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(Prior to May 2009 Poems were selected each week)
past poem of the month/week poems
January 2010
December 2009
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November 2009
Sun Bursts In Springtime-by Tessy Eggerman
October 2009
Meringue- (Ballade) -by Janet Budd on Poetrydances.ning.com
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September 2009
Adieu! Our Guest Birds- by Naseer Ahmed Nasir on Poetrydances.ning.com
August 2009
Descending Sinai- by Patricia M Mahon on Poetrydances.ning.com
July 2009
Tortured- by Yvonne Elmasri on poetrydances.ning.com
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June 2009
This awful life-
by Rebecca Dawn- on poetrydances.ning.com
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May 2009
by Cecelia Gay on ceceliasplace.com
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Website details: www.ceceliasplace.com
30.04.2009
on agingeversogracefully.blogspot.com
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19.04.2009
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Website details: www.jackhuber.com
05.04.2009
River of Release by Danny McMahan
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Talking to myself again, choked by arms of ice,
memories of how it used to be blurr before me.
I wait on her to achieve a pinnacle of love
I can not reach on my own. I swim in her aura,
essence and beauty...my life is not enriched.
Visions open wounds; I tremble, the mirror
cries how small, ugly and diminished.
I grow to hate her as emotions sour
knowing her heart has no kindness.
She lacks consciousness that I exist, a world
blinded by fantasy, her true nature flows,
through an underground channel where I
breath to survive. Sadness...tears from
a child's lips, love never was assured
in her drunken rages.
The river's gradual flow becomes white water
rushing over boulders. The sun's gentle warmth
is absorbed in trees that line the shore,
leaves parade autumn tints. Ducks take flight
silence is broken by wings beating air. The mallard
and mate follow in nature's order as their squawks
echo over black water that reflects amber shapes.
Rising sun of copper above sparse gray cloud.
I wade knee deep water to release a blood soaked
burlap bag, stuffed full it tumbles down choppy river:
I scream out...Good-bye Mother.
29.03.2009
Poetry Dancer-
by Ernesto Pangilinan Santiago
on voicesnet.org
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Blog: http://thesoundofpoetryreview.wordpress.com/
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http://www.pr.com/press-release/138110
15.03.2009
Shades of Gray by Ronald Kilgore
Standing by the water's edge, I think
Of her and cinch my collar close to void
The chilling breeze. She said ...........
Mist, so fine it fails to fall but taunts
My face to let me know it's in the air,
Veils the distant shore, a quarter mile
Away or more, while ripples lap beneath
My feet and roar in miniature relief.
..............I had always
To be right, everything was black
And white. I never thought myself that way.
I wonder why .............
Darkened trees on the opposite side present
A belt separating skirt from blouse,
Preventing water from touching clouds ashen
In a canopy that folds low overhead.
I never knew so many shades of gray.
.............. I was oblivious to see
That which now she finds repugnant in me.
Yesterday I felt so confident in myself.
08.02.2009
On the gramophone, Elvis is asleep;
Your slender fingered caresses
Are for the piano, your high pitch soprano
-not made for whispered endearments.
A child's small voice is drowned...
By Schubert, Verdi and Strauss.
© Beatrice van de Vis
23.02.2009
Nothing Gold Can Stay by Joseph J. Breunig 3rd
Standing at the threshold
of Death’s ultimate door,
my last gasp escapes me…
As I’ve never experienced before.
Into the Heavenly realm
I ascend in wonderment,
now housed in an incorruptible body
and thankful that from sin I did repent.
Standing in God’s throne room
freed of all Earthly flesh,
my spiritual essence is energized
and feeling fully refreshed.
Now gathered unto my Savior,
unencumbered reality is more than it seems;
for to be in His Presence
is my accomplished dream.
Having been given my kingly reward,
in these times of everlasting days,
willfully I set my crown at His feet.
For upon my head, nothing gold can stay.
___________________
Author Note:
When I wrote this piece, I was unaware that this title is that of a famous piece by Robert Frost. Given the great difference in subject matter, don't think that I "borrowed" anything else from him. The title was used as a prompt for a poetry contest.
