OPEN MIC ARCHIVES
Encore I June, 2003
Encore II June, 2003
Encore III June, 2003
Poetry is our Cafe
Mary Gonzalez (c) 2003
Pouring metaphors into tiny teacups,
Our words..oops..worlds collided one September day
Sipping, merrily our tea,
we shared a piece of cake together
Our ears drunk with words...our Poetry
Our souls slowing becoming lovers
Sitting at table number three,
The waiter took our orders,
Served us toast and Rosy Lee
As we two sat deep in thoughts pondering one another.
Poetry is our Cafe,
And words our favorite brew,
It seems like only yesterday,
In a cozy little cafe, two bards met...me and you!
=0=
Like water spilling
Joy N. Owen
like water spilling over the edge
my soul reaches out to you.
if you enter here, be still.
be still with me and reflect:
on who you are,
really are ...
be awakened by the uniqueness of you
dream of the endless possibilities
and live ... love ...
and be whole ...
one with nature, one with essence,
one with you ...
=0=
MARIE
Linda Mortensen
Marie, do you find the roses turning blue in Autumn,
or do they tell you to color them green,
when your blue eyes are weeping and things are too much,
I could tell you a story but you don't like my touch,
"Touché", you tell me, the night is always dark,
I found a fortune in my garbage can and my lipstick is fading.
I've never seen a rainbow after the rain,
but I have hidden underground in strange shelters,
my face wearing the hatred of your years,
you know the games I play every night
but the door is locked against you.
If what you're saying is true then I have my release,
the key exists somewhere beyond hope and longing,
remembering the night
is the only way out.
Doubt is belief to me, I can call the blue sky mauve
and leave my paintbrush standing in the pail
as raindrops do their duty in the Fall
and my smile turns to silver.
=0=
Poems to be recited at the beach.
D. Russell 6/5/03
eager swollen waves
burst life up on the shore
the children know
pirouette of foam
pale arms and fingers reach
dancer on the beach
slender fingers, dying wave,
clutch at my feet and slip away
I cannot hold you
hem of tattered lace
train of mirrored sky
departing wave goodbye
=0=
POEM IN FRENCH
Luke Peacock
When I ask the cab driver if we're close he says Yes,
except in France, they don't say yes, they say Oui.
He asks what I'm here for, and in my broken French
the best I can manage is "For making poems."
I know it's not a good reason, making poems,
I say, and he asks if I need change. "Yes,"
I say back, forgetting my French.
"I mean, I'm sorry, Oui."
"Oui," he says. We
sit quiet; I look through some poems.
I stop bothering with my half-French.
"Do you speak English?" I ask. He replies, "Yes,"
and I laugh. "Is this the hotel?" "Yes."
"Thank you." And then he's gone. We
sat in the cab for nearly an hour together, my French
and his English, and never spoke. I should write a poem
about that, I think. Yes. I mean, Oui.
And here it is: this poem, in French.
n.estick
when it wont listen, i put it in the back of my mind
trying to recall it, i remember our bad times
looking at the pictures that once brought smiles
looking now brings a pain that seems unable to subside
everything once sweet, taste so bitter
eyes of love, now those of a stranger
when it wont listen, i write it down
and i'll tell my tale for those to listen now
=0=
February Quatrains
by Bill Albright
The past is past
Tomorrow is to come
Neither is now
Be happy that today reigns supreme.
My lust was implanted in a yesterday
Only I may recall the pleasure and pain,
Ask of your yesterday if passion is lost
Your tomorrow is fixed today.
I look down the long road
To see a traveler who returns to tell us secrets
The message board remains blank
No one returns.
I there gain in our coming and going
Does a carpet emerge from the weaving of life
A beginning and end is assumed
The mass is more than each thread.
An old man's heart is not a spring
Life's reservoir is fed daily
With waters which ebb and flow
Tides of reality and fantasy
A moment is fruit
Timely harvest each
Prize those of NOW
Time is the enemy.
