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White Rabbits

I hopped around my whole life
Made a white rabbit my lovely wife to be.

Her tail was cottony soft
My tale was a lie so you see,

That hoppy women go on with their life
But men like myself are still free.

.

poem by John Shea
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White Angel the Easter Rabbit

Out of a lovely fantasy…..,
She appeared one Springtime day…..,
And made our world……,
So happy in every way……,
It was a vision so wondrous……,
As we colored our eggs…..,
For the Easter Holiday

White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,
Brought sunshine to our lives…..,
When it came to joy we had it…..,
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,

She’d hop, hop, hop….,
All day long…..,
Be dancin’ around……,
And singin’ a song…..,
As Easter came so merrily…..,
She was so much fun for us to see……,

White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,
Brought sunshine to our lives…..,
Lovin’ her was a tireless habit……,
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,

But poof just like each night and day……,
Her visit soon had to end …..,
So she hop, hop, hopped on her way……,
Off to visit her fairytale friends……,
As we sadly bid farewell to her…….,
She said, “Come on now, don’t cry…..,
I’ll be back again some Easter Day”…..,

White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,
Brought sunshine to our lives…..,
When it came to joy we had it…..,
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,
Pure white gold in 24 karat…..,
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit….! ! !

(2011)

poem by Trade Martin
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Tickle

something is so tickling on my
abs,
furry, soft, like a rabbit's tail
but it is not
white

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Trip

Like an unripe melon
Like a conquer Magellan
Like a handy capped Helen Keller
There is a moonster in the cellar
He has been there since last November
I was once a member-
Of his palace
Until I was hit in the head with a mallet

Creeping along the halls
I have spotted the moonster in conversation with the white rabbit
Me thinks that white rabbit has a nasty habit-
Of being late
Last time they nearly locked the gate
Is his clock too slow?
Or is telling time his foe?
At least the moonster and purple tiger know

Acid is a trip that is not a trick for kids
But the rabbits white hair show great age
Maybe his mind is like that of a mage
I saw him once pull himself out of his own hat
Very impress for a magician with a assistant gnat
He buzzes around the rabbit’s head, a dark shade of blue
The rabbit does not reek, I have seen him use his wife’s shampoo

If I may take the time
I must say for a rabbit his wife is a dime
I even saw her and purple tiger in the shower at the same time
Of course the white rabbit was too late to catch them of this crime
Just then I told the purple tiger not to eat the white rabbit or the Chinese Girl
“She is your world! ”
You just don’t know it and she will not show it
So he devoured the loaf of bread instead

poem by Vincent Dali
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Country Woman

Country women now, what you gonna do with your life
Country women now, why dont you get out of this life
Leave my life alone
The first time I met you I knew you were the devils daughter
You came on like a river , doin all the things you oughta
Youre a self made women ,baby, not a made-to-order
If you had your way , I know youd make me stay
And that would only bring me down
Country women now, what you gonna do with your life
Country women now, why dont you get out of this life
Leave my life alone
(break)
Country women , country women ,country women
Country women, country women , ahh....
Country women now, what you gonna do with your life
Country women now, why dont you get out of this life
Leave my life alone
Leave my life alone
Country women now , country women now, country women now,
Country women now , country women now, country women now, (fade)

song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little White Rabbit

While sorting through a drawer
in my old treasure store
I came across a little white rabbit
almost forgotten there,
as I picked it up
my memory danced back
to the person who gave it
to me forty odd years ago.
I could remember her blue eyes,
her shoulder length blonde hair,
and that gentle smile of this lady fair.
She was at one time the love of my life,
long before I met my wife.
My love could not be returned
as she was seeing someone else,
but a friend she was,
and a friend she will always remain,
until my dying breath.
As I look at the little white rabbit,
dreamy eyes I become,
I drift back all those years,
and for a brief second or two.
I smile to myself,
and wrap the little white rabbit up,
putting it back in the drawer,
so I can remember,
that lost long distant love I had once more.

poem by David Harris
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Thought

Life on the beach
My life out of reach
Going just one step further

Sipping on rum
With a good looking nun
What a dream that was.

