Give Me a Lily Pad & The Continuum [two Poems]
What can I do to keep this world in its orbital spin?I gave up trying to win the hearts of the many-.Throw the meat-balls against the wall, stop, stop!!Trying to make them spin, like God did in the heavens!
Sexual longings-a pathway to anger and rage-Turn the page to the cheap hotels, turn the pageGive it a pathway to run, tell your friends, they've won.And don't answer to anyone; hang up the phone?!
Don't go outside the house, become dulcimer-Hit the hammer, the hammer, the hammer, stop, stop!The darkness of the night is coming, open the windowI'll, I'll disappear, no air, no air inside her-anywhere!
Neck bones look weak, like honey over thawed meat:Everyone's neck bones, everyone I see, even me?I'll be a guest of hell soon, the land of no vegetablesOr balloons?just neck bones, everywhere: everywhere.
The place where no one cares, no one cares, no one:Like unfed fish, fish, unfed fish-nibbling at nothing;In a four-sided aquarium, with-with piranhas?Give me a lily pad to sail away, today, today, today!...
I emerged from
A Note by Rosa: two poems: not sure what I want to say on these two poems; interesting, they make me think of why the poet uses what he uses; I know my husband says, it is called "effect" and it makes me take a big deep breathe. Is that what he wants, if so he got it. Rosa
How I wonder what he's doingas I sit alone at night.How I wonder who he's seeingHow I wonder if I'm right.How I wonder if he's everthought of coming home again,and I wonder if he doesn'tcan my heart mend yet again.
Ode, to the Mighty Midget Omac [In English and Spanish]
Part OneMidget History
The Game of Life
When your life becomes unbearable And the light of promise ceases to glow, When all your dreams and aspirationsLie dormant on ambition's death row.
Antidotes for an Alibi
Amy King's first full-length collection, Antidotes for an Alibi, insists that we examine the deceptive clarity of our actions and the goals that motivate us. How does one actually get from "A" to "B"-and is there ever really a "B"? What color is the white space between "A" and "B"? Upon closer inspection, surface realities reveal themselves to be porous and fragile, layered with textures and grains that lead the eye on varying pathways. So what are we to do in a world of newspaper narratives that instruct us toward tidy endings, murmuring that such endings are possible and even inevitable?
Learn About Love From Poet Rumi
Learn about love by reading poetry by a long dead poet named Rumi. No need to look for ancient texts hidden in caves...Search the Net.
The Goat and the Rope [a Poem: in Spanish and English]
The Goat and the Rope
I WANTED TO SAY IT WITH A BUNCH OF FLOWERS A CARD WOULD HAVE SUFFICED.
A World That Doesnt Care
War bombs may explode demolishing man and land.Hurricanes may devastate and leave us entirely bare.Earthquakes may devour and swallow up old landmarks.But nothing is as destructive as a world that doesn't care.
Shakespeares Sonnet XVIII, Shall I Compare Thee to a Summers Day?
Shakespeare's sonnets require time and effort to appreciate. Understanding the numerous meanings of the lines, the crisply made references, the brilliance of the images, and the complexity of the sound, rhythm and structure of the verse demands attention and experience. The rewards are plentiful as few writers have ever approached the richness of Shakespeare's prose and poetry.
You Lost Your Last Gamble and Me
I will never think twice nor will I roll the dice When it comes to my life I will take my Grannio's advice
now is not the time to openopen that great door againnot the time to be more tolerantnot the time to play to win
Africa - Wheres The Profit?
A poetic comment that just welled up inside my head ? why cant we just do something ? before many more are dead?
Farewell to Lester Graybill
I never met a man, who could shake my hand, and make my heart feel like a hearth afire.
My hero, my best friend, my Grannio (a.k.a my Grandmother)
She raised me like I was her own daughter from the day I was born 32 years ago.
No one should have to beg or crawl before humanity. No one should have to scheme to procure philanthropy.
An Old Wood Pile [a poem with notes]
Old skin, once held tightAgainst her skeleton-Rose no more, just drapedLoosely over unpadded flesh;Un-tightened muscles, and tissue,Lost its courage, no-fortitude-,Gone are the days and yearsThat stood against the Indomitable elements; The skeleton, now a landmarkHidden under flesh and bloodGuts and moral fiber, backbone?Collapsed from drudgeryTime, time: cascading inside-.Bones now leaving impressionsAccepting fateLike tarnished silver!...Hands look like autumn leavesFallen from a treeWinter's around the cornerThe door of time is closingLike an old wood pileBeing burnet up-Hard to open thingsHard to do anythingPrecariously balanced-Painfully slow?
Lamenting Poetic Moods [six Poems]
Advance: in Mr. Siluk's poetry one finds symbolist values, sensuous impressions; verbal magic and even childish jingles; at times the popular 8-syllable verse (ballad metre). Free verse, with lamenting poetic moods, even satire (poems inside-out). Here are a few more of his recently written poems. Rosa Peņaloza.
Five Mixed Poems, with Notes [now is Spanish and English]
Catherine Daly reviews Antidotes for an Alibi
Amy KingAntidotes for an AlibiBlazeVox BooksISBN 0-9759227-5-02005
"I heard what you said, Red. Yet, I have to disagree.There's nothing wrong with my voice,You're just filled with jealousy."
|© Athifea Distribution LLC - 2013|