=0=
The Britney Spears Poster
By: Andrew M. Higgins
Little Billy got great presents over the years
But one he treasured the most was a poster of Britney Spears
His friends always turned him into a joke
He put it over his bed so he saw it when he woke
He said this poster I will always keep
He blew it a kiss and went to sleep
That night the poster fell and covered his face
Little Billy suffocated and went to a better place
=0=
SAD SATURDAY NIGHT
by Ben Laney copyright June 2003
I got some Annie's
Home-grown Macaroni
And I'm sippin' on a cold cup
Of grind your own coffee
Far away from the city lights
A dog is barking
The deep night is falling
Here in my darkness
I don't hear you calling
It's gonna be a sad, sad, sad saturday night
I had a feeling
You wouldn't be showing
Lately you've been reeling
Like a leaf that's blowing
Round and round in a hurricane
I hope that later
You feel a little better
Then, maybe later
We can pull together
Far away from the city lights
It's gonna be a sad, sad, sad saturday night
=0=
honeysuckle
a cloud of gnats drifts
over the pond
martin
=0=
Poem 1, Untitled:
Our dead are here
(breathe, a name)
and so we are here
look, child your eye
you are on hallowed
For there was a Great
Sit for a while now
we too have work to do
Poem 2, Untitled:
Sit child here
know this place
our dead are here
know your breath as
a surf
your tongue gives life to name
Here, aloud
your breath
Hear the name
come to rest on the shore
Dina
=0=
MY BROTHER
KIMBERLY EARLY
SOMETIMES WE ARGUE AND DON'T GET ALONG
BUT IN MY HEART YOU WILL ALWAYS BELONG.
WE USE TO RIDE OUR BIKES THROUGH TOWN,
CUT GRASS AND HANG AROUND.
PLAY POOL AND THROW THE BALL; WE DID IT ALL.
EXPLORING NEW PLACES; I CAN STILL SEE OUR YOUNG FACES
FINDING TREASURES AND HOPING TO MAKE IT RICH
WE WERE ALWAYS IN A NEW DITCH.
PICKING UP CANS AND SELLING THEM FOR MONEY.
THAT MEMORY IS ALWAYS FUNNY.
I WILL LAUGH AND REMEMBER THE GOOD TIMES WE HAD
EVEN THOUGH SOMETIMES WE WERE BAD.
YOU EVEN ACTED LIKE MY DAD; TELLING ME WHAT TO DO.
BUT I KNEW THAT WAS JUST YOU.
NOW THAT WE ARE GROWN AND HAVE FAMILIES OF OUR OWN
I SEE OUR KIDS RUN AND PLAY
LIKE WE DID EACH AND EVERY DAY.
AND WONDER HOW THEY WILL BE WHEN THEY ARE OUT ON THEIR OWN
ARE THEY GOING TO BE CLOSE LIKE YOU AND ME?
=0=
Questions
By: Cassandra Michelle Bennett
Sometimes I ask myself questions,
Questions that now seem so daunting,
So hard to understand.
Will I be just as cold as my mother,
Will I hit my kids as she did,
Will I be different?
To some this might sound stupid,
So utterly laughable,
But is it?
Will I change the pattern,
Will I love my kids as they will me,
Will I encourage them along the way?
But to me these questions haunt me,
These questions utterly frighten me,
Because I long to be the mother she could never be!
Will I be who I could be,
Will I be a better mother,
Will I be a mother they can respect?
Sometimes I ask myself questions,
Questions that now seem so daunting,
So hard to understand.
=0=
Tomorrow is another day
Dennis Allen
Where has all the time gone?
I used to hear the old ones say
They'd set and reminisce about the good ole days
I'd hear them make keen observations
You might hear someone say
What happened to that Quickie Mart?
Did you see there their a puttin' that buildin' on Grey
They'd talk of death in the same way
The sorrowful observation that a love one had passed away
Now I am older, now I hear myself say
Where has all the time gone?
Now I set and reminisce in much the same way
I notice that the world has changed
I remember the things that went before that are not here today
I mourn the loss of my friends, that have past away
I'm glade I got to know them is all that I can say
I look toward tomorrow to that strange new day
To the future of the children and their children I pray
They find the wisdom for tomorrow is another day
=0=
The Candle And The Moth
BY Anwaar N. Hassan
In aimless flight, on forlorn treks,
Thought and deed…mindless wrecks
Chanced I upon thy gentle light
In breathless wonder … silent delight.
Heart ‘aflutter, mind insane,
No heed of fear or thought of pain;
Oh! silent beacon of the night,
Beckons me, thy glorious light.
