by James Marshall Goff |
Categories:
life
My Inventory:
flashlights
high-performance yo-yo
poetry books
fishing poles
ice-fishing hut
regret
pocket knife
sharpening stones
laughter
boomerangs
passwords
life's artifacts
Grandpa's Fishing Hat
hope and joy
Guardian Angel
wooden snow-sleds
more poetry books
olde-tyme-radios
compassion
camping gear
Babar, the Stuffed-Elephant
Angel-in-a-basket
imagination
McCoy Cookie Jars
nature field-guides
forgiveness
Soup-friends
ties I don't wear
family heirloom recipes
suits I try not to wear
treasured photographs
170 poems
antique lamps
my Children's love
......and You
my Savior
....... Jesus Christ
by Paul Callus |
Categories:
travel,
I read with greed John Master's books,
to Indian culture introduced.
I grew to love a distant land;
by her allure I was seduced.
To Indian culture introduced,
I felt the urge to go and see
the striking beauty of her face,
the charms bestowed abundantly.
I grew to love a distant land
where the traditions are held high,
religion, races, culture, tongues
are deep-ingrained - will never die.
By her allure I was seduced,
this vibrant country in the east.
I plan to take a closer look
and let my eyes in wonder feast.
----------------------------------
Contest: Shall We Retourne
Sponsor: Debbie Guzzi
by James Peranteau |
Categories:
.
Like bolts of lightning I’ve
felt the words from my fingers
come forth
My heart
my brain
sparking thoughts
Out of them I dust the books of
love with words
I fantasize with paper
and pen
I cross fiords and skies
I cry out loud from the
high rocks of the sea
the bolts riddle
they rhyme the words
and charm the hearts
suspiciously
they uncover my thoughts
by Darlene De Beaulieu |
Categories:
books, poems, poetry, words, writing,
Before this virus came around
On Saturday's I'd go to the mall
One of the places I like to go first
Would be the bookstore to enter
I would look for poet's poetry books
There are lots of books to choose from
As I walk through the aisles-
I noticed someone sitting at a table
She had piles of books stacked high
So i chose a chose a book and read
It was titled Love-I bought it
The author and I chatted
Then she signed her book
Her name is Beleza Angel
The title was Pieces of Me
Will be a book i will always keep
This will be a special book
I met a poetess she wrote poems
She published her poems
Beleza Angel a book keepsake
She is on instagram & Facebook
by Michelle Faulkner |
Categories:
appreciation, books, community, together,
Lingering among the stacks
Interval of serenity, a luxury to
Borrow a world, then bring it back
Riches of printed page, once few
Are carried throughout the community
Requiring only a card to belong
Young and old both given opportunity
Lending literacy to growing minds, strong
Out of many streets, they share the room
Vaulted ideas have a place to bloom
Encyclopedias of adventures to unpack!
1/22/19
by Joshua Aguire |
Categories:
girlfriend-boyfriend, introspection, life, love,
Why stay in Oz, girl
Wishing for changes?
Turning your mirrors to books
So you can rewrite the pages
You’ve got a beautiful heart and mind, girl
Why look at the flaws?
I can’t even see the tin
Or the rust or the straw
I think your worst side is your best side, girl
Don’t throw all those little things away
I don’t want your 'out of date' style
Or your blemishes to change
So open your eyes, girl
And look in the mirror
You’re perfect to me
Couldn’t get any better
by Andrea Dietrich |
Categories:
friend,
I find her most congenial, and we
have everything in common; it’s a fact!
With all of her opinions I agree.
Our shelves with books and nic-nacs all are stacked.
To exercise at Vasa gym she goes.
I also love that place, and all the time
she’s my companion at the movie shows!
We love to write and love to make a rhyme,
and we are also glad to be a girl
and wear cute clothes and use accessories.
When on the dance floor, how we love to twirl!
My closest friend is such a cinch to please.
If you’ve met “me,” you’ve met my friend. No lie.
She also calls herself “myself” and “I.”
Dec. 13, 2019 for Regina Riddle's Best Friend Sonnet Contest
by May Fenn |
Categories:
bereavement, death, funeral, loss, obituary, sorrow,
Death is not the end,
For love goes on
And you will find the evidence
Long after I have gone.
The flowers that we planted
Will blossom without end,
You’ll find me in their beauty
As to their needs you tend.
The books we read together,
The laughter in the pages,
Will continue to give pleasure
To you throughout the ages.
So do not mourn my passing
You are not left alone,
You’ll always find me waiting
In the places we have known.
The bond that grew between us
Will not abate with time,
It will go on for always,
I’m yours and you are mine.
by Cona Adams |
Categories:
community, friendship, people, writing,
(A Blank Verse Sonnet)
In June, we traveled south to Memphis town,
a public poets' fete with Southern flair.
