In a Poet's Eye
is the reflection
the image of a ghost
haunted by life
love-lorn romantic
the heart cut open
exposed
the flesh peeled away
in layers
words fall
drifting silently
the sad and bitter tears
of a lost embrace…
(Previously published in Bardo Burner, Jan 2000, no.12)
poem by Laurence Overmire
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You Know, The Reflection You Don't Recognize
You know
its kind of weird
when you look
in the mirror
and cant decide
exactly who
you are really
looking at
You know
its kinda stupid
when you fall
to your knees
and pray
to a god
that you don't
even believe in
You know
its kinda rude
when someone says
that you've changed
into something
that isn't what
they want to
see anymore
and this is why
i'm standing here
in front of this
tainted mirror
thinking that
maybe there is
some truth
in their words
You know
what i mean
to say when
i try to explain
that i have
lost my image
in this reflection
that i see
You know
how it feels
to collapse to
a world that
engulfs you
into thinking that
you are not
what they wanted
You know
what its like
to feel defeated
day to day
by the little words
people say
that distort the
image in the mirror
and then i ask
do you know
how it feels
to stand and
see the reflection
of someone
that you don't
recognize in
a mirror of nothing
but yourself
poem by Audrey Marie Kay
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The Convention
There was a convention
Of hypocrites
That convened in redundant
Adulation
But he was not invited
The man of the Daring Deuce.
They spouted their
Aspersions
Redeemed their
Aspirations
Towering mediocrity
To dwarf the voice
That shatters glass
And mingles with
The blood of Earth.
No, he was not invited
But conveniently
Exposed
To ridicule
Behind his back
They laughed.
How clever their
Indignity
How infinite their
Reach
To touch the stars
One need only
Lower
The sky.
(Previously published in The Courtship of Winds, Issue 1, January 2000)
poem by Laurence Overmire
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Blows to the Head
the rules were laid
inside his head
in block cement
we had to take a hammer
to his skull
to break the hardening
of thought and mind
set free the demons
of his passion
allow
the precious seed
of wisdom
to sprout
in fingers
of his art
a becoming of
rare significance
too great to be ignored.
(Previously published in Poetic License, July 2000; Poetry Soul To Soul, Oct.2000)
poem by Laurence Overmire
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The Haunted
I sleep, I wake, just same.
Haunted.
Tears don't work.
Pain won't go.
Haunted.
Maybe its here to stay.
My bag of rocks.
Haunted.
No great purpose.
Just be my load.
Haunted.
To hold me back.
This heavy sack.
Haunted.
I wake today. Maybe time to pray.
Haunted.
This curse must go.
Hit lowest low.
Haunted.
Nightmare of my soul.
My mind. My heart
My entire being.
Haunted.
Haunted. Haunted. Haunted.
I am
The walking. The crawling. The waiting. The moving. The wailing.
The death defying.
I am
The Haunted.
poem by Lindsay Maasdorp
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Poisoned Apples
Tenth grade teacher, a Mr. Suchandso
slashed a C minus across her very first poem
ashamed to be qualified as less than mediocre
it was many years before she dared compose another
and, indeed, may never have
(a loss the world might long regret)
but for an insistent voice within her that
refused to succumb to
the unwitting cruelty of a witless pedagogue
who should have known better.
(Previously published in Spilled Ink, July 2000; Stroll of Poets Society, July 2000)
poem by Laurence Overmire
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A Romantic Life Adventure!
Sentimental, emotional, great characters love romantic life;
Passionate, engaged and attached they like to live long life;
Fun, entertainment and amusements they have in romance;
Romantic love life these human beings live true to heart ever!
Longing for love they do all to get the hand of sweet heart;
Love, marriages and divorces and love again they try ever!
For the satisfaction of the self they do romance forever here
And live alone ever in life longing for love till the end comes.
Romantic fellows lament about the friends and loves lost in life;
Beginning, middle and end the means followed never the same
Because adventure is the spice and taste of romantic life here;
Many yet live romantic life because the pleasure is exotic ever!
