A Poem In Your Pocket 2010

All the poems in this posting remain the copyright of the individual writers and should not be used without their permission

Thanks: Dianne, Leroy, Goeffrey, Pris, Vidur, William, Cara, Keith, Lorraine, Sandy, Stevie, Reason, Joseph; Vic; Jay and Ralf (Deep bow to the Bard--William Shakespeare)
much love
gillena


shopping list
I love the way
you write
-- Ralf Bbroeker; DE
[received and added May 3rd]


This Ice

we saw it together
snow growing like mold
on the green street sign
< elevation a giant beanstalk >
higher than this shredding rope
can loop the dying sun
and the < icy road > in yellow
where cars and crows skidded
pointilist congeniality in gray
slipping to monochromatic light
we stared at the blurred areas
bypassing a cabin at the turn
transparent warmth at the fireside
till our nose froze under the lake.
--Jay Coral; US
[received and added Apr 3oth]


for a moment
all worldly cares
are forgotten
amidst wildflowers
in Fish Canyon trail
--Vic Gendrano; PH


bayou, swamp and beach
shrimp,oysters,krill - overkill
Gulf oil spill
--Joseph B. Connolly; US


THE OPEN DOOR
So many locks; so many keys
just one Door holds hope securely.
Seek, knock and ask until you find
the Key that unlocks that Open Door.
--Reason A. Poteet; USA & IN


Petals

Petals fall
from blossoms
to earth
and rest
in sweet nectar
beside the seed
of its womb
to nourish
and strive
in the sand
for another life
of splendor
and breath

surviving only
for the sake of
beauty, truth
and the fragrance
of a flower.
Stevie Strang; California, US


In Stitches

music blossoms through
the eye of the needle
used to mend my heart
covered with patches
of sorrow and joy
use
abuse
disuse
abandonment
and love
dark and light
patterned and plain
it then becomes
a patchwork of art
and emotions
alive and beating
the rhythms
of my life
--© 2010 Sandy Vrooman;CA & US


Pockets full of sins
I carry silently
Its voice louder
Than mine could ever be
--Lorraine Renaud; CA


Earth Day
a blue-green marble
on a track unseen
--Cara Holman; US


Mother Earth

See Mother Earth, our primal provider,
Perturbed, polluted, plundered and raped,
Panting in the pangs of human avarice!
Ominous clouds of conflict keep rising
Perniciously from her beleaguered abdomen
As petty man impudently unleashes his
Unholy inhumanity upon mankind!

Mother Earth burns frenetically now
With shame and disgust too,
Shuddering and quaking with contempt
For her thoughtless, incestuous children.

Her violated virginity vies now for
Justice and regeneration in unprecedented,
Violent and vehement vindication!
--Keith Simmonds; TT


from the outlook
of suicide bridge
the eagle's rock
it was there
they ground my teeth
into dust
carried away
by shining winds
to drift forever
never to rest
to have no place
in this world
--William Sorlien; US


unfathomed stillness
rolling out
waves after waves
shadows on the sands
appearing and dissolving
between moonrise and the sunrise
the unseen lovers
set the horizon aglow
yet again and again
from silence to the lyrics
and to silence again
nowhere does the caravan halt
--Vidur Jyoti; IN


Sara Discovers Norman

Sara is flash lightning,
a loose wire,
her current not quite
touching ground.
She got a tattoo once,
pierced her belly button,
sewed roses all over her
size six baggy jeans.
She wishes she'd known
Janis Joplin, Martin Luther King,
and The Chicago Seven; she admires
people who walk outside circling wagons.
She's attracted to Norman.
In his Lands' End pressed slacks
and tailored shirts, he almost
blends in, but his shoes
are as scuffed as hers.
--Pris Campbell; US (from The Nature of Attraction a collaboration between Pris Campbell and Scott Owens, published by Main Street Rag Press)


A Prayer for my Children

When you find yourself in a far away land
surrounded by men, animals that mutter strange
sounds, do not be afraid: neither you, your parents,

nor your ancestors have ever been alone.
So trust the earth to bear you up, follow
the wind as it leads you through valleys

clustered with trees heavy with fruit--
some that seem familiar enough to eat,
but you still aren't sure they are the same

as the ones you left on the other side
of the river that you've now forgotten.
Eat. Feast on the bounty. Feed the fire

that burns away the knot in your stomach,
sets ablaze the horizon, all that your eyes
can see--that has been promised

to you since your cry pierced the morning air:
your parents bathed you with kisses,
baptized you with caresses,

swaddled you in care before you uttered
your first words to the moon, sun, stars,
wobbled your first steps into unknowing--

all the while rising into your inheritance.
And if you awaken under the branches of a cotton
tree, cradled in its roots, draw a circle around

yourself and all those whom you love, cross
yourself three times before you step over
the threshold. Welcome the ancestors,

all the kindly spirits who have followed you,
your parents across many seas, oceans,
and deserts; entertain them with strong drink

and soft food: rice, yams, bananas, the ever
present rum to bless the hands that have lifted
you up, and sanctified the place you now call home.
--Geoffrey Philp; JM(from his forthcoming collection, Dub Wise)


"Kissed your breasts with lips that are Potter's Hands
To reshape their ancient gold...
Held your head in my palms as a Sun among trees,
Eye whispered to God:
Oh, Taste of endless Fruit, be mine!
--LeRoy Clarke; TT


LOVECHILD
make incense from the flowers
dance naked in the light
weave a blanket
fringed with stars
to cover you at night
breathe kisses to the morning
braid songs into your hair
blow wishes on
the feathered spores
that surf the curls of air
and if a storm should hurt you
pour honey on the pain
chase the clouds
and catch them
then laugh!
and drink the rain
-- Dianne Borsenik; US


funeral wreath
some of the flower buds
still to be opened
--gillena cox; TT


All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
--William Shakespeare (1564-1616)


Join the celebration at Lunch break; Poem In Your Pocket 2010; if you
email me a poem i'll post it today. Last years celebration can be seen here

'Poem In Your Pocket' its origin here