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Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: XI

Beyond her sat a second monster. She
In shape and sense was undisguisedly real,
An ox--eyed queen of full--fed majesty
And giant height and comeliness ideal.
She too her tale related, as was due,
In measured tones, her age, her birth, her name,
Bourgeois her parents, friends of order too,
And good Imperialists of honest fame,
Her age eighteen, her height seven feet, her waist
An ell and more in its circumference,
Her leg above the knee, and where was placed
Its point of full development. . . The sense
Of the rest I lost, for laughing half aloud
Again a woman touched me in the crowd.

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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A Full Figured Woman.....

A full figured woman
who is full of love
a woman who tries to fit in
and tries to show emotion
but can never do none of the above.

A full figured woman
who is full of peace
but no man wants to touch her
as if she's some type of disease.

A full figured woman
who puts her self down
who smiles in the crowd
who hurts her sense of worth
when no one's around.

A full figured woman
yes, thats me
i am all the woman i need to be
from the curl of my lips
to the curves in my hips.

Yes, i am a full figured woman
who is tired of being judged
but i will never be ashamed
for having more than one pudge!

poem by Jennifer Foreman
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It's Only Our Shell

(10/1/12)

She was a big boned woman without an ounce of fat
But for her height and stature, she was much more than that.
She was a queen - a goddess of height and might
And for her love I would surely fight.

Her height and physique would put fear
In other women from the start
But she had the most kind and gentlest heart.

Why does height and build stop us from seeing
Ones true self.
It's only a body - it's only a shell.

The inside of that giant or dwarf
May be as big or as small as you
And going thru your same things too.

"So remember" - our bodies are just an outer shell
The only place our hearts can dwell.

© L. RAMS

poem by Louis Rams
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A Tale Of Winter

A Tale Of Winter
my wings of ice
flutter twice
the snow yet so white
my gleaming sun hovering at great height
silver birds gliding gently
icy snow flakes falling silently
my giant wings of frost
a frozen pond that once was lost
frozen plants shining in the sun
snow balls flying, oh what fun
a giant snowman standing in the wood
children playing like good friends should
a coal fire burning bright
a red robin about to take flight
my new sledge with only one splinter
i will never forget my beautiful tale of winter

poem by James Chaplin
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I Want A Monster To Be My Friend

Some kids just love
To play with dolls
Or put on funny hats
And some make pets
Of birds and fish
And dogs and
Alley cats
That's not the way
I like to play
I'm tired of all these
I need a very
Special friend
Won't you
Help me please?
I want a monster
To be my playmate
I want a monster
To be my friend
I want to get
For my own pet
A real live monster
Who's not pretend
Oh, I want a monster
To be my playmate
We'd soon become
Good friends because
Although they're hairy
And sometimes scary
They have such soft
And furry paws
If I make friends with
A friendly monster
I'd be the best that a
friend could be
I'd let him do
Whatever he wants to
And he'd always
Belong to me
So, if you know a
Nice old monster
If you've a monster
To recommend
Ooh, golly gee
Please send him to me
I just can't wait
Until then!
I want a monster
A real live monster
I want a monster
Send me my monster
I want a monster
A real live monster
I want a monster
Send my monster
I want a monster
A real live monster
I want a monster
To be my friend!
Oh please
Send my monster
Does anybody have
A monster out there
I'll take a
Secondhand monster
He doesn't have
To be new

song performed by by En Vogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Classic nineteenth century European imperialists believed they were literally on a mission. I don't believe that the imperialists these days have that same sense of public service. They are simply pirates.

quote by John Pilger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: XV

Thus it began with laughter. But anon
The ox--eyed queen, who had resumed by rote
The tale of her perfections one by one,
Turned by some ominous chance towards the spot
Where we two stood. ``And take good note,'' said she,
``All here is honest beauty, flesh and blood,
As any in the world. Yet, if there be
A doubt between you, let me make it good.
Which of you two will honour me so near
As to prove the truth?'' My cheeks in spite of me
Flamed in the dark, and I was seized with fear
And a wild doubt lest mine the choice should be.
The little woman on the chair began
To shout aloud and bid me play the man.