The mid-south heart unfolded nationwide,
an open cloak of warmth spread far afield
in concert with the sound and sense of rhyme.
A graciousness so coupled with its pride
to sharpen all who came in studied hope
and reasoned well effect, to prove result.
Yet seasoned poets put their pens aside;
the books they found, devoured with eyes and minds
already voiced the thoughts mankind repeats,
our ageless chants for hearts in love or pain.
The weather's pull to southern ports advanced
the lure of southern charm from heart to heart.
by D.W. Rodgers |
Categories:
lost love,
I get pretty picture postcards
from faraway places,
not many but over time
they accumulate
on walls, fridges
and marking pages in books.
Mostly from old girlfriends
writing to prove
they are still alive.
"Amazing scenery, wonderful people,
haven't had a decent cup of coffee since Montreal,
watch out for the water in ice cubes.
Wish you were here (Not!)
all my love xxxx"
Still on a dull grey morning,
a message from Mexico, Italy,
Vietnam or New Zealand
is at least intriguing.
Me, I never send postcards
as I never go anywhere
but I get pretty picture postcards
from faraway long ago bitches
every now and then.
by Craig Cornish |
Categories:
books,
(English Sonnet Rhyme in Iambic Tetrameter)
What tomes in lonely corners dwell
where undisturbed and rimmed with dust,
forgotten tales that once were held
and stained with tears and love and lust -
now sit untouched like aging queens;
more interest in apparent heirs
like Kindle tablets - pageless screens,
dull bootless script where no one shares.
So empty when a page is turned,
no weight of paper in its place
and when it's done no conference yearned -
there is no book ... just empty space.
The halls where all the books are kept
will haunt until their dust is swept.
by Dah Dahlusion |
Categories:
absence, age, dark, lonely, loss, love, spiritual,
Between happiness and sadness
—silence; an angel prays:
I kiss the loneliness of old people,
their temples like handfuls of winter;
their hearts
are used baggage,
waiting;
memories speak to them,
they smile and
tell me stories from their youth
—sadness falls;
silence passes unspoken
—they remember the dead.
I kiss the loneliness from their temples
and sadness lifts from their mouths.
———————————————————————
From my first book: 'In Forbidden Language'
©dah / Stillpoint Books 2010
all rights reserved
Search Amazon Books: "in forbidden language/dah"
by Edwin Alluso |
Categories:
child,
Our Little Boy
Our boy named Dione Henry
Comes from our fathers name
He’s so cheerful and friendly
But sometimes he’s naughty
He loves to play and full of energy
Even his stomach is empty
At the end he is so hungry
He dream of becoming a pilot
Reading his books he always forgot
But playing games he did not
I’ve thought to tied him with a knot
So he could stay in my front
And guide him in his right plot
To show his wisdom that he got
I know that he is our little boy
Who loves to play with his toy
Sooner you’ll become a man
Enjoy your time and have fun
I will always there to guide you
To reach your dreams I'll support you
I’ll be there for you because I love you
by Annabelle Jane |
Categories:
life, love,
Books half opened
Lines half written
A bridge half built is halfway there.
Bones half broken
Lives half hidden
A heart in half has half to share.
by Shani Fassbender |
Categories:
lost love
I’m lost everyday when I wake, at the emptiness lying next to me
When I read the morning paper, the news is not to share
My coffee is never waiting for me anymore, neither is your kiss
Solitary walks are shortened, without companionship
The meals do not taste the same, the flavor you added is missing
I fall asleep watching movies, and books hold no interest
Some of the light has vanished from the day
As more of the darkness is invading my nights
While I’m sleeping, in my dreams you tease
I dread all the tomorrows, where you will not be
by Brian Strand |
Categories:
places
The
house was full
of yesterdays-
books
that filled
wet Wednesdays
cross-stitch
hours upon the wall
eclectic
art,glass,pottery
collected,moments
sentiments
priceless,unique
irreplaceable-
a smell of love
percolated
into offspring
memories
drifting
to timeless
tomorrows
by Hadia Faisal |
Categories:
1st grade, angel, anxiety, beauty, books, break up, night,
Time for this girl to cuddle up bed..
But of course after two, I sleep like dead.
I try hard to get my beauty sleep..
but number of thoughts at a time creeps.
Sometimes left and sometimes right...
Then come into mind, my bro’s fight.
Miss those night of romantic chat..
Which slowly turn into a verbal spat!
Some memories brings tears in my eyes..
Yup, the eyes which makes you hypnotise!
Tell all thoughts to get a grip..
again, cross my mind, that school trip.
