Welcome to the Town of Feeling
Happy, Sad, Mad and Glad,
Moved in down the streetCautious watched them, from her window,
Wondering, which one should I meet?Confused came in with overwhelmed and said,
"The Panics have come to town"Then Hopeful called the carefulls,
And said that Happy was a clown.Anxious came in with the news,
Confident had called a town meetingTo take a vote for Mayor,
And to Welcome the new neighbors to Feeling.
A Case of The Fears
Chicken Soup is good for a coldSleep is good for the FluWhen I get a case of the FearsWhat is a person to do?It is not bacteriaAlthough it can eat away my soulIt is not a virusYet, it can keep me from feeling wholeI know what will do the trick,What will put me back on top,A great big bowl of Ice CreamWill really hit the spotThat was great and now I am doneOne bowl just won't doIf one is good, then more is greatAnd now I have eaten two.Bowls three, four, five and sixCame and then they wentI think my case of the fears are fixedLook at how my time was spentI am getting sleepyIt is time to go to bedMy fears are no longer in my stomachNow they are in my headI close my eyes and I can seeThe Fears I want to killI will do, whatever it takesTo keep the monsters still.
I Hate The Wait (Weight)
I get up in the morningAnd want to stay in bedOh, so nice and warmLike fresh from the oven bread.My day is oh so busyI wish that I could stayIn the quiet of my houseIf only I could play.
Why I enjoy Writing?
During interviews and general conversations with the public,one of the most difficult questions for me to answer(timely and thoroughly) is,"Why do you enjoy writing"?So due to the challenge manifested in such a question,I pondered on creating an answer. Many reasons came to mind,but after digesting much"time for thought",I managed to condense my response to three items.
Growing hurts sometimes;
saying goodbye to friends,
to things you've known and done
to things you wanted to do.
Growing heals sometimes
the shattered dreams and hopes
of a life you once knew
leading you to a new knowledge of yourself.
How wonderfully sweet to be a dweller
dwelling on the road of goodbye.
Bittersweet tears fall as I think
of all the places I'll never see,
all the faces I'll never know,
all the joys I'll never share,
as I head for the unknown.
Find the Magic
FIND the MAGICFind the Magic
As you release old bondage
Come out of hiding
And see the starsFind the Magic
As you expose the pain
Let the tears flow
And find beauty in your bodyFind the Magic
As you scream from the beating
Run from the threats
And feel the warmth of a hugFind the Magic
As the little girl is silenced
Told she is too smart for her own good
And she finds her place of honor as she speaks her mindFind the Magic
As the ghosts creep into dream
Haunt your daily life
And you meet them at the crossroads and move onFind the Magic
As you drift out of your body, avoiding the anger
Observe the separation
And you join the body temple once again to rejoice in this unique wonderFind the Magic
As you listen to the conflicts and
Watch in horror
And emerge from the water whole and beautiful in a rainbow of colorsFind the Magic,
For you are whole once again© 2004 Susan BaconSusan Bacon is an researcher, teacher and author. Contact her through her web site http://www.
Ocean Heal Me
Ocean Heal MeOcean heal my wounds
Let your waves curl and foam on my body
Wash away blood, heal scarsOcean renew me with your power
As unceasingly you roll
Giving strength that's been drainedOcean keep me warm
Wrap me in your brine
Caress me with your tidesOcean disperse my tears
As they flow in you
I cleanse my soulOcean let me grow in your depths
Color me vibrant blue, coral, green
Clear = revitalizedOcean your spray anoints me
Cool and refreshed
My spiritual renewalOcean be my friend
Hold me flowing in your currents
Ever moving, ever changingOcean, heal me.© 1983 Susan BaconSusan Bacon is a researcher, author and teacher.
now is not the time to open
open that great door again
not the time to be more tolerant
not the time to play to winnow is not the time for justice
evolution mercy choices
not the time to pet the puppies
yipping with pathetic voicesnow is not the time for kindness
not the time for compromise
not the time for loving blindness
not the time to close my eyesnow for one too many people
not that i have gained no good
heart has sown but flesh is reaping
tears to mind and wasted bloodnow my inner wolf seeks equals
only those whose chords can howl
deadly whether lone or social
defending young or on the prowltell me not that you would die
upon the spines of my displeasure
live for me and for you will i
cherish each cell as if a treasureput me not inside a cage
but roam with me through snow and sun
be by my side or breathe my dust
for i shall bleed again for noneNiki Lasher
Artist, Writer, and Webmatron
JOINEDHeart beat of man
pounding - yet
beat of a nation.Words of man
written - yet
My Final Defeat - Fixed Competition
She probably can't remember and I know I can never forget..
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 adviceYou play the hand you're dealt when it comes to who will be your Dad - But if you bluff about a card's face value for too many years you forget you had - No Aces or King of Hearts in your original deck - But rather a worthless Joker-So Wild and Mad..
