to wake up teach our children the value of love,
By giving it to them and showing them the truth,
The problem is all media and T.Vs lost all kind of morals,
And it's a hard task to rectify the image,
I believe in Love and nothing can change my heart,
Spreading it is the duty of every true heart,
And after all love will prevail,
No matter how it's hard now,
We're little candles born on this Earth
To kill the darkness and spread LOVE again..
Love you all
{{#OneLove}}
Rima N. Jaber
© August 29, 2014
~ ☼ ~
Thursday, August 21, 2014
Just a thought POV - a poem by Cindy J. Smith
Just a thought!
POV
You can look at dark clouds
And count the rain drops
Or scan for the puddles
And do "Puddle hops"
You can look at morning
As the end of sweet dreams
Or see a beginning
Of all your hope schemes
You can look at heartbreak
As the end of all true love
Or gather the message
It's sending from above
You can look at your life
As a challenge, a test
Or an amusement park
And pick rides that are best
© Cindy J. Smith
POV
You can look at dark clouds
And count the rain drops
Or scan for the puddles
And do "Puddle hops"
You can look at morning
As the end of sweet dreams
Or see a beginning
Of all your hope schemes
You can look at heartbreak
As the end of all true love
Or gather the message
It's sending from above
You can look at your life
As a challenge, a test
Or an amusement park
And pick rides that are best
© Cindy J. Smith
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
CURSE - a poem by Cindy J. Smith
CURSE
A greater curse
I cannot find
Than to be lost
Within your mind
Reality is
Out of your reach
Cannot explain
With jumbled speech
Don't remember
What you have done
Or why it was
Ever begun
Family tries
But bridges burned
Frustration leads
To no concern
Locked in your mind
Through day and night
Life is not fun
But daily fight
You can't show love
Nor share your fears
Nor feel their hugs
Nor see their tears
Pray for the ones
Who cannot cope
For families
Who've lost all hope
© Cindy J. Smith
A greater curse
I cannot find
Than to be lost
Within your mind
Reality is
Out of your reach
Cannot explain
With jumbled speech
Don't remember
What you have done
Or why it was
Ever begun
Family tries
But bridges burned
Frustration leads
To no concern
Locked in your mind
Through day and night
Life is not fun
But daily fight
You can't show love
Nor share your fears
Nor feel their hugs
Nor see their tears
Pray for the ones
Who cannot cope
For families
Who've lost all hope
© Cindy J. Smith
Tuesday, August 5, 2014
Happy Birthday In Heaven, Mom -- a poem by Eleanor Lambert
IN MEMORY OF OUR MOM’S 108TH
BIRTHDAY
to the stores even just to browse,
And walk around from store to store,
it seems for hours and hours.
I will never forget the many many times
we went to the C N E;
Twenty four years ago
our dear Mother was laid to rest,
our dear Mother was laid to rest,
It
seems like only yesterday
she was by our side, full of zest.
she was by our side, full of zest.
We
have many memories
of the times we had together
of the times we had together
She
was always so full of life
no matter what the weather.
no matter what the weather.
to the stores even just to browse,
And walk around from store to store,
it seems for hours and hours.
I will never forget the many many times
we went to the C N E;
Always
so much fun to go with her,
as she was always so full of glee.
as she was always so full of glee.
Not one
to spend a lot of money
but she loved her chewing gum,
And there was never a dull moment
when we were with “OUR MOM”
but she loved her chewing gum,
And there was never a dull moment
when we were with “OUR MOM”
She
would make us laugh
until we cried,
until we cried,
Oh,
the fun we had
just to be by her side.
just to be by her side.
Now we
are all looking forward
to that great day,
to that great day,
When
we will be with her again
in our Home far away.
in our Home far away.
I know
that she is there
and is looking down on us,
And know that she is praying
that we will not miss THAT BUS.
and is looking down on us,
And know that she is praying
that we will not miss THAT BUS.
She is
hoping we will be ready
when our time comes to die,
when our time comes to die,
So
that we will be with all be together
with JESUS in our Home
with JESUS in our Home
“ON
HIGH”
HAPPY BIRTHDAY IN HEAVEN
HAPPY BIRTHDAY IN HEAVEN
“MOM”
Friday, August 1, 2014
"Painting Life" - a poem by Cindy J. Smith
PAINTING LIFE
As you move on
From day to day
You paint your world
Along the way
Take a good look
At pallet please
Lots of choices
You will now see
Life is not just
Dull grey and black
Use your paintbrush
Put color back!
Violet, red
Yellow and blue too
Why don't you try
Using a few?
Cindy J. Smith
As you move on
From day to day
You paint your world
Along the way
Take a good look
At pallet please
Lots of choices
You will now see
Life is not just
Dull grey and black
Use your paintbrush
Put color back!
Violet, red
Yellow and blue too
Why don't you try
Using a few?
Cindy J. Smith
Wednesday, July 30, 2014
Sunday, July 27, 2014
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.
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
Sunday, July 20, 2014
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
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
Friday, July 4, 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.
Monday, June 30, 2014
Saturday, June 14, 2014
DUDLEY - a poem by Eleanor Lambert, Bermuda.
Our precious pet dog lived to a ripe old age
Because of the love and care his mistress gave.
He was a happy dog and just loved to bark
To welcome guests who came by daytime or dark.
He loved to have his picture taken and was always full of fun
He also loved to go for walks and to the lake for a good run.
He was very obedient, very well trained as any dog could be
These are reasons why we all loved him so our precious dog
DUDLEY
A poem of remembrance by Eleanor Lambert, Bermuda.
Because of the love and care his mistress gave.
He was a happy dog and just loved to bark
To welcome guests who came by daytime or dark.
He loved to have his picture taken and was always full of fun
He also loved to go for walks and to the lake for a good run.
He was very obedient, very well trained as any dog could be
These are reasons why we all loved him so our precious dog
DUDLEY
A poem of remembrance by Eleanor Lambert, Bermuda.
Friday, June 13, 2014
Sunday, June 1, 2014
Her Sweet Kisses Stained with Tears - a poem by Dayeton Larson
Her
Sweet Kisses Stained
with
Tears
D.Larson Aug.12th.2011
I wake up again, the night is far spent
She clutches to my body, in desperation –
seemingly
Her kisses so emphatic, seeking
reassurance
With
intensity like none other
Her
sweet kisses stained with tears
I tell her that I love her, once again from my
heart
Then we hold each other so dearly and so very
close
An eternal embrace that cannot be ever
broke
With
an intensity like none other
Her
sweet kisses stained with tears
She sobs with such great passion, “I miss our kids and
home”
With their voices calling out “Mom I’m
home”
Yes - our children are all gone now, and we hold each other
tenderly
With
intensity like none other
Her
sweet kisses stained with tears
I
comfort her and reassure, our love just will not fail
We
came this far, not looking back, We’ll go on forever more
Our
children will fulfill their lives, and succeed where we have
failed
But
they’ll love us just as we loved them
With
sweet kisses stained with tears.
A kiss - oh a kiss so pure, with a hug not ending,
True love that never ends, such a wondrous
blessing
Such passion that never faded, such joy that still we
share
With
intensity like none other
Her
sweet kisses stained with tears
With
intensity like none other
Yes,
I’ll kiss away her tears
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