Gifts For The Soul
a poet is only an ear,
and a naked pen...
becomes less,
when he has a name,
even less a title.
the best lay down
their pens and
pick up shovels,
turning the earth in
stillness, season by season.
open the windows
and doors to the heart,
and sweep out the trash.
leaving gifts for the soul,
the tiny droppings of birds,
that just took flight...
a small mound of ashes,
a tiny wisp of smoke!
the imprint of a kiss
on lips long grown cold!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Being Born!
continually being born...
...a thousand tiny deaths,
.....a thousand tiny births.
season to season,
....leaf to limb to bud,
.....conceptions to grasp,
to letting go of....
..snow like stillness,
....bringing new birth!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's Hard to Grow
Little do they know,
Each season has an ending.
With one clean sweep...
What was no longer is to be!
It's hard to grow,
And go through doors that have to close.
But for them...
They want these doors stayed open.
But they've been stopped...
Hitting bottom from the top.
Dropped and blocked.
Little do they know,
Each season has an ending...
Swoosh
With one clean sweep...
What was no longer is to be!
Oh Lawd it's hard to grow,
And go through doors that have to clossssuup.
But for them...
They want these doors stayed open.
Little do they know,
Each season has an ending.
With one clean sweep...
What was no longer is to be!
It's hard to grow,
And go through doors that have to close.
But for them...
They want these doors stayed open.
But for them...
They want these doors stayed open.
But for them...
These doors will not be opened again!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Midwinter Spring
Cloudless sky big and blue,
pale yellow sun warms clear air.
Now comes a new day;
a new season begins,
where winter has been.
Where sorrow has been
a tiny huge shift toward healing,
toward hope.
A new season begins
where winter has been.
Fragile warmth touches chill soil,
tender shoots push toward the surface
seeking nourishing rays.
A new season begins
where winter has been.
A heart slowly opens in tentative inches,
pain still fresh and loud within;
blue sky reaches down.
A new season begins
where winter has been.
The chatter of baby birds
rises on fresh air,
touches the ear, turns the mind.
The heart hears a tiny huge voice consoling.
A new season begins
where winter has been.
(1/2009)
Open Season On My Heart
Here's to the corners yet to turn
Here's to the bridges yet to burn
Here's to the whole thing blown apart
It's open season on my heart
Days go by like flyin' bricks
Leave gaping holes, too deep to fix
I'd just stay home if I were smart
It's open season on my heart
I can't blame anyone but me
For this wreckless fool I've come to be
My tired excuses just don't fit
They don't look good from where I sit
I've tried to change without much luck
I reach the point where I get stuck
I hit the streets the fireworks start
It's open season on my heart
I can't be something that I'm not
I can't give what I haven't got
I don't know where or why or when
I only know the shape I'm in
So here's to the clown down in my mouth
Here's to the whole thing going south
My own true love's turned poison dart
It's open season on my heart
Here's turning heartaches into art
It's open season on my heart
song performed by by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Crooked Ways Of The Tiny Birds
feelings are sometimes like the tiny birds
of summer feeding on a few grains
on the wide yards of the garden where the grasses
spread far
some feels being smothered by the indifference of other
tiny birds
separated by the distance of the long lines of
parallel electric poles
imagine the image of tiny birds sitting in there
looking for pecking
one notices the vastness of the sky
the unfinished climb of the hill
the vanishing paths of trails long untrue
feelings like tiny birds fly away
but there is no reason to be afraid on the
facts of nonreciprocating birds
ah, the world is wide and too interesting
to be ignored
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Is Your Christmas Small?
Is Christ the heart of Christmas, is God in the place He should be?
On a day that we’re shuffling gifts, is it all just about you and me?
Isn’t Christmas about a King, who came to this earth for everyone?
And peace to all He would bring, as this Ruler was God’s own Son.
This very One, who came so meek, did not remain a child so small,
For that, baby so mild and weak, would grow to be The Lord of all.
But if people think of Christ at all, it won’t be as The Lord on High,
He is still that tiny baby in a stall, and in this time, we pass Him by.
How many people, would you say, of all the families on this earth,
When they celebrate Christmas Day, look beyond that infant birth?
How many people truly understand, as you consider every nation,
That Christ came to a tiny land, to bring the world God’s Salvation.
How is it men have come so far, within this intelligent human race,
Yet in this season, men will bar, all Truth of God’s Saving Grace?
Not using this Holy time of year, to lift up God’s Christmas Truth,
While giving in to political fear, concerned only of man’s reproof.
Why was Christ born my friend, to give the merchants a holiday?
Or, was it God’s means to an end, to show all men a better way?
Christmas would be awful small, if we didn’t have hope in Christ,
Who came to earth to die for all, so all men can have eternal life.