Living like a frog
Like a hoppy dog
damn, that was fun.

Giving to the poor
And then giving some more
It made me feel humble.

Seeing the emaciated faces
That substinace soon erases
It made me cry.

Going just one step further
Being your fellow mans server
It made me high.

poem by John Shea
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Winter's Approach

DE sun hit shine an' de win' hit blow,
Ol' Brer Rabbit be a-layin' low,
He know dat de wintah time a-comin',
De huntah man he walk an' wait,
He walk right by Brer Rabbit's gate —
He know —
De dog he lick his sliverin' chop,
An' he tongue 'gin' his mouf go flop, flop—
He —
He rub his nose fu' to clah his scent
So's to tell w'ich way dat cotton-tail went,
He —
De huntah's wife she set an' spin
A good wahm coat fu' to wrop him in
She —
She look at de skillet an' she smile, oh my!
An' ol' Brer Rabbit got to sholy fly.

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Isnt She Lovely

Isnt she lovely
Isnt she wonderfull
Isnt she precious
Less than one minute old
I never thought through love wed be
Making one as lovely as she
But isnt she lovely made from love
Isnt she pretty
Truly the angels best
Boy, Im so happy
We have been heaven blessed
I cant believe what God has done
Through us hes given life to one
But isnt she lovely made from love
Isnt she lovely
Life and love are the same
Life is aisha
The meaning of her name
Londie, it could have not been done
Without you who conceived the one
Thats so very lovely made from love

song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love's Colors

Love's colors are not all just black and white
The color of love, different to all
The prism of color is best in fall
They can be seen even in the dark night
See what you wish, red, pink, yellow or grey
Bask in its light, it will make you quite warm
It comes in all shapes and takes any form
Choose one you love best, and ask it to stay
Love's color is soft violet to me
I've only seen it twice in my long life
It's the soft color I see around thee
Both times I made that color my dear wife
I'm alone again and I do feel free
I cut out love's colors, and stopped the strife

Petrarchan Sonnet

poem by J.B. LeBuert
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My Other Chinee Cook

Yes, I got another Johnny; but he was to Number One
As a Satyr to Hyperion, as a rushlight to the sun;
He was lazy, he was cheeky, he was dirty, he was sly,
But he had a single virtue, and its name was rabbit pie.

Now those who say the bush is dull are not so far astray,
For the neutral tints of station life are anything but gay;
But, with all its uneventfulness, I solemnly deny
That the bush is unendurable along with rabbit pie.

We had fixed one day to sack him, and agreed to moot the point
When my lad should bring our usual regale of cindered joint,
But instead of cindered joint we saw and smelt, my wife and I,
Such a lovely, such a beautiful, oh! such a rabbit pie!

There was quite a new expression on his lemon-coloured face,
And the unexpected odour won him temporary grace,
For we tacitly postponed the sacking-point till by-and bye,
And we tacitly said nothing save the one word, “rabbit pie!”

I had learned that pleasant mystery should simply be endured,
And forebore to ask of Johnny where the rabbits were procured!
I had learned from Number One to stand aloof from how and why,
And I threw myself upon the simple fact of rabbit pie.

And when the pie was opened, what a picture did we see!
They lay in beauty side by side, they filled our home with glee!
How excellent, how succulent, back, neck, and leg, and thigh!
What a noble gift is manhood! What a trust is rabbit pie!

For a week the thing continued, rabbit pie from day to day;
Though where he got the rabbits John would ne'er vouchsafe to say;
But we never seemed to tire of them, and daily could descry
Subtle shades of new delight in each successive rabbit pie.

Sunday came; by rabbit reckoning, the seventh day of the week;
We had dined, we sat in silence, both our hearts (?) too full to speak,
When in walks Cousin George, and, with a sniff, says he, “Oh my!
What a savoury suggestion! what a smell of rabbit pie!”
“Oh, why so late, George?” says my wife, “the rabbit pie is gone;
But you must have one for tea, though. Ring the bell, my dear, for John.”
So I rang the bell for John, to whom my wife did signify,
“Let us have an early tea, John, and another rabbit pie.”