That you and I be one and same
So burns the need to match thy flame
Cease thy tears for this fate of mine
Lest thou perish before my time.
=0=
Freedom
Elisabeth K. Hughes
So many lost their lives,
All prematurely gone
All in hateful wars, some not our own.
The call went out, they bravely went forward
Not knowing what was to come
Not knowing if they'd return.
They tearfully said goodbye
While hoping the war was short.
They went to their posts
and patiently waited for the enemy to come
And they fought. They fought for love,
revenge, unity, faith, speech, but above all, They fought for freedom.
So many lost their lives,
So we could live in peace,
So we could live day to day without worry,
Thank you.
Thanks to all of you who sacrificed,
Thanks to all of you who returned,
Thanks to all of you, who made my freedom reality
May you never be forgotten.
=0=
DEAR MR SANDMAN
-nidhi bhandari
give me a dream,
a beautiful one
of hope and peace
in this world of ours
give me a dream,
of the splendid sort
for it seems
all of mine have gone
give me a dream,
the heavenly type
of ecstasy and joy
in wonderland
give me a dream,
that lingers on
with aftertastes of happiness
since most of mine has been lost
give me a dream,
a surreal one
for its true as they say
ignorance is bliss
or you could
just give me the dreams
i had as a child.
=0=
Red as Blue
janu dilwala
This desire is like fire,
When you give it light, it burns so bright,
This passion is my possession,
When you look at me life has no aggression.
Oceans are pure; love is a cure,
Let me love you like never before.
The stars are out,
Night is beyond doubt,
The clouds are far,
Truly amazing you are.
Oceans are pure; love is a cure,
Let me love you like never before.
Let God know how much I love you,
Tell my eyes you of a few,
Do not leave my side,
It would hurt deep inside,
Oceans are pure; love is a cure,
Let me love you like never before.
=0=
JASMINE
NTSIKAYOMZI PEMBA
i was in bed today-jasmine
the patterns valentino sketches-differ from our last meet
it seems i have been the torch of armed robbery
poor-my heart grows profusely
i stood with the still leaves-the still leaves
once they swayed from dusk till dawn
they now borne by a dutiful mourn
i shiver at the sordid breeze-the inhibitions freeze
botanical gardens no longer breathe
unable are they to diffuse the beauty... the beauty
the flower stolen-my first tear broken
i can no longer entertain this holy grail
i am much too frail
jasmine.
SUFFERING THE TWILIGHTS.
Durlabh Singh.
Suffering the twilights
In prowls of darkness
Bywords for restless nights
Hungry for the taste of
Some piercing dawn.
That might lift the veil
The painted expressions
The vacant streets
Receptions for
The evening trials
A melancholy for
The afternoon greets.
Hungry for the passions
Like souled firmament
Some sour perfumes
A taste that enflames
A bitter sour phase
For the tamarind rind.
Sermons do not nourish me
Vacant eyes do not flourish me
Dialects do not merge me
Power legend do not surge me.
Suffering the twilights
I ask for illuminations
Breaking the grounds
A sense for tribulations
An abandonment
Perhaps for all
Forms in the subordinations.
=0=
STARSTRUCK
BRITTANY COLLINS
Watch the start cry your name,
and watch all night for your arrival.
They flaunt their shine and pray for your acknowledgement,
knowing you're more than they deserve.
They stare in awe as you round the moon,
just looking for a sun to call your own.
You pass them by with a slight nod,
and they retreat in starstruck love.
You sigh as you pass me,
but give me a longer glance.
I shrink into my shell,
for fear I have a chance.
=0=
CALM
by Molly Wheeler
I feel, perhaps, that the battle within me is ending.
All the soldiers, bloodied and tired,
drop their swords, in the dusty red moonlight
of my mind.
The breeze rustles the leaves outside
and it is NOT a vision of my death,
it is not a lonely vision of the finite,
behind the glass.
Cups of coffee are cups of coffee
and not a scalding piece of
some kind of hell, which burns, just
inside the cup.
The couch is comfortable furniture,
and not a waiting place,
a purgatory, holding my suffocation
within these walls.
I kind of miss the metaphors, but I kind of like the calm.
=0=
Each day as the world turns
My words get lost
In the mist of time
Forever they will remain
Till the end of time.
