BARDS

From the trouble of the world I turn to Bards,

Away from broken dreams of shattered shards,

Those scribes whom cosset my weary old soul,

It´s to them I go, to make me once again whole.

I seek rhymed succour, in their soft imbibed words,

I sip from their chalices & fly high with their birds,

I lay prone sweating, on their beds of vowed love,

When I am broken, with verse, they lift me above.

When battered & tattered, by broken promise & rain,

When stamped on & slapped, with words of cruel pain,

And when my life is unbearable & so intolerably hard,

I turn in my yearning, to my only friend, true & loyal Bard.

POETRY BY - SUE LOBO ©:

I SAW HIM:

I saw him one Spring, sitting alone on the street,

A lonesome stranger, I was never destined to meet,

I saw him again in Summer, at the very same place,

With history in his eyes, & the past upon his old face,

I saw him in Autumn, in same place, & also same time,

Huddled against winds, etched in street’s greying grime,

I saw him the last time in Winter, lost in a flurry of snow,

Merely mirage of a man I saw, yet never destined to know.

POETRY BY - SUE LOBO ©

THORNS

Was it some hidden desire, disease or sin? The Bible does not 

say,

But there was a "thorn in his flesh" that bothered Paul, so he’d 

pray.

God would not remove this, despite being all powerful and 

omniscient,

And, knowing a servant's weakness, said only, His grace was 

sufficient.

No one knows of the thorn in Paul's flesh, only why it was left 

neglected.

It was to show God's strength, which through a weakness was 

perfected.

Now, Paul had prayed three times about this thorn, he had dealt 

with it that long,

Though it was a weakness, he wasn't condemned for it, God’s 

grace being strong,

Knowing God would not let this weakness separate them 

must've been a relief.

That God doesn't condemn a believer's weaknesses, if in such a 

grace is belief.

Maybe, just maybe, Christians should think twice before holding 

others with scorn.

God's grace might be sufficient for them too, if a weakness to 

their flesh be a thorn.

So, before frightening another believer with any notions of 

hell's fires to burn,

Maybe we should remember that the merciful are blessed 

with mercy in return!

-Philip Kent Church

The Show

Alexander. "Life is the farce carried out by everyone." .....Arthur Rimbaud. (3/8/21)

Heyya! Heyya! Heyya!

Come one, come all!

You're all cordially invited to join the show!

We have something for everyone!

(The few get the most, less to the rest).

See the exibits, ride the rides!

Watch the performances and dramas,

All played out on a global stage.

A continuous world wide performance,

With politics, pandemics, commerce over conscience.

Audience participation a must!

We offer a diverse venue of traumas, dramas and plot twists!

Conspiracy theories are always welcome!

(That's entertainment!)

Watch the military industrial complex dance!

Their amazing undulations, while spinning rationalization!

See it all and bring the kids!

We have features for them as well!

Everything from human trafficking,

Genocide by gender, faith, or ethnicity,

And (of course) child labor horrors!

A never ending drama within the backdrop

Of a failing environment!

And as I stated before,

Audience participation a must!

So, come one and come all!

See profits rise above people,

Something for everyone!

(The few get the most, less to the rest)

Heyya! Heyya! Heyya!

Everyone has a part!

A continuous world wide performance!

(That's entertainment!)

Enjoy the show.

-Stanley Phillips

The Never Ending

Life was a test,

I took it

Failure or success.

.

So it became a lesson,

I learnt from it.

Why quit now?

.

So it became an experience,

I made use of it.

Things were about to change.

.

So it became a task,

I had to finish,

From old scars to new stars.

.

So it became time,

I must be patient with it

Think it through and start small.

.

And patience becomes task.

I have to take... again

For life is a never ending cycle.

.

©Kiyomi 2021

WHAT COULD YOU HAVE DONE?

So great is life when it is seen

in what is felt from past to now.

Where is your placement in this crowd

from distant past to our world?

There were some people who saw Christ.

They believed in Him but kept quiet.

Some followed, some called for the cross.

Where could you have been in this course?

Some saw the marvels which He did

but were afraid to be beside.

Could you have said that He was God

as who said it then he was killed?

The crippled walked, the blind could see,

the dead came back to be alive.

You saw all that, could you defend,

or you believed but in your heart?

