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A Winning Philosophy

when life handed me
sour lemons
I made lemonade

when life handed me
sour grapes
I made rich red wine

when life was a dangerous
roller coaster
I refused to get on for the ride

when life offered
a shit sandwich
I refused to eat it

did not the great
philosophers

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poem by Terence George Craddock
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Mango

in my youth
i did not wait for ripe mangoes
what we experience
is that
they are better eaten raw
sour
makes our tongues twist
and want for more
makes our eyes limp
and want for more
makes our tongues salivate
wanting for more

more of raw life, green hopes,
powerful stains that
mark our puberty pangs
sour memories that make us
want life more
garnished with salt and soy
and shrimp

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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ode to Mother Nature

I pray to thee mother nature,
Thine beauty none can match,
Sweet or sour thy feature,
Life or death thee hatch.

Sweet is thy misery,
Sour is thy love,
I ought to be thy slave,
And thine shall guide me from above.

The seasons, some harsh some mellow,
In which some sing and some play bass cello,
Thou bring me happiness,
As thou ar't all beautiful.

An ode I summon to thine stranger,
An ode I summon to thee,
Inside the bearer thy beauty lie,
It's all the magic inside ones eye.

poem by Aditya Mudbhary
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Bragging Modesty

Why boast modesty? Wasn't handpicked
Bragging seems silly, when was obligation strict.
Posing wise on patterns borrowed by others
Followed a code & custom, or advise by mothers.
Justifying tartness, when Grapes felt sour
Choice will be different, when given some power.
Sour now bad and 'the grapes weren't mine'
Go with flock, is their new punch line.
Decency is out; it's Vanity that's in
Advance WE are, hold up the chin.
(Dear) Modesty is a virtue but its flaunting isn't smart
Simple or Not, be honest with all heart.

poem by Samima Shah
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Starry Eyed Baby

She's my starry eyed baby girl,
She hypnotizes,

mesmerizes,

dramatizes

all her pray,

The tree we used to lay beneath,
kiss teeth stained red
From a sour bottled baby girl
with eyes the size of baby worlds.

As I lay beneath our kissing tree,
I wonder when it all fell apart,
How my baby girl when from starry eyed
Princess to glarring eyed devil girl.

Does she ever wonder what might have been

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poem by ZoeLeigh Vaughan
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Evening Music

Here comes the moment of the shimmering hour
When praise like incense trembles from each leaf.
The evening air is redolent with grief
And waltzes gush with melancholic power.

When praise like incense trembles from each leaf,
Only the notes of violins are sour
And waltzes gush with melancholic power;
The sky is vast with beauty and with grief.

Only the notes of violins are sour;
Each heart avoids its pit of unbelief.
The sky is vast with beauty and with grief;
The sun's blood hazes in a chilly shower.

Each heart avoids its pit of unbelief,
Gathering its flecks of light into a bower;
The sun's blood hazes in a chilly shower -
Only your shining image brings relief!

poem by Martin TURNER
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In The Harbour: The Wine Of Jurançon. (From The French Of Charles Coran)

Little sweet wine of Jurançon,
You are dear to my memory still!
With mine host and his merry song,
Under the rose-tree I drank my fill.

Twenty years after, passing that way,
Under the trellis I found again
Mine host, still sitting there au frais,
And singing still the same refrain.

The Jurançon, so fresh and bold,
Treats me as one it used to know;
Souvenirs of the days of old
Already from the bottle flow,

With glass in hand our glances met;
We pledge, we drink. How sour it is
Never Argenteuil piquette
Was to my palate sour as this!

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poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Contemporary Poetry (2)

contemporary poetry
is nice to read since they are
not cliches, very much unlike
shakespeare or
mary oliver

i 've seen one and read it
over and over again
it feels like
trickling rain from
my forehead to my
spine

like this:

rain
rain
go
away
come

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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Love and Hope

In the frosty of an ancient first light
That lazily lingers on;
Love, will give you hopes

In the middle of an intense storm
That trees you tattered and worn;
Love, will give you hopes

Even while your tears fall like rain
And your sour soul screams aloud
And you believe there's not anything missing to gain
As you walk lost in a crowd…

Love, will give you hopes.

When your heart begins to break
And you think, "No more can I take, "
Love, will give you hopes..

When need outweighs your means

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poem by Nikhil Chandwani
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A Swinburnian Interlude

Short space shall be hereafter
Ere April brings the hour
Of weeping and of laughter,
Of sunshine and of shower,
Of groaning and of gladness,
Of singing and of sadness,
Of melody and madness,
Of all sweet things and sour.

Sweet to the blithe bucolic
Who knows nor cribs nor crams,
Who sees the frisky frolic
Of lanky little lambs;
But sour beyond expression
To one in deep depression
Who sees the closing session
And imminent exams.

He cannot hear the singing
Of birds upon the bents,

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poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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