As for the water in the sea
And the wind in the air.
Will control the path
My words would take.
Drifting through the ears
Of many
Till they seize
When time would end.
sk5sam
=0=
BRAIN GAS
Merrie K. Miller
Peck-a Peck-a hole-a hole-a
Where’s my can of Coca Cola?
What you say?
Where that be?
Argentine from sea to sea?
Go to work and get in bed.
Shake your feet and tap your head.
Cerebral flatulence I’m told
Another sign of getting old.
=0=
YOU'LL TAKE NO RANDOM PRISONERS HERE
Jo Liberty
Here I am, and nothing's well,
I'm sick of being caged inside this wooden cell
My throat's all dry; this life is a burden
I do what I like; so go tell the Warden
I don't choose this punishment
I blame it all on your government
Take me to the Chair-get the job done today
While you still can before I break away.
Check the detector-I haven't told the truth once,
Do what you choose to me: it won't make any difference
'Cause I'm a liar, an idiot, and a rebel in chains...
I'll wrap these metal links around your throat and I'll break free again.
I'm more trouble than I'm worth; and twice more when I start fighting;
Got a bitter poisonous streak in me with the impact of lightning-
I'm a little crazy and risky and I never learn...
I'm out for blood now and you could get burned.
I am the fire; you don't want to mess around with me
I'm not one to mind causing some severe injuries
Better chain and contain me and hope it'll do...
'Cause I'll retaliate like the flames as soon as I get loose!
=0=
VIGIL
AUSTYN NJOKU
Now so unable to slumber
for there is this hunger
grumbling in my bowel
i cling unto my towel
to entrap hot perspiration
seeping from my yawning pores
like mangy decadent mores
dredging my dear nation -
and i cannot but ponder
the wonder now an enigma
loud Ahuja speakers proliferating
like crushed cadavers putrefying
on our streets and motorways
while Council bureaucrats always
are pinching Allocation and tills -
this land festers with all ills !
=0=
I’ll be there
joey munkie
If you are hurting and needing a friend
I’ll be there
If you’re ever feeling like you want it all to end
don’t worry, I’ll be there.
Anywhere.
If you’re feeling rejected, ignored, and shunned
I’ll be there.
If you’re ever thinking that there’s no one
don’t think that, I’ll be there.
Anywhere.
If you’re ever being chased by dark thoughts in your head,
I’ll be there.
If you’re always dreading just going to bed,
don’t dread it, I’ll be there.
Anywhere.
I won’t care if you don’t know why,
I’ll be there.
Even if you just need to cry,
just cry, I’ll be there.
Anywhere.
Even if I’m all you got left,
I’ll be there.
I love you, and you know the rest,
so don’t worry, I’ll be there.
Everywhere.
=0=
“The Sand Beneath Their Feet”
By Cheryl Thompson
On Foreign soil they landed
Trespassers on sacred ground
Above their heads, warplanes drop bombs only a few feet away
How long in this place must we stay?
At their side, young warriors, brothers and sisters of courage,
Fighting far from home
In their eyes, there is the strength and determination
Of a free nation
In their hearts, there is the hope
Of bringing freedom to an oppressed people
The battleground is quite, for now
Tomorrow they push on, with the sand beneath their feet
Fighting for freedom beneath our feet
=0=
WHAT LEADS US
KWAKOU A. BUTCHER
New times draw new lines on the new paths
That we laid to define out lives.
Hasty choices made plague our everyday. Time too
fast for us to stop, minds and eyes too slow
for us to reflect and make up.
The cycle never ends.
Owned by us yet believed to be owed to us.
We constantly lust for more.
Eyes wide shut, seeing all that fuels our greed.
Yet blind to what our souls ultimately need.
A life long lust for which we bleed.
A long life lead by ignorance and greed.
=0=
Bigotry
paul
The last two men on Earth are in dispute.
One says the world is round
And has always been round
The other says
No, the world is flat
And will always be flat
The argument festers
Then at night, one man
Breaks into the other man’s house
And kills him
Stabs him in the throat
Drags his body outside for the birds
At sunrise, the last man on Earth is content
There is no more conflict
The banana trees are all his
And the world is indeed flat.
=0=
'Freedom' Rings?
Ken Welty
The 'American Dream' is Dead, my friends
When did this begin?