A romantic life is the dream of many a guy and girl since long
Though success is rare failures they are ready to face and die!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Reflections
Writers: brian holland, lamont dozier & eddie holland
Through the hollow of my tears
I see a dream thats lost
From the hurt, ooh, that you have caused
Through the mirror of my mind
Time after time I see reflections of you and me
Reflections of
The way life used to be
Reflections of
The love you took from me
Im all alone now, no love to shield me
Back to the world of that stops at reality
Oh that happiness, ah you took from me
And you left me with only memories
Through the mirror of my mind
Through all these tears Im cryin
Reflects the hurt I cant control
cause though youre gone
I keep holdin on
Through the happy times
When you were mine
As I peer through the window of lost time
Thinkin over my yesterdays
All the love I had in vain
All the love I have wasted
All the tears I have tasted, uh-huh
Through the hollow of my tears
I see a dream thats lost
From the hurt, ooh, you have caused
Evrywhere I turn, evrything I see
Reflects the love that used to be
In you I put all my love
My faith and trust
And right before my eyes
My world has turned to dust
At drop of night I sat alone and wept
Just a handful of promises
All thats left of lovin you -- whoo
Ya got the reflection
Ya got the reflection
Ya got the reflection
The way I used to be
Ya got the reflection
Ya got the reflection
Ya got the reflection
Ya got the reflection
song performed by by Leo Sayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Romantic Life Adventure!
Sentimental, emotional, great characters love romantic life;
Passionate, engaged and attached they like to live long life;
Fun, entertainment and amusements they have in romance;
Romantic love life these human beings live true to heart ever!
Longing for love they do all to get the hand of sweet heart;
Love, marriages and divorces and love again they try ever!
For the satisfaction of the self they do romance forever here
And live alone ever in life longing for love till the end comes.
Romantic fellows lament about the friends and loves lost in life;
Beginning, middle and end the means followed never the same
Because adventure is the spice and taste of romantic life here;
Many yet live romantic life because the pleasure is exotic ever!
A romantic life is the dream of many a guy and girl since long
Though success is rare failures they are ready to face and die!
poem by Bikramjyoti Kashyop
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Still Silently
I see a shadow
shining through the moon
there is a reflection
and it's coming through
I hide my face
a silhourette
in my window
pitcures burning of you
It's just a memory
passing me by
in the midnight sky
after a pouring rain
with troubles I can't forget
still silently
I'll wait one more day
I hear the sound of the wind
howling through the trees
with echoes of your voice
that whisper to me softly
just like jasmine
it was such a sweet smell
but it was just the pain
that took your place
still silently
I had to walk away
Their was a teardrop
that fell from these eyes of mine
as I stood on that montain top
watching ghost dance
off in a distance
as we died
still silently
we had to try
But what would it matter in time
when their was no other choice
I changed every direction
to escape your affection
such an addiction
still silently
I stood alone on this stage
I hear your name
still in the breeze
but I won't be coming home soon
sickened by your disease
turn yet another page
for a new destination
still silently
we feel the same
(spiritwind-2000)
poem by Spiritwind Wood
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Painting an Inch Thick
The paint on my face is peeling
Too long without a fresh coat to
Cover up the blemish of mistaken
—identity—
People will see through
The raw, exposed grain of flesh
Much too real for
Aluminum-sided strangers
Weathering storms in happy hamlets
Hailing golf balls bouncing off
Simulated walls, chuting through
Spidered spouts of infantile
Disregard.
(Previously published in CER*BER*US, # XLVI,2002)
poem by Laurence Overmire
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Don't
Don't fall in love with a poet
for they will melt your heart
and there is no escape, you see
for romance is their art.
Don't try to vie with a poet
for words trip from their mouths
as easily as quick silver
that lines the darkest clouds.
Don't tell a poet your secrets
for very soon you'll see,
they'll write them as a metaphor
upon a paper sea.
Don't make a stance with a poet
for you don't stand a chance
they'll sway you with emotions
and words that sweetly dance.
Don't fall in love with a poet,
however they endear,
for strong romantic gestures
will conjure flowing tears.
Don't fall in love with a poet
for life will surely change
but oh how happy you will be
to have it rearranged.
poem by Ruth Walters
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(It Was) A Very Good Year.
My minds image of my Ellen
Is like a rose preserved from time.
Or like a treasured bottle
from a vintage year for wine.
I am haunted by her memory-
How our fingers intertwined.
The fragrance of her body
as I held it close to mine.
I was Mars and you were Venus
your head rested on my chest.
A summer rain began to fall
persuading us to dress.
Now just the shadow of your smile
Brings tears to a dry place.
Funny how my heart can race
Within the ghost of your embrace.
.
You are unchanging, therefore perfect
Your aspect is divine.
I believe our year was vintage-
for love, if not for wine.