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Half Blooded Brothers

You my blood half or full were brothers, regardless of what you do to each other, you my brother half or full, .

We keep each other good, you my brother half or full. We take care of each other, because we brothers half or full.

Imma stop trippin, it'll take a while, because im use to bullshittin and prickin, but you my brother half or full.

Stick together we will stay alive, all the bullshit I said, I've been a asshole, shit who hasn't, but you my brother half or full and I guess that's what family does.

Arguments and verbal brutality towards one another is what we do, because we will always be brothers half or full. Blood half or full, it doesn't matter, because we are brothers till the end of time, your my brother half or full.

poem by Arthur V. Miller III
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The Cosmic Plan

As Infinity stretches to twilight
Worlds go flashing by our sight
We are just on planet Earth
Stars that twinkle in the night
Laughing at our ridiculous plight
The trauma of our birth

And as we became a man
There was no guidance of a hand
We gained in weight and height
Slowly we began to understand
The universal plan
Was a turning to the light

We are creatures of the universe
There is no last: there is no first
Just what the father had planned
There's the miracle of death and birth
Plus your sense of private worth
And the brotherhood of man

poem by Tim Pearson
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Plus Intra

Soul within sense, immeasurable, obscure,
Insepulchred and deathless, through the dense
Deep elements may scarce be felt as pure
Soul within sense.

From depth and height by measurers left immense,
Through sound and shape and colour, comes the unsure
Vague utterance, fitful with supreme suspense.

All that may pass, and all that must endure,
Song speaks not, painting shews not: more intense
And keen than these, art wakes with music's lure
Soul within sense.

poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Sestina

I wandered o'er the vast green plains of youth,
And searched for Pleasure. On a distant height
Fame's silhouette stood sharp against the skies.
Beyond vast crowds that thronged a broad highway
I caught the glimmer of a golden goal,
While from a blooming bower smiled siren Love.

Straight gazing in her eyes, I laughed at Love,
With all the haughty insolence of youth,
As past her bower I strode to seek my goal.
'Now will I climb to glory's dizzy height, '
I said, ' for there above the common way
Doth pleasure dwell companioned by the skies.'

But when I reached that summit near the skies,
So far from man I seemed, so far from Love-
'Not here, ' I cried, 'doth Pleasure find her way, '
Seen from the distant borderland of youth.
Fame smiles upon us from her sun-kissed height,
But frowns in shadows when we reach the goal.

Then were mine eyes fixed on that glittering goal,
Dear to all sense-sunk souls beneath the skies.
Gold tempts the artist from the lofty height,
Gold lures the maiden from the arms of Love,
Gold buys the fresh ingenuous heart of youth,
'And gold, ' I said, 'will show me Pleasure's way.'

But ah! the soil and discord of that way,
Where savage hordes rushed headlong to the goal,
Dead to the best impulses of their youth,
Blind to the azure beauty of the skies;
Dulled to the voice of conscience and of love,
They wandered far from Truth's eternal height.

Then Truth spoke to me from that noble height,
Saying: 'Thou didst pass Pleasure on the way,
She with the yearning eyes so full of Love,
Whom thou disdained to seek for glory's goal.'
Two blending paths beneath God's arching skies
Lead straight to Pleasure. Ah, blind heart of youth,
Not up fame's height, not toward the base god's goal,
Doth Pleasure make her way, but 'neath calm skies
Where Duty walks with Love in endless youth.

poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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I lost

It started out real slowly
A few simple hyms and haws
I changed them just to suit you
But then I lost it all.

I lost the way I used to laugh
At times quite dumb and silly.
I lost the way I used to think
Of life in a big city.

I lost my sense of independence
Which I once held so strong
I lost my sense of humor
Ever since you came along.

I lost my sense of flair
That made me shine so bright.
I even lost my favorite Bear
That I used to hold so tight.