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Unpredictable

life is a story that tells itself

in silver portals and black wagons

where bluedrop spiders reign

and corpses are hidden

in the waste of the night

where black angels

are creatures with

dangerous hearts

and chilling secrets

men live and die - bruised by life

they never quench their thirst

to fulfill their dreams or satisfy

their appetites or desires –

still, rivers will flow

and tides will run

hearts will be drowned

in unpredictable streams

of dwindling happiness

JEANETTE NEL LE ROUX

Copyright reserved

THE SHADOWS

Turn on the light bulb

Even though it flickers that way.

Turn on the shadow sock puppets

That creates an imaginary story on the wall.

And watch the shadows fall.

Oh turn on the blacklight

Let's see its eery glow.

Turn on the record player,

There is vinyl sound to explore.

create an imaginary story on the wall.

Turn on the light bulb

Even though it flickers that way.

Oh, turn on the blacklight.

Let everything look strange as Ozric Tentacles jams.

It's suddenly years ago.

I might have still owned my Jamz.

Turn on the sound there's rhythm needed all around.

This scene needs a dream fulfilled.

The sound so sweet and the moment chill.

Turn on the light bulb.

Even though it flickers that way.

Oh, turn on the blacklight.

That creates an imaginary story on the wall.

And watch the shadows fall.

watch the shadows fall.

The blacklight glares against the wall.

Turn on the light bulb.

Even though it flickers that way.

Turn on the shadow sock puppets,

That creates an imaginary story on the wall.

And watch the shadows fall.

Brian Burchette

C 2-20-21

LONELY TOO LONG

I been lonely way too long

All the ones I loved are gone

Being lonely too long causes alot of pain

Leaves too many thoughts in the brain

Makes you feel so down

Like you are under water about to drown

Lonely too long makes you feel so blue

You just don't do things like you used to do

You always sit around and feel sad

Wishing for once you can be glad

Don't feel like going out

Cause you just sit home and pout

Lonely too long it's just not fair

Does anybody really care

Nobody to hold

When it feels cold

There been too many tears

For way too many years

Lonely too long nobody here

Being lonely is what I fear

Nobody wants to come

The damage has already been done

Got no one to hold at night

Just wish we could be held tight

Waiting on someone to call

Our backs is against the wall

Lonely too long will make you crazy

Make you look very lazy

Just been lonely too long

Silas Jackson

Feb 24 2021

.....Ill See You..... TOMORROW MAN

Looking back on how lifes gone i was an awkward teen that playful son,

Some wonder how i made here alive.

Memorizing alphabets rewinding minds to swing those sets and Skipping fear so sorrow cant survive.

I Cant go back to where ive been and in Todays attacks

It's HEART and SKIN to pay them back im told will be my death.

These thoughts Ive had and things I've seen have brought me to this time machine im older now, there is just one way left.

Im gonna be tomorrow man there is no past that is my plan not checking dates im just going to be i cant wait to meet tomorrow me i take my seat i push for power

The seconds passing minutes hours Today's they just won't be around they'll say they put me in the ground

But that's not true.....

We will meet again,

i'll see you through tomorrow's friend I'll touch your life and ill disappear to see your smile..

When,

Tomorrow Mans here!!!

by Terry Dailey.

I Was So Deeply In Love

I was so deeply in love,

Till I read between the lines.

I used to think the definition of perfect was who we were two birds of a feather flocking high above,

Till I connected the dots of every little bit of what you wanted and our heart shaped connection turned into parallel lines.

If misconceptions of beautiful truly resembled beauty only of breaking your heart will I be guilty.

I felt the heartbeats passionately till you said you needed time to find yourself,

I used to adore the smiles that held our hearts together,

Til I realised the self you needed to find was my replacement and so I withdrew my heart and placed it on a shelf,

I used to think we were perfect in every way but I guess perfection is only for a moment and not forever.

we were like stars and a moon but I guess even the moon has to shine along sometimes.

- Emmanuel Rayan Daka

Rayan Emmanuel Daka The RED

Paint Me A New World

Paint Me A Picture Of A New World

And leave it there.

A World of fresh air

And sunshine

A place so divine

Paint Me A Picture Of A New World

A world without pain

And you are protected from the rain

Where you are free to live

And you do not have to give

Paint Me A Picture Of A New World

Where you are happy to be alive

And you prosper and thrive

Filled with trees

And free from disease

Paint Me A Picture Of A New World

With the sounds of laughter

And a happy ever after

Wishing the picture could come true

For me and you

Wednesday 3 March 2021 Peter T Murray

Perception

Perception..