How did we get here?
Will it ever end?
We have lost our souls
No longer own our minds
So why don't we go
Get some 'Freedom' fries?
The feeling's that we have
Thought's that go on
That can't be
What America was built on?
I thought it stood
For a place to be free
Without a desire
Of crucifying Thee?
=0=
Pigeon flies on sill,
Glass shards shredding between toes,
Painful memories left.
Jacob Donato
=0=
A Forgiven Hurt
lisa canfield
Sometimes there is a place,
A wondrous and miraculous place;
Where one must stop along the road of truth
And forgive.
It is where silence has a meaning,
Where happiness prevails.
And all anger releases.
I stop. I forgive. I release all hurt.
Yes, I forgive.
With my face smiling to the blinding sun,
I open up my wings.
Wings that feather evenly and openly,
So that I may be lifted like Copperfield up over
The road of redemption,
To fly;
Fly over stones ridden to sit by rivers
That flow hesitantly, quivering to wash
Upon dirty shores ridden with soot and debris.
…
Sometimes there is a place,
Where worlds do not meet, rather collide,
To burn. Nothing is ever accomplished.
Rather, weathers like age; so crippling.
And so, I must with a spiritual trust;
Cradle my heart heavy in my hands.
And fly away from those who listened
With deafened ears.
I lift up. Higher, and higher yet.
I must live again.
I must be the person I once was,
and am, again.
So, I fly, until I see the light.
The light of a forgiven hurt.
=0=
I sit and wonder how this world can live the way it does.
There is smoking, drinking, drugs, and guns, and things that do us harm.
Of course when you're young you say you'll never do that, but you can't
predict the future, until it's too late.
I sit and think to myself, this world is all out of order, if God wanted us to
live like this, why didn't he tell us himself.
Our world will not be around forever, and neither will you or I, so why don't
we make our lives the better by not drinking before we drive.
We tell ourselves how horrible this world is yet do nothing to make it better.
Sure there's the naturalists or the people who clean up the parks, but what
about the garbage dump or the oil in the ocean?
I sit and wonder why is it our world is full of evil and hate, but then I see
what people we are, and regret I am one of those men.
Jessica Challis
=0=
Narara Spring
Tony Vanden Hoogen
Regeneration comes to the valley with the warmth of the sun when the
morning is early.
Awoken to the sound of native birds scurrying around in the bushes
looking for soft to build a nest.
Replacing leaves scarred by the winter previous trees cast a
silhouette over the glistening waters.
Water dragons dig in the warm sand to lay their eggs ever watchful to
the sky for a predator.
Around the rocks and weeds a slimy black eel ambers along in the cool
water looking for a meal.
Golden lily shows its white stamen to the bee surrounded by glistening
goblet from the morning dew.
Bobbing back and forth through the green foliage of the camphor laurel
tree a black and white butterfly.
Skinks scurry and frolic around on the rocks looking for a mate or
just a good place to soak in the warm sun.
Hurtling past on the road people in cars oblivious to the wanders of
nature happening all around them.
In search of a mate a long necked tortoise floats alongside a water
lily while it feeds on insects and slugs.
The breeze comes up the valley from the sea in the afternoon to cool
the inhabitants while they sleep.
Spring truly a wondrous happening around my home nestled in the Narara
Valley.
=0=
THE HOMELESS MAN.