(Fifth poem in the Ellen cycle, A summer picnic at Planting Fields, Arboretum in 1979. It was a picnic, marked by a brief rain, where we shared a bottle of Mouton Rothschild)
.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Blood Hate Reaps Damnation Souls
thermal imaging night vision fog soups
violently blinking are blind ghost eyes
lost human souls drift isolation herds
who hate dark flayed carcass flesh?
who whipped crushed love emotions?
who thorn wove their bitter crowns?
who pinned hopes pierced hearts?
who mad shredded empathy compassions?
who torn sacred symmetry spun souls?
pitch black dark weep landscapes
stand blind herd ghost lost souls
none can see into another's eyes
blood rain drips from bitter hands
hate crimes were life bitter deeds
blood hate reaps damnation crop souls
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Lost in the Oceans
lost in my oceans of tears
no family, friends nor dears
the sky is a ghost, love is a falling leaves
lost in the oceans of tear
the home is far, and hug is scar
the heart is April, eyes are flaring star
lost in the oceans of tear
where live is fade and love is paid
when friends are dead and words are said
lost in the oceans of tears
yet I found the beauty
when your eyes became snooty
lost in the oceans of tears
where you rose high in the hell
and deep beyond an ell
poem by Mohammed Sabbagh
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In The Name Of Love
Heaven is a state of mind
Hell is nothing more than pain
Only you can make me feel that theyre both the same
Lying with you every night
Lying to you every day
Howd I let myself get trapped this way?
So I do it in the name of love
Only going through the motions
Every time you reach for me
I just do it in the name of love
Lately, I could be a ghost
Drifting up and down these halls
I used to know what kept me here
Now I dont recall
I wish I had the strength to leave
I wish I had the heart to stay
I wish I could disappear today
Still I do it in the name of love
Only going through the motions
Every time you reach for me
I just do it in the name of love
Used to think that I could make a difference
I was so naive
Once your loving used to drive me crazy
Now I just make believe
Heaven is a state of mind
Hell is nothing more than pain
Indecision keeps me here
Try and pass the blame
This is how our life is lived
This is how our life was lost
All thats left is just to pay the cost
So I do it in the name of love
This is how our life is lost
Every time you reach for me
I just pay the cost
Oh, lately I could be a ghost
Drifting up and down these halls
I used to know what kept me here
Now i, I dont recall
So I do it in the name of love
Only going through the motions
song performed by by Tiffany
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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She sat upon the floor...
She sat upon the floor
Looking through a pile of letters,
She took them up and tossed them
Like so many cold ashes.
She took the familiar pages
And gazed at them strangely,
The way souls look from above
At their discarded bodies . . .
O, how much life was in them,
Life irrevocably lived!
O, how many bitter moments,
How much love and joy now dead! . . .
I stood silently aside
Ready to fall on my knees,
And I grew terribly sad,
As if in the presence of a dear ghost.
poem by Fyodor Ivanovich Tyutchev
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Don't Fall In Love
Don't fall in love
Girls gentle and sweet
For love is nothing but sweet nothings
An evening blues and colorful soap bubbles
A Rainbow avenue and romantic feelings
Thoughtless words and emotional verse
Poem Of Love is not splendor but a blunder
It will take you through romantic street
And desert you at the end with sorrows and tears
Hence girls gentle and sweet
Please don't fall in love
poem by Kavin Charalan
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Parent Child
Every poem is an individual
A song with its own music
Its own unique voice
Its own particular way of expression
Suited, in form and style, to its own
Particular taste
Give it room
Allow it to breathe
Allow it to be different
From what you’d expect
And if you’re lucky
Sometimes it will surprise you.
(Previously published by The Stroll of Poets Society, July 2000)
poem by Laurence Overmire
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To An Old Friend In England
WAS it for nothing in the years gone by,
O my love, O my friend,
You thrilled me with your noble words of faith? —
Hope beyond life, and love, love beyond death!
Yet now I shudder, and yet you did not die,
O my friend, O my love!
Was it for nothing in the dear dead years,
O my love, O my friend,
I kissed you when you wrung my heart from me,
And gave my stubborn hand where trust might be?
Yet then I smiled, and see, these bitter tears,
O my friend, O my love!
No bitter words to say to you have I,
O my love, O my friend!
That faith, that hope, that love was mine, not yours!
And yet that kiss, that clasp endures, endures.
I have no bitter words to say. Good-bye,
O my friend, O my love!
poem by Francis William Lauderdale Adams
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Hauntings
In the grey tumult of these after years
Oft silence falls; the incessant wranglers part;
And less-than-echoes of remembered tears
Hush all the loud confusion of the heart;
And a shade, through the toss'd ranks of mirth and crying
Hungers, and pains, and each dull passionate mood, -
Quite lost, and all but all forgot, undying,
Comes back the ecstasy of your quietude.
So a poor ghost, beside his misty streams,
Is haunted by strange doubts, evasive dreams,
Hints of a pre-Lethean life, of men,
Stars, rocks, and flesh, things unintelligible,
And light on waving grass, he knows not when,
And feet that ran, but where, he cannot tell.
poem by Rupert Brooke (1914)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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