Is all about reflection..

How we see whats happened,,

What is going on..

So a chapter of your life has ended it..

Do you dwell on it..

Do you move on..

Either way that part of your life is gone..

Do let it bring you down?

Carry around the burden?

Carry around a frown?

OR do you learn from it..

Do you move on..

We cant change the past..

Its over..

Its done..

Its gone..

Guess perception is all how you relate..

Do you blame Karma..

Do you blame fate..

Or do you simply let it be....

Well..

Ive learned from the past..

And my perception.

Is that it has taught me..

That for whatever reason..

Some things were just not meant to be..

(C) Patrick Read 1/19/13

Working Class Man

Just a Working Class Man

Doing the best I can

Raised on a working class dream

Hard graft and respect is the theme

Thats my roots

I accept no substitutes

Treated like we are unclean

Told to be part of the capitalist machine

This Class Divide

It is so wide

Working Class is more than a tradition

Its a part of your education

Treated like we are dumb

By the elitist scum

Raised with dignity and honour,

Solidarity to you my brother

Those in power filled with hatred and blatant despise

Time to rise

Make your decision

No more Class Division

United and agree

Know the real enemy

Just a Working Class Man

Doing the best I can

Wednesday 3 March 2021 Peter T Murray

Art

I have never considered myself art

Art is full of beauty

I am full of art

But I am not art

Art is full of longing

I am made of art

But I will never be art

Art is full of mystery

I see art all around me

But art will never be me

Art is full of soul

But I am everything

I am also nothing

This is why I will never be art

-Paula Cohen

Mother Earth Speaks

the pathways

towards Eden

blocked

tortured

made ugly

by man un/kind

immoral lead/errs,

greed speculators

spectors of hell.

brittle blindness

steering

towards illness, deceit

death

human hoarders,

poisonous possessors

of perverted pow/err

cunning con/ceit

conning con/troll

con/seeding nothing

dark Djinns

con/fusing reality

with wreck/less

ruinous effect

a/bun/dance

of confusion

out and out/liers

oxy/gen/morons

to what music

do you dance?

lying

on a bed of horrors?

raging blues

of form/mentored

fear?

porn/oh/graphic

pow/err lust...

or, choose

mystical union

seek

a Soul mirror.

to what

verdant visions

can you give

voice?

sisters of sanity

make a mercy

met/a/more/phosis,

ignite sparks

of universal good

generate light

in the darkness

the routes,

deep roots

towards pure purpose,

perfect pleasure

man/i/festival,

wo/man/feast

sing!

miraculous music

with celestial voices

be the cause,

what good

can you create?

-Lesley Walker-Fitzpatrick

Invisible Crown

An invisible crown.

Many wear about town.

Smiles on their faces.

Needing warm embraces.

Their hearts heavy and sad.

Where and when did it all go so bad.

No joy to be found, gloom abounds.

Underneath is a broken heart.

They never speak of why or how it starts.

Carrying anger, grief and hurt.

Sharped tongued words they blurt.

They strike out at others for their non belief.

As if they placed the crown.

They wear around town.

Wearing that smile to hide what they feel.

God know what inside you is real.

He sees all you hide.

As down the street with that crown you stride.

-Elizabeth Booher Bowman

.

My Love

My Love,

You will never know the pain you caused

When your words were found to be hollow

A love of purity that your hate exhausted

A broken heart left in the rain to wallow

You'll never know how much I loved you

I opened my heart with no boundaries

But the love you gave me was untrue

A pain that brought me to my knees

Your life went on happily ever after

A new love , a new victim to gaslight

Another prey of your emotional disaster

Mesmerized and lost in your sexy deadlight

My life went on but became darker

I became who i was meant to be

Your name left in permanent marker

tops my list of personal misery

You see my heart, it no longer beats

It bleeds an endless river of sorrow

Inking dates on emotional receipts

No returns and no hope for tomorrow

There is a way to ease the suffering

A way not too common but effective

It prevents anxiety from smothering

Freeing the soul and changing perspective

Blood stained steel and dreadful eyes

Erase the pain I feel inside

Finding pleasure in taking lives

Every slice and stab done with pride

Watching, waiting and carefully planning

Learning your new routine and frequent stops

Seeing its attention you're still demanding

Living life just to fulfill your selfish prompts

But you my love, shall not yet die

The time and place must be perfect

It will be a fate you can’t deny

A reunion you won't expect

Those recent murders reported on the news...

