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Poem of the Week
From the brilliant pen of Bill Bogert comes this weeks offering.
by Bill Bogert
wanderlust upon me now,
time to hit the road
cruising on from burg to burg
lightening my load
work for food and stop for gas
a friend in every town
start her up and point the way
no chance to lay her down
furnace heat, and cold hard rain
driving me along
mangy dogs and dirty kids
a smile and a song
why's the heart so hard to please
the mind so far afield
these miles go by but never leave
my wanderlust revealed
by Andy Patton
Words cannot save you,
from the guilt and regret
feelings that I'd never show
I built it up, and then tore it all down
but I was young then,
and I didn't know.
The first time I saw her,
a beauty unseen
covered up in the light of the day
The wheels went in motion-
I thought I should have her-
nothing would stand in my way.
And so, she resisted,
unsure of herself
but I would not be denied
She'd tell me no,
and then give me a smile
so harder and harder I tried.
When at last, she relented,
as I looked in her eyes
shocked at what I could see
This wasn't a game,
it wasn't for fun,
and it clearly was no longer about me.
When I shut the door,
I knew it was over
I left when I should have stayed
She'd write me letters,
and call on the phone
but there were other games to be played.
Time cannot save you,
from the guilt and regret-
feelings I won't get to show
I don't know where you are - and it's too late -
but I'm sorry I was young then,
and I didn't know.
by Barbara Suzanne Carter
The sun is out and reaching down
To brush the frost from the ground
The trees are clothed in crystal garb
Silver white in every yard
Puddles are covered with winter's glass
A temptation that a child can't pass
Fingers cupped around noses cold
Coveting the warmth of their breath as gold
Knitted caps upon their heads
Little cheeks turning rosy red
Please hurry bus - don't be late
It's much too cold to have to wait!
by Dan Doshier
Keep our children safe and strong,
make my honey's life a song
Help our love grow all year long,
That's what I want for Christmas.
Labeled clothes in designer bags,
I'd rather walk around in rags
Just write love on all those little tags,
Thats what I want for Christmas.
What I need I have it all,
so stay away from the shopping mall
Just have my big brother give me a call,
That's what I want for Christmas.
Then spend a little time with me,
sitting in our willow tree
reading a book for an hour or two,
to hear the words I Love You
That's what I want for Christmas
Oh, when I wake up Christmas day,
I'd love to hear my children prayer
and take the old folks pain away,
That's what I want for Christmas
I don't need diamond rings or fancy store bought things
Something hand made to warm my hands or toes,
I might find a need for those,
That's what I want for Christmas
Santa fill the world with peace and joy,
plenty of food for every girl and boy
My sister might like like a little toy,
That's what I want for Christmas.
And when the reindeer pass our house,
I'll be as quiet as a mouse,
when I wake up let me see,
all around our Christmas tree,
Oh, solderer boys who never fight,
Daddy holding Mommy tight
a world that knows wrong from right,
Thats what I want for Christmas.
That's what I really want for Christmas
(c) Dan Doshier 2003
by John Eyler
They pose and they pander,
for power and prestige.
They practice persuasion,
and promise to please.
Such pillars of piousness,
so pathologically proud.
Each a preening panhandler,
each a putz on the prowl.
They prance with their party's,
to their patsy's they preach,
The pure propaganda,
of profit and peace.
We should pollard these pedagogues,
pound them to pulp.
Send them packing to Pakistan,
to preserve their pelts.
These profane provocateurs,
parading as people,
Lets pile them in pits,
and poke out their pupils.
by Joshua Daniel Bligh
There are words,
That make us try
There are days that turn to days
That turn to nights.
There are moments,
Loose in our minds
There are passers
That do all but pass us by.
There are songs
That mother’s sing
There are fathers wives and widows
Who still wear the ring.
There’s a picture - stuck in my head.
It’s a picture of a girl - I once misled.
There’s a dusty frame - around her face.
One day I’ll take it from the mantle to be replaced.
And on that day - across the land,
There’ll be murder everywhere my vision stands.
There are feelings,
That make us think
There are scars so close to marrow
They make us shrink.
There are truths
Where lies reside
In translation they couple with fear
Long thought denied.
There are romantics,
Who weigh the cost
There are mousetraps in the city
Where all love is lost.
There are scarecrows
That resemble men,
There are men across the field
That resemble men.
There’s an ember,
Flaked from the fire
There are tear-filled eyes
Just wanting to retire.