22.02.2009
Words by John L. Snook Jr.
She scans the page and words she feels are hers begin to live.
Being sure they’re meant for her she feels a warmth and need to give.
She holds them tight against her breast as if a soothing salve.
She cradles each as if they were a child she’s yet to have.
She’s sure they’ve all been written just for her and her alone.
She knows each word is hers and knows that each has found it’s home.
For no one else has lived the life the words have said she’s lived.
She’s certain that the words can make her feel alive again.
The words tell of her life’s past loves and loves that are to be.
Of heartbreak that can still be felt years after it’s set free.
Of sorrow only she has felt with more she’s sure to come.
The words tell all of this and more in some forgotten tongue.
Her soul devours each word as if her last meal here on earth.
And kindles all forgotten thoughts of dreams she’s left to perch.
And as she reads the words she’s taken places new and old.
And wishes that have never lived she now can have and hold.
It’s funny how mere words when placed upon a page can live.
And each one reads a different line with meaning just for them.
And so a writer writes and readers read the same bold font.
But each one feels the songs for them, the words their souls will haunt.
15.02.2009
hope in unison - by Rio and Mamta
Rain clouds dissipate,
caressed by your smile.
and the night forgets,
shadows on my skin.
I am the wilted spirit,
as it limps through.
Silver bows can be tied
with jaded fingers.
You catch fireflies,
since (we know together)
the universe glows
in their tiny bodies.
Ra throws a gold web,
as day stands still.
Even night seems to be
scrubbed with light.
I was the lone cypress,
hunched over on a cliff,
until you reminded me
my branches grant shade.
You drop down
like a shooting star
out of Turkish blue skies,
with answers for me.
08.02.2009
The Old Woman Dreams by Joanne Cucinello
She dreams
with slow breath
rising in her chest
white haired and soft eyed.
She sleeps now in the day sometimes
and talks to spirits in the night.
No need for clocks anymore,
she says, as she watches the sun
move across the sky leaving shadows on the porch.
So many friends have crossed already
and she wonders . . .
what keeps her waking each morn..
Eyes close again as the last rays leave the sky
and for a moment she is young.
A brief dream passes through her mind
and he is there sitting at the table waiting with a smile.
"Oh, my darling" she whispers, "it's taking too long."
Sighing she stands, awake now,
opening the screen door into the house
but the table is empty and so is his chair
just little Lucy
purring and dreaming too.
A cup of soup, a piece of bread . . . food enough tonight.
Slippers shuffle across the room to the closet and her robe.
Nothing much appeals to her these days once the night comes.
All the engines are slowing down inside and she is making ready
for her last dream coming soon to take her to the other side . . . and he who waits.
Joanne Cucinello ©2008
01.02.2009
Silent Voices by Claudia Anne Krizay
Snowflakes have been arrested in a frame of time;
Rivers are now frozen still,
Ice-clad inlets
Consume the reflection of the full moon at twilight.
My eyes
Control the hands of time.
The light of the stars
Refract against this mysterious
Pathway that
I walk everyday
Without freedom or direction, towards the home of the angels
That had been forsaken?
Every time I capture a shooting star,
And hold it within my hands,
It burns out, and then dissipates.
Voices unobtrusively
Tiptoe past me at times
Whispering their innocuous words to me,
Moments of reality have become
Flurries of confusion and
Shattered moments of tranquility.
I am searching for that
Quiescent land of eternal sunshine
Where shooting stars never burn out,
And the moon remains forever full.