Miss those love which knew no bound..
yeah, the same, that gave me wound!
This way and that, I frown and see
So, there is no one left but me..!!
by Abdul Malik |
Categories:
inspirational,
All smiles
Go miles,
All cries
soon dies,
Face fears
shun tears,
All hate
can wait,
As such,
LOVE much,
Laugh off
a scoff;
Be kind
Save Wild,
Be wise
Shun vice,
Good deed
Godspeed,
Find nooks
Read books,
All's swell
ends well!.
~A Brian Strand July 24 contest - Footle.
"Your Footle poem" contest by Judy Konos
by DM Babbit |
Categories:
books, emotions, poetry, writing,
Embrace the line
it flows straight yet narrow
guiding the eye and the hand along its edge.
Behind lies the blanks waiting
hoping for some beatific message
to be filled in along the emptiness.
Focus and see the ink
flowing from the pen
in a cursive calligraphic display.
Words and phrases wrapped around a vision
that waltz dances on the page
then springing forth in calypso imagery.
Hears it, feel it, see it give birth
in poetic prose and rhythms felt
deep in the mind, heart and soul.
Embrace the line
it draws attention
and unexpectedly,
poetry is born
right there
with love, inspiration and deep emotion
revealed along the lines.
by Audrey Haick |
Categories:
faith, inspirational, introspection, lifelove,
Alive today, in this time, undeserving, yet, I am blessed…
By His divine mercy
By His eternal love
With a resolute faith
With a loving family
With special friends – a few
With hands yearning to heal
With a gift of verse -sometimes
With a gift of stitching - therapeutic
With a spirit for sharing
With a penchant for nature – no reptiles
With a special love for roses
With a beautiful smile that welcomes
With great fondness for the sea shore
With an incredible love for books and music
With a heart that loves unconditionally
With eyes that still see some good
For all these things-everything and
More!
*Note: For Dane-Ann's "Count Your Blessings" Contest
by Trina Hamel |
Categories:
anniversary, beauty, books, boyfriend, butterfly, caregiving, child,
When I look at him I don't see a love story you'd
Read in a book or even see on the movie screen
I do see someone that is meant for only me
Someone who doesn't judge or expect anything
but takes everyday as a gift and treasures
It with all my flaws and insecurities and still stands
By me
I see an angle heaven sent because even god knew
He would be
A miracle in my eyes not a love story by any means
But a story written for me and him to read
by Daver Austin |
Categories:
animals, love
Animals teach us to love
They excel at all the simple things
Eating
Sleeping
Reproducing
but
They are no good at complex things
Making money
Reading books
Painting great art
Playing the violin
Making out income tax returns
Addition
Subtraction
Multiplication
Division
Building machines of war
When we ask animals to do any of these complex things
They look at us with such curious eyes
Do nothing
We value them for their unobtrusive simple ways
Feed them
Give them a place to sleep (often on our own bed)
Pet them
Pet them
PET THEM!
If this aint love I'm a rooster's comb and cackle!
by Catherine Deslippe |
Categories:
caregiving, child, confusion, future, language, love, parents,
Out of the mouths of babes isn’t like it was before.
What they here is worse, than they speak poor.
Words that a young one should never hear.
Innocence than fear.
So please choose your words as kind as can be.
Please don’t hurt the babes, there as sweet as you can see.
Let them grow, learning there is joy all around.
Sweet words of love is an awesome sound.
They are only little for a short time.
Read them story books of rhyme.
Play games, go for a walk.
Listen to them as they talk.
So young, so innocent and when school starts.
Show them confidence with kind hearts.
Let them know how proud you are.
Using words of kindness can help them go far.
by Patricia Langston-Moran |
Categories:
lost loveme, love, me,
GIVE ME TIME
I have tears to be shed...
Books to be read...
Words to be said...
I love you.
I have a life to live...
and love to give...
I miss you.
I have memories to leave...
Moments to grieve...
And time to believe...
That you once loved me.
I have a horizon to climb...
Only moments of time...
to learn to love - me
Wait for me to do this
Don't leave me yet,
If you care.
by Khadidja Megaache |
Categories:
death, grief, pain, poets, remember, solitude, sorrow,
When I lay in the mortuary,
Don’t cry, smile and appreciate my journey.
Throughout life, at times, I lived wary.
I carried hope, love and even the burdening worry.
When I lay in the mortuary,
Before I’m buried and forgotten in a cemetery,
About my death don’t ask questions,
Don’t whisper in my stiff, blue ears confessions.
Few would come to my funeral,
Fewer would weep.
Few would care,
Fewer would lose sleep.
When I lay in the mortuary,
Burn my drafts and books,
My life was dull and ordinary.