Told you I met my destiny in that text

becoming the psycho killer on the loose

You tremble in fear of becoming next

But relax until your dying day is here

You are in my heart and thoughts

I love you unconditionally my dear

You know by now my love was never false

P.S.

Not too much longer now

Love eternally,

Target K. Sinner

©Target K. Sinner 3/11/2021

The Swindler’s Tale

I was always told

that the neatness

of straight up drink

mattered even to charlatans,

that even the lies

among liars

were believable.

Those duped souls

never saw cancer

treated with poison

for profit,

or buildings full of people

destroyed from within

for the sake

of a life long smolder

of control.

These are otherworldly

swindlers,

prone to bathing

in the blood of

abated existence,

and dripping with the

inbred, shortsighted

deformities of a

multitude of singers

that can’t carry

an organic tune

into natural balance.

©cmd 2021 [aka o.monger]

Within The Chaos

Homelife is chaotic

wading through the garbage

haven't even opened the door

Underneath all the trash

my floorplan is simple

two bedrooms, two bathrooms

one kitchen ,one balcony

=-

Beneath the grime

invisible glove prints

once upon a time paid professionals

installed a carpet, they bought fresh doors

wiped the windows and replaced the blinds

Before all my junk was stored in boxes

I was living in another house with the same history

paid professionals mowed the lawn every morning

I get to take it for granted

cause it wasn't my job

They fix all of the left behind damage

In the eyes of the repairman

every tenant is a clean up project in waiting

They don't come over to gab

they come over to fix our mistakes

I know the truth about janitors

they know life is temporary

all things breakdown, they know the weight

of heavy machinery

No other people work as hard

as manual laborers

they hold the tools in their hands

constructing others designs

harvesting clay and brick

They own junkyards and they live as masters

of their equipment

our little worlds in apartments and studios

will inevitably be emptied out and wasted

I'm never going to know the name of the person who designed my building

I'll find no memorial in my bathroom for the plumbers

I'll find no dedications outside of the elevator

no trophies or prizes

shadows in plain sight

eyes and ears that could spot any flaw

and fix it while never asking for praise

they are humble and they are everywhere

Imagine what they could do if we made them angry

My house is a mess at all times, single or with family

I function in world that will only exist for a few more years

before it shifts to a new location

this is an unescapable temporal shift within the life of the low income poet

I'm going to be quite the assignment when I'm gone

after I've moved on

it took the last company a week to get rid of my mess

one week to clean up spilled wine, one week to wonder why there are scratch marks on the windows

why a gold cross was nailed to the ceiling

one week to find my initials carved into the plaster at the base of my bed

Another couple days to repaint the walls

to conquer my shadows shadow

they always do and they always will

because that is what the repairmen are paid for

I left more behind than just my dirt

I left a hidden message on the concrete where I used to smoke

they'd have to tear the sidewalk apart to get rid of it

The message reads Happy Halloween. Now you know

nobody even noticed. We're not so different

we both function in the shadows, we work better without other people around

no matter what, people like us will always exist

within the chaos.

-James Otter

The Right Morn

To the rain, I sacrificed my tear.

Happy am I like a pious morn.

Little wonder the darkness falls

.

Away I will take heed.

To never return a troubled gaze.

And will i let go like a vanishing spray.

.

Indeed, I will ask for a gentle night.

And seek no doubt my patient mind.

So stop being stubborn and follow right.

Surely my war is done.

-Kiyomi Kiyomi

A Painting of Peace

A painting of peace
Strokes of silence
Calm green serene
Absence of violence
Freed from struggle
A beautiful way
A painting of peace
A quiet day

-Cory Tambourine 

http://mothlightstudio.weebly.com

Unknown the Destination Until Arrival

The urge to travel is not so strong

as the urge to travel back, take roads

already travelled where directions are

given in the question,  “Remember this?”

and some destination beyond the four

cardinal points comes into view.  I am

travelling more along those roads that

have brought me to where I am.

If I wasn’t such a fool trying to separate

what can’t be divided, I’d see the roads

I travel are the roads taking me

to no other place I can be.

What Catches Us

Often we forget

the destination

we have arrived 

at remembering

what stopped

us along  the way. 

-Byron Hoot

http://hootnhowlpoetry.com/