BY LAUREN GARDINER
he sits by an old tattered box,
while children run by in gangs and flocks,
bitter tears run down his bony cheek,
any attempt to smile is feeble an week,
he thinks of the man he used to be,
honest, funny and trustworthy,
and then he thinks of his old boring wage,
he'd do anything for that now, a fresh start, a new page,
but to them, to you and of course to me,
he's just an old beggar not worth our money
=0=
As she journeyed the unknown highways
Into the darkness of her soul
She found longing desire
And the overpowering need to be loved
She found that what she desperately wanted
Was to find that one person who would always be there
Be there to protect her from others
Be there to calm her on stormy nights
Be there to care for her
But most of all,
Be there to save herself from the demons in her tormented soul
She wanted, no she needed, someone to love her for herself
She sought a soul-mate
She wanted a confidant
But in the end
All she wanted was a friend
And as she looked over at him sleeping next to her
She realized that she had found just that
And somewhere deep inside of her
The darkness lifted and she felt an inner calmness overcome her
Then for the first time in years, she cried tears of love and joy,
not of pain and sorrow
She fell asleep with her arms around him and a smile on her face
David Gerard Collins
=0=
ALONE
KIRAN SAKKAR SUDH
THE ONLY QUESTION IS
EXCEPTION
THE ONLY ANSWER IS
PRAYER
PEOPLE DOING PRAYER
ARE FOUND RARE
& EXPECT GOD
TO REACH THERE EXPECTATION
WHICH IS THE ONLY EXCEPTION
FOR THE ACCEPTATION
BUT ACCEPTATION IS EXPECTED
AS THERE ARE MERE IN
THE CROWD OF RARE
IF NOT ALONE AT LEAST
CAN DO IN PAIR,
DON'T BE SCARED AS YOU ARE
NOT BEING REARED
DON'T BE MUDDLE AS NO ONE IS
FORCING U TO STEP IN THE PUDDLE
OH1DULL HEAD
I AM TALKING ABOUT
SUCCESS BEHIND EVERY WORK
---CONCENTRATION
ALSO KNOWN AS MEDITATION
WHEN SITUATION IS MISERABLE
&MAKES YOU IN TROUBLE
THINK ABOUT GOD
WHICH YOU CAN EASILY
AFFORD
TO MEET GOD, THERE'S NO NEED TO
WALK ON THE ROAD
THERE'S THE FLIGHT OF THE SOUL
FROM THE CENTRE OF THE POLE
MILES IS THE DISTANCE
ALONE THERE WITHOUT ANY ASSISTANT
FOR
THIS,
THERE'S NO NEED OF
OF CHANGING YOUR LIFE STYLE
AS 'T HAS BEEN SAID
THERE'S NO NEED OF
CONVERSION
WHEN YOU BELIEVE IN
INVERSION!!!!
=0=
"All My Spare Time"
Mindy Burnett
I hope you have a great time
As you sit there and drink wine and beer
you don't know
But while you were gone
I was home trying to find out
How to end my life
Sure I've got lots of Friends
And my looks are just fine
But when you don't have a father
But not because he's dead
But he refuses to except you
And your boyfriend isn't sure how long he wants to be with you
Then in your spare time
All you can think about is how to shorten the time
That the misery ruin your life.
=0=
POETRY'S SOLACE.
RAMANATHAN
A poetry is to you,
To enjoy and love .
To elevate your,
Entire being to soar,
In unison of -
Boundless joy
To sooth you,
When you cry-
Give all sublime
To lift supreme!
=0=
Dear friend,
Things are not always as bad as they seem!
If you have a nose, you can smell the sweet fragrances of the
garden, the smell of someone cooking a midday roast or having a
barbeque.
If you have ears, you can hear the singing of the birds, the wind
whistling and rustling the leaves on the trees, hear the voices of
the children playing in the park.
If you have eyes, you can see the wonders of nature, the beautiful
flowers, trees, birds and the smile of a child, or the love in the
eyes of your family and friends.
If you have skin, you can feel the cool breeze, the warm sun
caressing your body, refreshing water from a running stream to cool
you when you are hot.
If you have a mouth, you can savor the taste of fresh fruit,
vegetables, and the meal cooked for you by the ones who love you,
and sing a sweet love song.
If you have a brain, you can remember all the beauty and love that
has surrounded you in your past. You can forget the hurt and sorrow,
and wish for a better future.
If you have but one of these things, life is worth living, go out
today and enjoy the things you have.
Love Tony
Joan
God when are you coming
I've been waiting for so long
God are you listening, or did I do something wrong
God why do you hate me, because of bad things that I have done
I know there are lots of children and that I am only one.
But if you come and take me, anything I will do
If only you will, make this one wish for me come true.
I want to stay with you in heaven
Be an angel in your sky
I want feathers or some wings
And I promise not to ever cry
I will make you very proud
The best angel I will be
I will be good and not cause no trouble
If you will just come for me.
I'm sorry that I want to go
But I know that you are love
My brother says where you live, is beautiful,
Not in the clouds but high above
God I hope you like my poem
And that from there, that you can read
I'll follow you most anywhere
In you I do believe
So god when are you coming
What do I have to do?