But John seemed taken quite aback, and shook his funny head,
And uttered words I comprehended no more than the dead;

“Go, do as you are bid,” I cried, “we wait for no reply;
Go! let us have tea early, and another rabbit pie!”

Oh, that I had stopped his answer! But it came out with a run:
“Last-a week-a plenty puppy; this-a week-a puppy done!”
Just then my wife, my love, my life, the apple of mine eye,
Was seized with what seemed “mal-de-mer,” — “sick transit” rabbit pie!

And George! By George, he laughed, and then he howled like any bear!
The while my wife contorted like a mad “convulsionnaire;”
And I—I rushed on Johnny, and I smote him hip and thigh,
And I never saw him more, nor tasted more of rabbit pie.

And the childless mothers met me, as I kicked him from the door,
With loud maternal wailings and anathemas galore;
I must part with pretty Tiny, I must part with little Fly,
For I'm sure they know the story of the so-called “rabbit pie.”

poem by James Brunton Stephens
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Free River

Free River flow, Free River
so cold, Free River
you’re getting old.

Free River don’t cry, Free River
you’ve run dry.
I still see you through my youth’s eyes.

Free River you told no lies, Free River
your path has been made, Free River
all things change.

Free River you made it to the sea.
The friends I swam with once
are now gone, left only me.

Free River you’re worth more than gold, Free River
I've grown old.
I’ve lived by you my whole life and

I’ve left my seed through my wife, Free River
I lie at your shore; now dry,
Free River it’s my time to die.

poem by Patrick Dumas
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Red Pupils And A Pretty Face

Red pupils and,
a pink iris
hands so soft
and yellowing at the end
pink lips
white face
little hips
as white as lace
a soft kiss
and a subtle race

poem by Rez rabbit
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Sad Lady

in her world her tears
are pearls
her cries are songs
of the beautiful women
her loneliness is a bed
of soft parakeet feathers
the oppression
day by day is a way of life
her hands are the ears
of a rabbit
they have learned to
listen
her lips are tight buds
and had always forgotten
how it is
to bloom

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Performance and Stamina

Cool with life and free of superstitions,
Four leaf clovers, rabbit feet...
And free flights of fancy.

She said I had 'captured wisdom' in my eyes.
As she turned down my request for a date,
To ask if I knew her grandfather!
It just so happened I did.
When we both were kids.

Cool with life and free of superstitions
Four leaf clovers, rabbit feet...
And free flights of fancy.
Most of the times.

People say I shouldn't admit to being 60.
That I should say to everyone I'm 45!
I feel so blessed I'd confess anything to who I meet.
Rejecting me because of my age,
Is such a foolish thing!

'Rejecting me because of my age,
Is such a foolish thing! '

After much practice...
I'd say that to someone.
Only to hear the other one say,
What they want, how they do it
With expectations along the way!
Preferences and club hangouts.
Using cellphones to give a brief shout out!
And lapses of memory in mid sentence.
Asking then again what I said.
And, 'What was that age you mentioned?
I'm sorry I wasn't paying you any attention! '

Cool with life and free of superstitions,
Four leaf clovers, rabbit feet...
And free flights of fancy.

And if you actually believe that...
You too suffer from 'captured wisdom'!
Have a cup of tea
And recall all of those memories you had...
Trapping that captured 'stuff'.
Remember it well.
Being interviewed for performance and stamina,
Was not the issue then!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Butterfly Flutterby

The butterfly was young
Her vibrant wings of delicate lace
Such grace such poise
A hcarming butterfly
The cricket was slick thicket
Moving quick but swift
Yet smart somewhat wise
Proud of his chirp
Hopping through the grass
Butterfly fluttered by till upon a rose
Spreading her wings a dainty show
Slowly sipping sweet
Hopping skipping
Cricket saw
Butterfly glanced
The cricket saw butterfly
The butterfly looked yonder
Cricket hopped and chirped
A jumpety crickety song
Butterfly sighed
And rolled her eyes
Cricket hopped closer
Butterfly laughed
Silly cricket trying hard
Butterfly cared less
Poor cricket hopped and hopped
Butterfly sipping nectar sweet
Cricket sang sonfter sweeter
Butterfly stopped
A song so sweet
Too lovely than nectar
Cricket hopped upon a rose
Butterfly jumped
Almost to fly away
Cricket song too lovely to fly away
Butterfly in a trance
Fluttering her wings lovely
Too charming
Too tempting
Crickect sang
Butterfly in a spell
Too late to break
Lovers forever
Strange couple though
Yet lovely
Yet happy
Suave cricket, Princess Butterfly
Flutterby, flutterby.......