But worst of all
I lost me sense
of being who I am

And so tonight
I take it back
No matter what you care
For its not right
To lose so much
Just to gain dispair.

poem by Catherine Raymond
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A Simile

What village but has sometimes seen
The clumsy shape, the frightful mien,
Tremendous claws, and shagged hair
Of that grim brute yclept a bear?
He from his dam the learn'd agree,
Received the curious form you see;
Who with her plastic tongue alone,
Produced a visage-like her own-
And thus they hint, in mystic fashion,
The powerful force of education.
Perhaps yon crowd of swains is viewing,
Even now, the strange exploits of Bruin,
Who plays his antics, roars aloud,
The wonder of a gaping crowd!
So have I known an awkward lad,
Whose birth has made a parish glad,
Forbid, for fear of sense, to roam,
And taught by kind mamma at home,
Who gives him many a well-tried rule,
With ways and means-to play the fool.
In sense the same, in stature higher,
He shines, ere long, a rural squire,
Pours forth unwitty jokes, and swears,
And bawls, and drinks, but chiefly stares:
His tenants of superior sense
Carouse, and laugh, at his expense,
And deem the pastime I'm relating
To be as pleasant as bear-baiting.

poem by William Shenstone
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Queen

Head strong and steadfast junkies
All barter for the clean
They all wait in their plastic lines
To find what color means

Cause they all wanna be queen
And you do know what I mean
Cause they all wanna be queen
And you do know what I mean

I spoke to a girl by the backdoor
She said she'd do anything just to meet you
You know I've seen that smile before
Just in time for a knee to hit the ground
Little girls
Dressed up like French whores
In velvet paintings
Wide eyed
Long nails
They all wanna live the fairy tale

(Chorus)

Did they tear you all up inside
Did they take away your pride
and she cried herself to sleep that night

Cause they all wanna be queen
And you do know what I mean
Cause they all wanna be queen
And you do And you do And you do
know what I mean
Queen wanna be queen
Queen wanna be queen
Queen wanna be queen
Queen wanna be queen

song performed by by Tonic from Sugar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Baby Mermaid Majesty

There’s a brown eyed mermaid
who lives deep in the sea,
she is a baby who is only three.
Her best friend’s name is Melodie.
Now Melodie has a surprise for her,
It’s a wig with lots of curls.
Colorful curls that glow in the dark,
same color as a costume shaped like a shark
Majesty will have a party by the lagoon,
Majesty will turn age four real soon,
Brown eyed Majesty will invite her friends,
her friends Melodie, Sarah, Opal and Pelican.
Majesty will receive many gifts,
Pelican will hold gifts in his beak,
dropping presents that are really neat.
Down to shore where they will meet,
Light birthday candle is a special treat.
For UniCandle unicorn will be there,
He has a crystal horn and mane of white hair.
Majesty’s birthday wishes will come true,
UniCandle’s horn is magically through and through.
Majesty knows that the gift from Melodie is the best,
it is special not like the rest.
Majesty will wear the shark costume and wig of curls,
swimming in the ocean like a baby shark girl.

(By Suzae Chevalier May 29,2011)
www.puppetpoems.com www.purplepoems.com

poem by Christina Sunrise
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Joking

You said the world was magic
I was wide-eyed and laughing
We were dancing up to the bright side
Forget about your ego
Forget about your pride
And you will never have to compromise
And you were only joking
You were only joking brother
We talked about our mothers
Kissed the wounds of our fathers
I could have been your sister
I would have been your brother
You kissed me like I was a soldier
Headed for a war
I dying man but I dont know what for
And you were only joking
You were only joking brother
You were only joking
(wide-eyed and laughing)
You were only joking brother
(dancing up to the bright side)
Gravel and glass on the bottom of my feet
I bruised my heels on the swollen street
We were girls in bars
Boys on the town
Bumping like a pinball off a careless crowd
You said good friends are hard to come by
I laughed and bought you a beer
Its too corny to cry
Well sentiment given
Oh sentiment lost
You shake it off with a smirk and a toss
And you were only joking
You were only joking brother
You were only joking
Were only joking brother
And you were only joking
(gravel and glass on the bottom of my feet)
You were only joking brother
(I bruised my heels on the swollen street)
You kissed me like a soldier heading for a war
(joking)
Im a dying man
(you were only joking)
And you were only joking
(dont know what for)
(dying man)
You were only joking brother
(dont know what for)
And you were only
And you were only
And you were only joking
Brother
One two three four
Ah yeah
Sha la
Sha la
Sha la
Sha la
Sha la
(wide eyed and laughing)
Sha la
(dancing up to the bright side)
Sha la
(wide eyed and laughing)
Sha la
(dancing up to the bright side)

song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A World Apart And Distances Growing.