Tomorrow I shall find my rainbow
Before a storm begins again,
And seize it within a net of gold
Bask in all of its glory until
25.01.2009
Nothing to Say by Brandon Farinha
An endless stare into a blank piece of white abyss
A desperate longing to free the words from within a bleeding heart
Yet the blood is that of glass
And with each falling drop the words shatter in defiance
Exploding into a lost land of emotional purgatory
Thus never making the transition from thoughts to words
Stream by stream the anguish pours from the depths of his hollowed eyes
A constant torture playing over and over again in endless repetition
For this is a game where winning doesn’t exist
Bullets once fired
Can never be taken back
And exploded windows
Can never be pieced back together
Just as a life once taken can never be returned
An agonizing truth of a friendship stolen
The refusal to accept a fact void of any alternatives
All emphasized by the cracking strain of his clenched teeth
Countless bottles filled with liquid numbness
Prayers of salvation wrapped in memories laced with smiles
The loud sound of frustrated fists on a helpless table
Yet even still the abyss remains blank
With nothing more than a blinking line to stare at
The fact is unchangeable
Such a desperate hopelessness
Knowledge of inability to change that which can’t be controlled
With no other option than to stand in the fire
And burn alive in the black flames of loss and anguish
What he wouldn’t give to have his friend back
To have the freedom of words filled with expression
Yet the blood still shatters as the fire rages on
And the blankness remains as he sits comatose in his chair
Staring hopelessly into the blankness
With endless feelings and emotions to express
And yet even still
With nothing to say.
18.1.2009
The Color You Call Blue by Ray Neighbor
you can write about your wars
the battles you've won or lost
you can sing about your highways
all the souvenirs you tossed
tell me all about sweet marie
how she left you all alone
how you wanted to end it all
how the pain went to the bone
you can drop down to your knees
cry the whole night through
somewhere someone lays alone
from a wound cut clean an true
somewhere someone is bleedin
for the color you call blue
sing me about your bad times
sing me and make me cry
tell me about your lost plans
and every dream you watched die
sing me loud your misery
let the world know your pain
tell it how confused you are
how it feels alone in the rain
tell me how it feels my friend
sing me about the life that's you
somewhere someone is bleedin
for the color you call blue
tell me about every alley way
every wrong turn you've ever made
let people know how unfair life is
represent all the bruises laid
write a song of a river deep
about the mountains you have faced
tell me how helpless feels
when everything you love's erased
tell me about how hard you tried
but everything you tried went wrong
sing me all about your path
put every failure in your song
when you have screamed out every hurt
you have thrown out all that's true
somewhere someone's bleedin
for the color you call blue..
11.01.2008
I Want by Angela Rizzitano-Bellenis
To smell your sweet perfume.
I want to see you smile,
and watch it light up the room.
I want to be your protector.
To keep you away from harm.
I want to lay beside you
and always keep you warm.
I want to give you the world
and everything in between.
I want to show you what love is.
The way you see it in your dreams.
I want to share with you my feelings.
But what I want most of all.
Is to find the courage to tell you.
How far you made me fall.
4.01.2009
Love's Imagination by Nakya Cohen
I’m in love with the concept of everything that’s not real.
Although the countenance of love disguises it’s legitimacy for the moment,
The feeling doesn’t last too long then
I’m right back where I started-wondering where I went wrong.
As I massage the false realities of my heart- I start
To wonder what it is that I am truly in search of.
What can be more than basking in a unit of one sixteenth of an hour
or 60 seconds of ecstasy?
They tell me I’m living in a figment of my heart.
I say- isn’t that what love is all about?
You reach down in the abyss of your soul
and inspire passion to exude to the surface of the unknown.
The emotions of how you feel when you're with him and when
you’re not.
Contemplating - he loves me- he loves me not.
Could it be I have created expectations of nothing more than
Love’s Imagination?
28.01.2009
Sonnet V by William Laughlin
The scent of spring time rain blows upon the breeze,
A sweet perfume hangs lavish in the air,
A spring shower falls lightly through the trees,
The woman; revealed draws my lonely stare,
The wind picks up and moves us together.
In a warm embrace our passions revealed,
My heart hangs heavy, I’m smitten by her.
Our lips intermingle, my breath she steals,
The rain falls heavy cleansing sinful souls,
We are made one as the downfall ensues.
We each feel the heat as the passion flows.
Spent and sweaty; exhaustion takes its cue.
We lay together as the rain moves on,
She closes her eyes and the night is gone.
