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Rhapsody In Purple

'Rhapsody in Blue'
cascaded from the stereo speakers
swamped and swooning with sound.

'Cocktail dahling? ' you enquired teasingly
bending to kiss me.

I held on to your every word with baited breath.

I was ecstatically elated.

You divested yourself
of your outside attire
a flame red dress that had seemed on fire
(of which...I had...greatly admired)

but now lay extinguished on the kitchen floor

so that I could see
you wore

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poem by Dónall Dempsey
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Shaving cream

Shaving Cream

On the day that yet another car bomb exploded
in Baghdad, I forgot to buy shaving cream and
had to go back to the shop, there is weariness
about bad news from Iraq. I also forgot to buy
a litre of milk and a goat cheese.

Four thousand US troops killed, which, after
five years of war, as an amazing small number;
but then, this is a war where civilians get to do
the dying.Six hundred thousand or near a million
dead, no one knows or cares, but it might end up
as being as great a crime as the holocaust:

Was it five or six million Jews who perished?
This is a number that concerns deniers greatly,
who are of the opinion that only about 2oo Jews
died, regrettably of typhus, on a train journey
between Poland and Russia.

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poem by Jan Oskar Hansen
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The Nurturing Seed

Taking life and love for granted,
It's simply wrong and greatly slanted,
For there is beauty all around,
Look carefully and you'll see what you've found.

As Spring turns to Summer,
The green of the meadows burst,
Giving hope to every comer,
As the lost ones are nursed

By those who have found it,
Whatever it may be, that quells the need,
To cry, to die, to move on or to quit,
As summer vanishes, they plant a seed.

Autumn continues, the seed still young,
Little do you know, it will soon be yours,
From trees, leaves fall from where they hung,
Your heart opens as do the doors

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poem by Daniel Sims
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There Is A Legend Told

Once upon a time in a land of wishes,
Wishes that took ages to manifest,
Yet certainly coming true,
Supremacy, an empire emerged,
The King and Queen did stand,
So noble and highly honoured,
So marubic in her seat of honour,
Her highness viewed by the maltitude,
His majesty greatly honoured beyond,
Yes beyond the beyond of the beyond,
Such was the kingdom,
Such was their love like a kingdom

The vow to guard, and also to guide,
To distinguish a potatoe from an egg,
To separate a kiss from sex,
For love was the kingdom,
And sex became war unto them,
The priceless bravery of a kingdom,
To never seek out war,

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poem by Gaylord Munemo
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Crazy Nights

You just don't relies how greatly I do care
Or maybe you do
I want to tell you things I shouldn't feel or that's what they say
I can bight my tongue
And hold back

The things we both feel
I want to tell you there is someone out there that really does care
I will just tell you that you are the man that makes me
A lost of words
‘Cause I know words will never be enough to give to you
You are the person that I look forward to each day,
The one that makes my day smile again even though my tears
Just to hear your voice makes my worries melt away
Your not just a man in first or second your the man.
The man of my waves and my fire

Will you be the one man to finally tame the restless storm?
Shall I kiss all my crazy immature nights’ goodbye?
Do I have to grow up drastically again?

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poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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Love, Now, Is Blue

Love, it would by all appearances be,
Is for now ever blue,
Never quite fully captured by
Me, nor by you.
- To look far into the deep blue sky
Is to long to consider so why,
Why is the purest of beauty and love
Just beyond the reach
Of mere mortal man,
And why do we thus desire so
Yet fully fail to understand?
From whence comes this high passion
And unto where does it all go,
Why does it mingle with lowly man
And what devine mystery does it intend to show?
... oh, how I greatly long to know.
'Tis it a possibility that ever could be,
Or over my ignorance
Shall it ever and ever evade what is me?
- Answers to questions such as these

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poem by Smoky Hoss
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My Literary Friend

Once I wrote a little poem which I thought was very fine,
And I showed the printer’s copy to a critic friend of mine,
First he praised the thing a little, then he found a little fault;
‘The ideas are good,’ he muttered, ‘but the rhythm seems to halt.’

So I straighten’d up the rhythm where he marked it with his pen,
And I copied it and showed it to my clever friend again.
‘You’ve improved the metre greatly, but the rhymes are bad,’ he said,
As he read it slowly, scratching surplus wisdom from his head.

So I worked as he suggested (I believe in taking time),
And I burnt the ‘midnight taper’ while I straightened up the rhyme.
‘It is better now,’ he muttered, ‘you go on and you’ll succeed,
‘It has got a ring about it—the ideas are what you need.’

So I worked for hours upon it (I go on when I commence),
And I kept in view the rhythm and the jingle and the sense,
And I copied it and took it to my solemn friend once more—
It reminded him of something he had somewhere read before.

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poem by Henry Lawson
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Stay The Course...

Letter to a friend...

Nancy,

You shared;

'The things that are going on in the world...mostly man made'

Yes...as a result of poor choices of greed, exploitation and power over one another.

I believe that Mother Earth/Gaia too is alive and conscious. When she has taken enough abuse, she shakes us fleas off her back or drowns us. Looks like she is about to do just that.

'The Great Spirit that moves in all things' Creates and Loves, letting us grow through our good or bad choices, as well as experiences. This may take half an eternity, as time has no meaning except to man. Our sojourn here on Gaia is but a blink in Creator's Eye.

Nancy as awakening beings we must do all we can to love, help one another and be better stewards wherever we may live. This in and of itself will transform this planet, as it was Created to be.

The few evil controllers are greatly outnumbered by those awakening. Their antics and mischief ALWAYS fail. You have but to look at recorded history to see that every great/corrupt civilization has eventually self-destructed. As the World bully USA is presently going through self destruction.

You and I are here to serve as witness and to help usher in peace and harmony...stay the course and don't give up!

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poem by Ray Lucero
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Arbor Amoris

I have a tree, a graft of Love,
That in my heart has taken root;
Sad are the buds and blooms thereof,
And bitter sorrow is its fruit;
Yet, since it was a tender shoot,
So greatly hath its shadow spread,
That underneath all joy is dead,
And all my pleasant days are flown,
Nor can I slay it, nor instead
Plant any tree, save this alone.

Ah, yet, for long and long enough
My tears were rain about its root,
And though the fruit be harsh thereof,
I scarcely looked for better fruit
Than this, that carefully I put
In garner, for the bitter bread
Whereon my weary life is fed:
Ah, better were the soil unsown
That bears such growths; but Love instead

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poem by François Villon
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Taking Dad to a Game

The Polo Grounds, when the Field’s first seen
are a most magical shade of green.
Hand in hand, me and my Dad
head for our seats in the right field stands.

It’s the Cincinnati Reds in town
to play the New York Mets.
There’s a double header scheduled,
How much better could it get?

Cincinnati took the first game
by a score of three to nil.
My hot dog was delicious
Dad had a beer to swill.

The nightcap was a wild affair
The Mets won thirteen- twelve.
You could look it up, as Casey said,
if you should care to delve.

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poem by John F. McCullagh
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