Its What She Didnt Say
When I hear your voice inside my head it makes me think of you every single day as I fight back tears of sadness and wonder if you're okayMy life is empty without you I wish time would take away the pain but the ache in my heart persists and my simple hopes seem in vainI realize how much I hurt you and now I know it's too late to tell you how sorry I am and expect you not to hateI don't deserve a second chance to show you how much I care when you needed me the most I know I failed to be thereNow your trust in me is gone forever and I will never have the chance to say I really hope your dreams come true and happiness finds you every dayI would give almost anything in life if I could go back to that day and erase everything I said and did to make your heartache go awayWhat hurts the most is this is what you didn't say and the absence of these words haunt me each and every day..
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.She loved me like nobody else has ever loved me in my life.
You cannot make someone love you. All you can do is be someone who can be loved.
More Articles from Poetry Information:
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English professor sees poetry in everythingHouma CourierPriya Keefe believes poetry is all around us. Although having a conversation on an airplane or going grocery shopping may not seem poetic on the surface, Keefe believes the art is there if you look hard enough. â€śI write about being human and how ...and more »
'Overland' poetry prize 2017 shortlist announcedBooks+Publishing'Overland' poetry prize 2017 shortlist announced. 19 February 2018. The shortlist for the 2017 Overland Judith Wright Poetry Prize for New and Emerging Poets has been announced. The shortlisted poems are: 'Guarded by Birds' and 'Dropbear Poetics ...
Chaffee Art Center invites poets to join Poetry Writing Groupvtdigger.orgRutland â€“ The Chaffee Art Center is starting a Poetry Writing Group and is looking for members. The goal of this group is to connect people who want to share their craft with others and are looking for inspiration and encouragement in a non-threatening ...
Make a list, turn it into poetry!Coast WeekendSEAVIEW, Wash. â€” The Sou'wester Lodge hosts â€śPoetry Through List Making,â€ť a workshop with Astoria writer and teacher Heather Douglas, 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. Saturday, Feb. 17. Intimidated by the poetry-writing process? Author Ray Bradbury was known to use ...
Purdue Northwest Pioneer
Poetry slam celebrates resiliencePurdue Northwest PioneerAspiring poets performed pieces with themes of love, family and skin color at the Building Community Through the Arts poetry slam on Feb. 15 at the CHESS Art Gallery in Hammond. Local poets Moises Pulido, Kaila Buggs and Brookelyn Burks were awarded ...
Stone Beds [A Poem and an Advance]
[Pompeii's surge]Advance: after the great eruption of Pompeii's nearby volcano, Vesuvius, some two-thousand years ago in the heyday of the Roman Empire, what was left of the city were mostly ashes of stone from an unleashing furnace; it is hard to imagine what the people went through (none, not one person survived). I can only guess from the looks of the city today, and in its early excavations, its people were baked alive or asleep, like pottery.
Testimony to the Night [In English and Spanish]
In the quiet of the arctic night-
In its deep northern skies,
Dim are the lights, in its coldEvening frost?!
Even the stars of the arctic
Seem silently stone frozen!Here, here is where you find
Peace and the beast within-!
Remote, no ears or wordsTo clutter the mind
To entrench the throat;
Here, here is where you die?(for a moment).Here, the sky has eternal eyes
Eyes with cosmic tides
Tides that never rest: they warWith the Universe-
Likened to a dark deep abyss;
Endless and never resting?Here my eyes seek and search
In countless hours, ebbing and
Sweeping the heavens aboveNumbing, changeless-
Are the cosmos, the heavens?
Here resides a strange peace?Here, resides a strange peace
With an army of stars to defeat
Shinning, silently in the darkThe ebbing, eldritch dark;
Time has no relevance here,
Here, resides a strange, peace?Cold and oddly numb are my feet,
As I look up, upon the many bridges
One star bridging the next-as if,If Kings and Queens were
Guarding them-the Hosts-
O-Yes! A strange, strange peace?Ah! Praise, praise be to thee, to thee
Flaming, blazing firmaments-ye,
Ye, remind me not, of the wars I left,Of the foes, divine immortals?The enemies that never rest
Ah! Praise, praise be to thee, to theeI hear music, harmony from afar (there)
There are storms hidden in a storehouse,
For tomorrow-war beyond, beyondOrion's dust?perpetual dust;
There, there the sun is dim to bleak.
Two Poems, with Figurative Language
Says Mr. Dennis Siluk, when asked to review his poetry somewhat, for he hesitates all the time when I ask him to so; I can tell you.
A Poem - By Lorraine KemberIt was a day like any other and mother, father, sister, brother, were carrying out the customs of their land.
When suddenly without warning, Mother Nature came calling,
shook the earth and stole the ocean from the sand.
Sleep, Dreams, and a Poem
The Incubus' Flash-lightHe looked inside my head
And found a dreamHe didn't like-;As I looked back at him,
I found an incubus Shinning a light(and stole this poem from
him-last night).Thoughts: Dreams and Poetry: in dreams we let go of our inhibitions; in poetry we write them back out.
It Was Not Me
It was not me as I am now.
It was not me as I was then.