Alone we march - the human soul
So close to God - yet separate from the whole.
In offered time - we wait for more.
In deepest sorrow - we close the door
Across the land - on ripened vines
Here in unpicked lands I will find what's mine
by Leslie McCarthy
Along treacherous mountain roads
Rocks hurling themselves down the steepness
Through the dark mists that rise from the pit of hell
Rides my soul in a land where sun never shines
A frenzied driver whips and lashes as the horses heave and pull
Deeper and deeper into the darkness of your heart
All things good, true and pure
Raped and ruined by you and those doing your bidding
Beware! I come with vengeance in my breast
Beating as robustly as any heart ever beat for true love
So mine beats for justice
I will cut you asunder and feel no remorse
You are a wicked and evil force that the world will be all the better rid of.
The knife you so delectably assaulted and twisted,
With the deceit that lies within you as you lied to me with your eyes,
Will I pull forth to be my weapon
No amount of Christ’s blood or grace will be wasted on you!
And knowing I cannot murder --- even in my heart---
Will I pull you into hell with me,
tormenting one another throughout eternity.
by Glen Graves
It was my plan to play at bein' a man,
To get away
To write,
So I packed up all my campin' gear,
And headed for the remotest site.
Well it's very clear there ain't no man sittin' here
As I start to lose the light,
And I'm in despair at how alone I got,
So deep in the woods tonight
I hear each sound,
Keep turnin' around,
Starin' at nothin' but the dark.
Even the sound of my jaw on my collar
Nearly stops my heart.
What about those folks picked up by UFOs?
Or Bigfoot so close tonight?
Man--these fears loose inside my head
Make a scrappin' bear a delight.
But I'll foil the Devil
(Sorry--nothin' against yuh!)
With the .44, .22, hatchet and knife,
And anything comes a buggin' me--
Well I guess I'll set things right.
Ever cold and staring at
Diamond dust set in black
Until the deepest
Profound blue.
Coffee's brewin'
As I greet the sun.
My limbs are still on tight.
And though I didn't write worth a damn,
Hell--
I was a man last night!
by Andy Patton
These five peaks I got to know,
thru summers heat and winters snow
thru autumns blaze and spring's too fleet,
sunrise at six thousand feet
Moonlit nites as bright as day,
a soft patch of grass where we did lay
past maple leaves and antlers bone,
a million stars yet all alone
Black pups run on a field of white,
hurried geese aligned in flight
hard work will make your garden grow,
these words that rhyme I had to show
A plume of smoke in silhouette,
one dream that I won't soon forget
cool water stings in sweet relief,
we stopped it short in disbelief
A wood so deep for us to play,
now we can leave but always stay
with smiles for you to get back home,
let's plant our feet, no more to roam
So say goodbye to your big sky,
I did not look, I did not try
but found you at the perfect space,
in these faded tracks upon this place
"Who doth greener pastures seek"
I left them all out on Deer Creek
Pumpkin Curse Reversed
by Frances Turney
Great silent fruit
You brewed
In your cauldron of cells
Skin that stole both
Brown of earth
Gold of sun.
Hoo, hoo, hee, hee!
I, too, know alchemy.
From your web of seeds
I’ll pull babes
Into my oven.
Their salty bones
Whet my appetite.
Your flesh stirred
With embryos and herbs
Shall become a pie:
Return earth’s brown.
Finally, I’ll mock you,
Carve holes here
To shape a fearsome face
Light a candle
In your heart
Bring sunlight back
To my dark window.
The Fool That Dreamed
by Roy Hale
My life is a graveyard of broken dreams,
A man living in the shadow of former things.
Reaching for the stars at night,
To wake in the morning...full of fright..
I dared to dream the dream of fools,
Only to find that reality rules…
So I shrink back deep within my soul,
Trying to find peace while growing old.
Born on the wings of an ill wind,
Comes the Grim Reaper, slowly closing in,
But I’ll fight you you fallen angel of light,
And I’ll win by God and all my might..
Flee my presence and leave me alone,
So I can count my losses and try to go on..
I’m a man with lofty hopes and ethereal dreams,
Who knows inside can never reach these things.
But without these dreams there remains only a shell,
A broken man that can never be well.
So shed a tear for this poor broken fool,
And watch him die slowly….as reality rules….
The Intervention
by John Eyler
He bought a new straight axle Humvie
and we laughed at him for days -
offered him a bridge to buy
as he had cash to throw away.