A world apart and distances growing.
What have I got to do to stop you in your path?
What have I got to do to stop you from laughing in my face?
Laughing at the faith I wear upon my sleeve.

Make believe, fairy tale wisdoms extinct.
Romance is dead, the rose withered,
The green eyed monster rears its ugly head.

Distance yourself from the past,
If you remember the good times,
You’ll recall, well, they were too good to last

Drifting, kiss me, lift me up man, and give me a little push,
Set me on my way,

Spit it out
All you have to say.

poem by David Lacey
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The Measure Of Men

what is the measure of one man
is it the measure of one's strength
I think not
is it the measure of one's stature such as height
I don't think so
is it how wealthy one is
not even close
or is it how much power one possesses over another
not impressive
can a measure of a man be measured with a yardstick
well it can but that park doesn't show he's a man

the tolerance of a man for another man hitting him
can be measured with a ruler
the tolerance of a man for another man attacking his country
can be measured with a grain of salt
the tolerance of a man for another man hitting the one's he loves
now that can only be measured within a whisper

you can only measure a individual man or woman
with how big their heart is and
what qualities lie within that heart
such as dignity for what he works for
such as a stable household for his famly
compassion for people in need
the understanding of what's right and what's wrong
the pride of not what he has done but what
his wife and child has done
the sweat
the blood
and the tears he spars
to keep his marriage from falling apart

once you find a way to measure those things then
and only then will you be able to say
that is
because that is certainly
the real measure of all men

poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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Full Attention

The tiger took his merry time
Wading in the water...
Why shouldn't he? It felt sublime,
Perfectly in order...

So he went up and he went down
And he went left and right
And though each stripe looked like a frown,
His joy was at its height...

This is the life, he seemed to say,
Nothing else quite like it!
No hurry to be on his way,
In truth, he must admit!

Up to his neck in Shangri-La,
Nirvana, Heaven, peace...
It wasn't likely he'd go far,
When he could take his ease.

Did it have his full attention?
Yes, he felt comfy there...
Had he lost all apprehension?
He didn't have a care!

No point in leaving for a while...
So he felt mighty glad...
If anything can make you smile,
Like him, get stuck in, lad...

Denis Martindale, copyright, July 2010.

The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Full Attention'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot.com

poem by Denis Martindale
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Orange blossoms on a tree

Orange blossoms on a tree
catches my eye,
where it stands alone
in the inner city
and there’s a blinding bright sun
that is already hanging quarter height
in a cloudless sky.

It’s Wednesday and half week
and it’s spring with green leaves,
trees full of blossoms
and almost summer
because the sun’s bright rays
are already early hitting my eyes

There’s a woman with a pink blouse
and purple skirt,
that crosses the street
and are not looking out
for the oncoming cars and taxis.

Doves crowd around a man
that throws pieces of bread
on the ground next to him,
at the art museum
and the sun is now rather
bright white than red.

poem by Gert Strydom
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The Miniature Woman

The Blue-Eyed Giant, the Miniature Woman
and the Honeysuckle

He was a blue-eyed giant,
He loved a miniature woman.
The woman's dream was of a miniature house
with a garden where honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
that sort of house.

The giant loved like a giant,
and his hands were used to such big things
that the giant could not
make the building,
could not knock on the door
of the garden where the honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
at that house.

He was a blue-eyed giant,
he loved a miniature woman,
a mini miniature woman.
The woman was hungry for comfort
and tired of the giant's long strides.
And bye bye off she went to the embraces of a rich dwarf with a garden where the honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
that sort of house.

Now the blue-eyed giant realizes,
a giant isn't even a graveyard for love:
in the garden where the honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
that sort of house...

poem by Nazim Hikmet
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