(to africans in diaspora)africa here i come, africa
africa of the black soul
the soul of an ancient culture
the culture of your timid tribes.its your voice i hear africa
your voice of the talking drums
your beaded drums and the royal trumpeter
the metal gong of your town crieri have come to see your music dance
i have heard of your ageless minstrels
have i not heard of your swinging hips!
i have heard enough and have come to watch
wouldn't you dance for me africaafrica here i come africa
would you not show me to your tribes
the timid tribes of your sweetened tongues
the varied tongues of your virtuous menafrica, black soul africa
tell me about your gods
your gods of the sky and of the mother earth
your gods of the hills and of the rivers aboundshow me to your kings africa
your kings of the ancient dynasty
the ancient dynasty of rusted spear and shield
africa, here i come africaHEAVENLY GUESTheavenly guest
in its own awake
pelting on men
as well, the gods
drop by drop.
Ode to: The Ice Maiden of Ampatos Summit [now in: English and Spanish]
Dedícate to Antonio Castillo. L.
Take some time to stop and look at nature. Pick up a rock or two and think about where it might have started out and what it might have gone through to end up where you found it.
Ed Gallagher Dec. 11, 1907 - Sept.
The Butcher of Lima and Footprints to Mantaro Valley (Two Poems)
Footprints to Mantaro Valley
(Peru; in English and Spanish)In what retreat art hid?-Where falling mountains groan
In shadow and amongThe rapids of the Rio?
Is not your name Mantaro Valley?Beyond the footprints of the Andes--?I can hear your voice in echoesI can hear thy voice, divinely low.
I do but know thy by a glanceAs the clouds above me know? .
The King and Delka & Moiromma: the Cold Planet [Parts 25 and 26]
#25The King and Delka
[Split Mawkishness-on Moiromma /Part V]Sickly SentimentalityI have sought out friends
Only to find rawness
Of their passion;
And the uniformity
Of their vision.Who out there can know
My cerebral verve?(Only the long dead)By King Moir I[Of Moiromma]Ah! the aimless cosmos come back to his mind as he stands on his balcony looking up into he eerie dark.
Two Poems: San Jeronimo Brook & [in English and Spanish]
Fair Andes! Thy arms reach highOf iron-woven solid stone
Thu art a condor to the skyOf glory hidden in thy heartSo many paths, a maze of art?In thy old, Mantaro ValleyWhere adobes, breathe and tremble
Beyond your rustic shadowsThere lays the prettiest of brooksIs my heart, within its stream!My image deeply carved, rippledIn its undiluted shallow watersWaiting, just waiting for me?As it opens up, opens up my soulMy rippled soul-searching-eyes!..
Have you ever experienced infatuation with someone you know is not a good match for you? Or how about an interesting relationship that roots itself deep in your memory..
Two Poems on the Traditions of Peru [in English and Spanish]
[Peruvian]Sometimes, it's not wise
To share your wisdom
---as did, Atahualpa
(The Inca King) in the
Game of chess; thereafter,
He was condemned to death.6/6/05 #713Note: Atahualpa, was the most famous of the Inca Kings, in the 16th century of Peru, I do relieve, and was held for ransom by the Spaniards.
Beautiful Dreamer, Stephen Foster, Americas First Folk Song Writer
"Beautiful Dreamer" was written by Stephen Foster just before his death in 1864 at age 37. The song became one of his most famous and most popular.
Four Poems: Two for the Devil, Two for Peru
Here is some witty poetry (not sure if that is the proper word: witty, but it will do): one poem on the Aztec year 2012, a year that has been in the public's eye quite a lot; one on cloning, and the biblical end time events--which, if I may add seems ripe for the monster events that are said to take place; and two poems dealing with some tradtions of Peru; one imparticular, on vacationing, where not to go; all the makings for some thought.Aztec BabyOn December 25, 2012 AD
The Devil had an idea-
He'd clone himself
In the form of a baby;
Called the Antichrist.
The Dead God of Copan (in English and Spanish)
English VersionAnd the Death God said: "Let it rise to its glory in the Rio Valley-for a season; then let it be gone, we shall call it Copan?"Prologue: Empires come and go, liken to cosmic events, or the storms around the world: Atlantis, Mu, Greece, Persia, Rome, the Inca Nation, and even the great Maya heroic times of Copan, in Central America. All came and all left, one way or another; now just dust and artifacts in the spiral of time.
THe Monster Mash, A Graveyard SMASH (short story I wrote when I was 11)
The Monster Mash
The Graveyard SmashHave you heard of the Monster Mash? I suppose you know the story of how it came to be, right? Well, I'm here to tell the TRUE story to you.It sarted out late one night, when all monsters where out of human sight.
Rules for Writing Poetry
You've been writing poetry since that first assignment in your high school writing class. You know the rules about writing poetry, right? Are there rules? Well, if you frequent the poetry forums across the Internet as much as I do, you'd find that there are a lot of amateur poets who adamantly declare that there are no rules for writing poetry and if someone even suggests reading poetry or books on poetry, many of the amateur poets will throw up a defensive front.