Companion In The Room...
keep watching
over a tiny candle light
be careful with your breath
close the windows
lock the doors
on still air
and cold stare
the tiny candle
light shall
be alive and
warm
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Twenty
This is my world, small as it is,
It is a planet by itself with very
Small moons, and tiny stars,
And so tiny, you cannot just
See me there, I am hiding,
But I still live here just the same,
Breathing atomic air, and drinking
Molecular waters, so you see,
How tiny I could be, how tiny
I could get, but this is my
Small happy world, my smile
My laughter so tiny, that you
Cannot hear, you cannot feel,
And that is your world as big
As the sun, with comets and
Meteors, and so big and so
Wide, with oceans and rivers,
And continents, and gigantic
Arctics, and snowy lands, and
We are then so different, and
With me, there is no problem,
I, in my small world, can fit
In yours, but you, you cannot
Fit in mine, that we must
Accept, I am a small world,
And you are a space still expanding,
Now, do you understand,
why I hide?
why I shy away from you?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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This Is My World That Is Your World
This is my world, small as it is,
It is a planet by itself with very
Small moons, and tiny stars,
And so tiny, you cannot just
See me there, I am hiding,
But I still live here just the same,
Breathing atomic air, and drinking
Molecular waters, so you see,
How tiny I could be, how tiny
I could get, but this is my
Small happy world, my smile
My laughter so tiny, that you
Cannot hear, you cannot feel,
And that is your world as big
As the sun, with comets and
Meteors, and so big and so
Wide, with oceans and rivers,
And continents, and gigantic
Arctics, and snowy lands, and
We are then so different, and
With me, there is no problem,
I, in my small world, can fit
In yours, but you, you cannot
Fit in mine, that we must
Accept, I am a small world,
And you are a space still expanding,
Now, do you understand,
why I hide?
why I shy away from you?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Christmas Is A Season...
christmas is a season of the heart,
a time to cherish family and friends;
a time to laugh and hug, or start,
to amplify the joy your prescense sends.
christmas is a season of the heart,
it knows the love that cannot die;
it knows the reasons that we part,
and gladdens, 'tho we know not why.
christmas is a season of the heart,
it shines it's light to all who see;
gifts are heaped upon it's cart,
and we are thrilled, to let it be.
christmas is season full of joy,
with acts of giving at every turn;
a child's eyes shine with it's new toy,
and lessons of love we slowly learn.
christmas is a season of happy sounds,
carols of praise float on the air;
the season of love that knows no bounds,
the season that shows we truly care.
poem by David Lessard
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The Season of Christmas
THE SEASON OF CHRISTMAS
Bright is the season of Christmas
As the snow settles white on the ground.
Frost sparkles rooftops and windows
Icicles dance all around.
Happy, the season of Christmas
As the sounds of good cheer fill the air.
Choirs sing the glad Christmas carols.
Laughter is heard everywhere.
There’s a fire waiting to warm us
As we dash in from the cold.
Trees wanting for tinsel,
Gifts needing bows.
Loving, the season of Christmas
As the folks find a way to be home
Joining the great celebration;
Jesus, the Christ child, is born
poem by Burne White
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The Crooked Ways Of The Tiny Birds 2
feelings are sometimes like the tiny birds
of summer feeding on a few grains
on the wide yards of the garden where the grasses
spread far
some do feel being smothered by the indifference of other
tiny birds
separated by the distance of the long lines of
parallel electric poles
imagine the image of tiny birds sitting in there
looking for pecking
one notices the vastness of the sky
the unfinished climb of the hill
the vanishing paths of trails long untrue
feelings like tiny birds fly away
but there is no reason to be afraid on the
facts of nonreciprocating birds
ah, the world is wide and too interesting
to be ignored
on a few grains one feeds upon
and having satisfied sits lonelier on the line of an electric pole
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Summer's Kiss
Write me a summer song
plant here a warming kiss
seed it in these furrows long
in sunsets' languid dip.
Sing lyrics to my buried soul
which lives beneath
in numbing receded cold.
Sing to me underground
another season's bloom.
See my soul steeled against
against this dying cold abyss.
I shall not die in winter's cold
nor miss this year's summer's kiss
I'll bloom my soul's flower
in garden green-
my petals high sky'ed-
flower flights and butterflies
star dust destines;
all my hopes mingled.
Plant me here then
on ready cheek
just one summer's kiss,
my furrow to bloom
my soul 'neath
will rise fully watered
flowers fully bloomed;
Now start in me another
Hope's Season
even beneath
my winter's frozen
soil.