poem by Bella Ravenstar
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I Do

Well I've gone steady with a-lots of girls
And to all of them I tried to be true
But I'm so glad I never promised them
What I promised you
And that's I do (I do, yes I do)
Take you (take you, I'll take you)
For my wife (for my, for my wife)
For the rest of my life (ah yes the rest of my life)
Well I heard from my folks
Time and time again
To make sure that I found the right one
And every time you meet
Your heart will beat
And you'll want to say
You'll say I do (I do, yes I do)
Take you (take you, I'll take you)
For my wife (for my, for my wife)
For the rest of my life (ah yes the rest of my life now)
Oh yes I do (I do, yes I do)
Take you (take you, I'll take you)
For my wife (for my, for my wife)
For the rest of my life (ah yes the rest of my life now)
Ah ha ha I do (I do, yes I do)
Take you (take you, I'll take you)
For my wife (for my, for my wife)
For the rest of my life (ah yes the rest of my life now)
Ah ha ha I do (I do, yes I do)
Take you (take you, I'll take you)
For my wife (for my, for my wife)
For the rest of my life (ah yes the rest of my life now)
Ah ha yes I do (I do, yes I do)
Take you (take you, I'll take you)
For my wife (for my, for my wife)
For the rest of my life

song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Men Are Made For Women

The life runs on two tracks
both needs to be parallel
the difference of a thread
makes the life to be out track
and leaves a ruin behind.

But believe in me
men are made for women
men are made for safety and security
for women, to fulfill their all needs
the existence of this world is
only with the love of women

Men betray at every stage
but women betray very often
that so they maintain to run the life
on the parallel track of life.

poem by Ramesh Rai
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Made Me A Man

As I work with the sweat upon my brow
As so to support my family my wife and child
I do for them, all that I can,
As GOD, he made me a man.

I Protect all which is mine and what I own
Which includes my possessions and also my home
At my wife’s side I will always stand
As GOD, he made me a man

I will never ever lie or cheat or steal
Never hurt anyone when instead I could heal
As I know what is in my greater plan
As GOD, he made me a man.

I will never ever start a war or even a fight
Whether I be wrong and they be right
I will talk with them, until we both understand
As GOD, he made me a man.

I will not break the vows I made to my wife
No matter the problems or even the rife
I know years from now in front of GOD I will stand
As GOD, he made me a man.

A soul and a life GOD he gave me
He showed me the roads and told me to be free
I gave up being a boy from worries I had not ran
As GOD, he made me a man.

As I say my prayers alone at night
I humble myself to the Lord and his might
I know that GOD, he made me a Man
But I am the one, who made me who I am.

poem by Randy McClave
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A View Of This Place That I Remember

the back space of this house
used to be a green ricefield
and there was that tall mango tree
where i used to sit underneath
shading me from the scourging sun
i always remember
the view
of the carabaos grazing
with white herons standing on their back
and blue cottony clouds drifting above

the place is now cemented
with a wall as high as three men added-up
high buildings rise from here
reaching the cottony clouds out there

and the river is no longer a hype
but a big silent hard steel pipe.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Living in a Fairy Tale

Living in a fairy
tale....
Oh, how I wish my
life could be like that.

How I want a
ending like happily
ever after...
Living in a castle with
my prince...

Having a magic
mirror...
That talks to you.

Seeing ogres in the
swamp....it is not
a pretty sight.
But oh well....

Oh...how I wish
I was living in a
fairy tale.

There would be no
rules...no parents
telling you what to
do...
Doing whatever you
want...

And life would be
LOVELY!

How I wish I was
living in a fairy tale!

poem by Lisa Parks
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