At first he didn't understand
why we all gave him such hell -
he so wanted to be one of the guys
it just wasn't going well
And so we threw him an intervention
and vowed to help him find his way
we had beer and enough hard liquor
to easily fill the Hudson Bay.
And so we started on our Doctorate
on the way that real men think
and first as any real man knows
you have to learn to drink
He learned that draft is better than bottled
every time without exception -
and that if you're drinkin' whisky
single malts are pure perfection.
And then we tutored him on sports
on which to like and which to not
Yes to football, baseball and basketball
no to soccer, yes to golf
Next up trucks and four wheel drives
and which engines really roar
never buy a ½ ton short bed
stick with Chevy, Dodge or Ford
We moved on then to Poker
and how to bluff and spot a tell
he was drunk as an Irish sailor
the intervention was going well.
And then he asked us about women
and the room grew deathly still
We said, "Don't try to understand them -
we've come to know we never will."
And then he said "How 'bout those Chargers"
and we offered him a yell -
we laughed and had another round
the intervention had gone well.
What About Them
by Stephen Van Tuyl
What about them
What about the faces
on the evening news
What do I say to them
while I'm putting on my shoes
what about him
What about the man
with the sign on the street
that says he's homeless and hungry
what do I say to him
as I'm sitting down to eat
What about her
what about the woman
who's husband beats her black and blue
what do I say to her
while I'm making love to you
What about the children
hiding from the bombs
falling on Afganistan and Iraq
what do I say to them
while I'm thinking of payback
What about him
what about the man
staring back from my mirror at days end
what do I say to him when he asks
what about them
CHANGELINGS
by Frances Turney
Bird sounds met us
as we returned to camp:
snips of screeches, trills, rasps,
small entreating melodies.
So many birds in one small tree.
“One canyon wren,” my nephew said.
I was rebuffed, deceived,
suspicious even.
Who was I to curse intent?
I, who’d borrowed lives all day,
clung to ghosts in clean oases
silent in these arid canyons,
walked shoeless on stone trails,
flew to harsh rim, slid eagle eyes
into the coming years, was
ancient monolith, bereft
of salts by wind and wave
yet still enduring change.
Wren, teach me metamorphosis.
We will with one breath sing our songs.
A Knights Secret
by Roy Hale
A Knight stands firm,
Feet spread wide,
No enemy in sight,
Yet the fears won't subside.
Deep into the dark,
His hallow eyes gaze,
Pursuing his quest,
His desire does blaze.
His mind is tortured,
Soul torn apart.
He can defeat all,
Except matters of the heart.
He is a Knight,
His course is clear,
He will never give up,
Till he conquers this fear...
His courage is strong,
His resolve is true,
He will never give up,
Till he finds love true....
Jesus Was a Carpenter
by Mary Hale
His heart was torn in two like stark night into morning
His clothes tattered and ragged
like the spear's sharp blade in his side
His tears shed like crimson blood upon the rocks below
His thorny crown pointed
like the edges of all the stars in His Father's Universe
His soul threading its way out of his body
like the thunderous waves of a thousand oceans
For me, I shudder to think that his death
was like my eternal life
I lay my life open like a book whose pages are sullied
with grime and all at once those pages
flutter in the wind as snowflakes fanciful and free
floating upward to meet his glorious smile as he
opens his arms and takes me in his loving embrace
Welcoming me like a long lost friend who has come home to stay.
crippled dancer
by e' bender-webb
the wind blows
more than gently through the trees.
it talks to the pain
and soothes the heart;
giving strength to ancient knees.
dragging broken legs
you dance your sorrow.
you take away
and you give back;
always working towards tomorrow.
oh mad poet . . .
with your pictures tainted
by lifetimes spent;
is there anyone to set you free?
The Poet King
by John Eyler
Such a captivating thicket
the poets all agreed
disturbing tangled imagery
a daunting haunting read
Obtuse and unforgiving
no one truly could confirm
what the Poet was asserting
so entwining were his terms
A treatise on the toes of God?
A tribute to a cat?
Poets gnashed through every vine
as if it were their last
And the Poet suffered accolades
from all those pruning fools
who tried to cut through
his accomplishment
with their blunt unsharpened tools
Brambles, roots and thorns in rhyme
the Poet who'd be King
couldn't tell a soul
the words he'd penned
weren't meant to mean a thing.
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