I don't know how to do it
So I sit and wait for you.
I thought that I would
Jump out
Just like a bird that can fly
But I just cant seem to do it
Cause that would hurt ,
And what if I don't die?
I think I will wait for you at least another day
And hope its my turn soon
To come and take me away.
=0=
TOMORROW & YESTERDAY
ishita paul
There are two days in every week
about which we should not worry,
two days which should be kept free
from fear and apprehension.
One of these days is Yesterday
with all its mistakes and cares,
its faults and blunders,
its aches and pains.
Yesterday has passed forever
beyond our control.
All the money in the world
cannot bring back Yesterday
We cannot undo a single act
we performed;
We cannot erase a single word
we said.
Yesterday is gone forever.
The other day we should not
worry about is Tomorrow
with all its possible adversities,
its burdens, its large promise,
and its poor performance;
Tomorrow is also beyond
our immediate control.
Tomorrow's sun will rise,
either in splendor or
behind a mask of clouds,
but it will rise.
Until it does,
we have no stake in Tomorrow,
for it is yet to be born.
This leaves only one day,
Any person can fight the battle
of just one day.
It is when you and I add the burdens
of those two awful eternities
Yesterday and Tomorrow
that we break down.
It is not the experience of Today
that drives a person mad,
it is the remorse or bitterness
of something which happened Yesterday
and the dread of what Tomorrow may bring.
Let us, therefore, live but one day at a time.
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FOREMAN STAN
Alan Perry
little, lynx-eyed, time-and-motion man
suddenly there, materializing out of
carbon monoxide
to catch you unaware
lighting up or lending ear
to someone's smutty story
pompous, pip-squeak of a bloke
who claimed to be a Union Man
but never clocked
our corporate V signs
as he disappeared round corners
or through acid smoke
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Worm holes
ernest
Meredith sits
on a deck chair
peering out the
blue pavilion skies
into the universe.
In the old days
he traveled there
often in equations
in time machines,
always returned
home in the evening,
for Martha,
rhubarb pie and tea.
These days he now
spends
more and more in
motionless solitude
out here among
old astronomers
staying long-gone for
days at a time.
Where is he to go?
he has sucked down the
universe
into a black hole
from leveled consciousness
through all his senses
even time itself and
a gillion fragments
of insignificant occurrences,
faces times, places,
names eaten by a lifetime
and stored in soft buffers
which has now past to the
other
end of the universe
- and nothing.
Senility happens, I know.
Consciousness is a wormhole.
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The Lighthouse and the Sailboat on the Sea
Bethel Consumo
Alone atop a lonely lighthouse,
Facing the wide and open sea,
Alone where crags kiss the billows
Alone I wait , I wait for thee.
Once you have anchored in this lighthouse
But some gale blew your sailboat away,
And brought you to some unknown harbor
And enticed you to forever stay.
But the storm came and the tide rose
your anchor no longer embraced the shore
In faith you tried again the harbor
But the wind -blown lighthouse shined no more.
The storm passed, The lighthouse stood again
Shedding light to a sailboat on the sea.
That it may find it pathway back.
Battered and torn the sails may be.
Tonight the darkness wraps the hillsides
The lighthouse burn with an extra glow.
hoping, deadly wishing may reach
The tattered, wind-swept sailboat and you.
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IF
stephanie westra
If rain are tears
and rainbows are smiles
are memories paper work stored into files?
If you trust someone
why do they lie?
Hurting you enough to make you cry
If labels are as great as made to be
how come nothings ever exactly how you see?
If love is the biggest gift received
then how come they're always the ones getting deceived?
Can you have joy with out the sorrow?
Can you be leant something without having to borrow?
Behind all truth will you find a lie?
Why can ones greatest joy make one most vulnerable to cry?
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I Know
BY KATIE TRAVALINE,
In my heart, I know what's right
I know tomorrow can't come without tonight
I know my limits, I know the way I feel,
I know what's fake, and know what's real
I know a friend, apart from a foe
I know that some things stay, and some things go
But some people don't, and I'm willing to teach,
Even if it takes the longest speech
Encore I June, 2003
Encore II June, 2003
Encore III June, 2003
Poems copyright ©
designated authors 2003.
Page Copyright © AHApoetry.com 2003.
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