And here regard
Winter's frozen bloom
kissed by your summer lips
your's planted
upon mine.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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The Season Of Spring
THE SEASON OF SPRING
the season of spring
weather seems to sing
lovely lovely days
are coming our ways
the season of spring
blooming blossoming
of nature of all kind
let roots unbind
the season of spring
birds unfold their wings
diving high into sky
wish one could fly
the season of spring
careful hearts love sting
reaching out towards others
some persons might bother
the season of spring
nice sound bells ring
new wave new style
faces have on a smile
the season of spring
an new awakening
busy humanity on earth
as if it’s a new birth
listen listen to my words
the season of spring is near
now a look into your lovely eyes
and one can see spring is already here
poem by Morhardt Carmen Mencita Monoi Angel
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Irresistible
Seasons come, seasons go
But each season leaves a distinction
For which it is remembered
So once a season came
With a green environment
Rosy plants all around
And I enjoyed the period
Went to the orchard
And picked a flower
That I stayed with long after the season had vanished
But this same flower I had picked
Went with the season
I did not know I could not stay with it
Without its season
Despite all that
There is a wonderful flower I have seen
Which does not vary with seasons
But stays amidst all circumstances and seasons
It has a goon\d name
That every time I mention it
I find myself hungry
Dear sister
Pick the flower too
The all season flower of salvation!
poem by Brian Bwesigye
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The Other End
Shall we agree that just this once
I'm gonna change my life
Until it's just as tiny or important as you like?
And in time we won't even recall that we spoke
Words that turned out to be as big as smoke
As smoke that disappears in the air
There's always something that's smoldering somewhere
I know it don't make a difference to you
But oh! it sure made a difference to me
You'll see me off in the distance, i hope
At the other end
At the other end of the telescope.
The promise of indulgence in my confidential voice
Approached immortal danger but you'll never know how close
Then down the hall i overheard such a heavenly choir
They interrupted my evil designs
One day you are up in the clouds
The next thing you're down with the sweet adelines
(chorus)
Lie down baby now don't say a word
There there baby your vision is blurred
Your head is so sore from all of that thinking
I don't want to hurt you now
But i think you're shrinking
You're half-naked ambition and you're half out of your wits
Or several tiny fractions that this portrait still omits
And it's so hard to pick the receiver up when i call
I never noticed you could be so small
The answer was under your nose but the question never arose
I know it don't make a difference to you
But oh! it sure made a difference to me
'cause late in the evening as i sit here moping
With a bamboo needle on a shellac of chopin
And the cast-iron heart that you failed to tear open
At the other end
At the other end of the telescope
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One tiny sorrow
At the moment of ending
Every lovely meet
One tiny sorrow in my heart
I couldn't kiss that dimple on your cheek
Why every night so beautiful
When the stars twinkle so bright
One tiny sorrow in my heart
Right now, I can't hug you tight
Oh forget these limits
These walls and fences
I feel forgetting this sorrow
And loving you with all my senses
But realizing all the problems
Things we cannot avoid
One tiny sorrow in my heart
Because of which I just cried
I should have been there
As you were always by my side
One tiny sorrow in my heart
Accepting… I wasn't right
I wanna broom away every worry
And bring back the sunshine
One tiny sorrow in the bachelor's heart
Which is asking, “Will you be mine? â€
poem by Abhiraj Rajadhyaksha
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A Chicken Afraid Of The Dark
All night long the dogs would howl,
And in his tiny thumping heart,
Small chicken knew,
That as the icy wind drew closer,
And the nights grew longer,
And the stars seemed to shine less brightely,
That the birds overhead,
And the people all around,
Would be sat around a fire,
Or with their family,
But not small chicken,
He was alone this icy December,
And as the dogs howled,
His tiny stomach yowled,
And the night echoed back.
poem by Nick Hilton
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Ode to winter
Ode to winter
~
Ode, ode to the winter
What music plays to sonnet
While a world drifts to sleep
Leaves curl and flowers bow
Birds take flight to a further place
A touch of frost creeps in
Stealing the landscape of its colour
Soon all shall be held motionless
In the still of a winters season
Now in all its changing
The beauty and perfection of life
Is left open to be witnessed
Savoured by the eye of an artist
To feed the soul, nourish the heart
This melancholy season
This changing landscape
What beauty it reveals
In an ode to the winter
poem by Matthew Holloway
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I Started A Revolution Today
i started a revolution today,
when i walked out the door.
ants lined up in full gear,
trees refused to shed their leaves.
smoke swallowed the chimney,
and cats laid down with squirrels.
and every ray of sunlight,
praised the coming night.
small children read to old people,
and bricks swayed to the beating heart.
tiny things became heroes,
and simple things became gods.
gentle words held road signs,
hobos shared their bowls of stew...
rain buried gifts in stillness,
for the awakened and those who long!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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