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It is Finished

Rococo ideas
The great stretch
Something very wrong
Very empty
She gathers stones of light
Martin Heidegger is dead
Aged colloquial theology
Explanations as silly as silly
Death creeps like a wounded bear
Nothingness
Ex nihilo
I am glad all of that is over
The light has shined
Sleep and touch meaning
Everything is eternal
It is finished

poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Patrick

Back then, when life was green among the curly ferns
And it was happy as the height of crystal night
My brother was my younger treasure
And we would daily play
by climbing trees and building forts with skinly knees
We were milky soft
Our eyes, they shined
And there was no such thing as watching time

Written by Sara Fielder © 2012

poem by Sara Fielder
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The Stars Of Yesteryear

THE STARS OF YESTERYEAR

The sadness of Life
Its Beauty-
How much has gone
How many are gone
How they shined in their youth
How they were so alive
How they so loved to live
And wanted to live.

So many are gone
The world is sadder without them
They gave us so much
And we are sadder
Knowing what they were once
And what we too
No longer are.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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God's Country

God’s country is a place between,
The two great seas.
God’s country is a forest,
Of evergreens and pines.
God’s country is a homeland,
Not tarnished by incredulity,
But shined by hospitality,
God’s country is a hunting ground,
And a young boy’s home.
God’s country is a masterpiece,
Of smelted man and nature,
And of pride, love, and sacrifice.

poem by Christian Allen
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So scenic than the moon

Journey! journey! ! Journey! ! ! In my dream of infinity... Journey in the sky... Yes i saw the shivering moon. So scenic and adoring. So glamorous... And warmth it shined on me. But oh! It transmogriffied and moon i see no more but a queen. So scenic than the moon. Oh! Now i know your creator... That's why your beauty shines awesomely brighter than the moon.

poem by Jude Thadeus
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There Is A Special Happiness/In Recovery From Sickness

There is a special happiness
In recovery from sickness-
One feels born again-
It is a new world filled with hope -
All the other problems are for a moment forgotten
And one knows one can do any thing one needs and wants to-

All is hope and happiness and gratitude-
The light has never quite shined like this before -
Even for an old man the world is beginning again.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Future is a Light

The future is a light
A moon
But there is a storm
And black clouds obstruct my view

The future is a light
A lamp
But the shade is dark
And the bulb is cracked

The future is a light
A candle
But the wind heaves
And the wick is short

The future is a light
A star
But it has shined too long
And must die soon

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Person
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Searching For Autumn

It 's early Novemeber
a cool brisk Autumn day
and i pause at a buliding
thats been left all astray
as i look out the window
it seems hard to see
the splender and beauty
of memories still fresh in me.
the colors have faded
that once shined so bright
Miss. Autumn has left us
(seems she left over night) ..
now colors of dull green
and brown mixed with grey
are saying that Autumn
has gone on her way...

poem by Connetta Jean
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Elbow Benders

All walks of life, enter the arena
Sitting anonymously
For hours on end
Timeless
As pure grain in an hour glass
Overflow
Mindless thoughts of the disease
Alcohol obsessed
Bedeviled, satan posessed
Until one day a ray of light
Shined upon our soul
Climbing desperately
Detoxed
Out of the deep, dark, dreary hole
Into treatment
Some would grasp
One day at a time
most failed
Misery lives on
Elbows still bend

[...] Read more

poem by Matt Mondschein
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My Rules

If you want to marry me, here's what you'll have to do:
You must learn how to make a perfect chicken-dumpling stew.
And you must sew my holey socks,
And soothe my troubled mind,
And develop the knack for scratching my back,
And keep my shoes spotlessly shined.
And while I rest you must rake up the leaves,
And when it is hailing and snowing
You must shovel the walk... and be still when I talk,
And -- hey -- where are you going?

poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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