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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Related quotes
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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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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Franks 2000 Tv
Risin above the city, blocking out the noonday sun
It dwarfs the mighty redwoods and it towers over everyone
I still remember when that delivery truck came down our block
What a lucky guy, I hear he got the last one in stock
And the neighbors are just green
They say, thats the biggest screen weve ever seen!
Its franks 2000 tv (franks 2000 tv)
Everbody come and see(franks 2000 tv)
Franks 2000 tv (franks 2000 tv)
Thats franks remote control, you can look, but dont touch it, please
cause franks the one in charge and he decides what everybody sees
The pictures crystal clear and everything is magnified
Robert deniros mole has got to be ten feet wide
Everybody in the town
Can hear those 90,000 watts of dolby sound
And Im mighty proud to say
Now I can watch the simpsons from thirty blocks away
On franks 2000 tv (franks 2000 tv)
Everybody come and see (franks 2000 tv)
Franks 2000 tv (franks 2000 tv)
Everybody come and see (franks 2000 tv)
Im gonna get one of my own real soon
Its like having a drive-in movie in your own living room
Whoa, hey now... hey now na na na now
Hey now... hey now na na now
Franks 2000 tv (franks 2000 tv)
Everybody come and see (franks 2000 tv)
Franks 2000 tv (franks 2000 tv)
Got a two year warranty on parts and labor
Franks 2000 tv (franks 2000 tv)
Franks 2000 tv
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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2000 Miles
Theres something I need to say
Im not sad youre gone away no way
Wont be calling information
Or waiting at the railway station
You walked out of my front door
I wasnt then but now Im sure
I need to be at least 2000 miles away from you
2000 miles away from you
2000 miles away from you
2000 miles away from you
2000 miles away from you
Had to get me to the church on time
To say that silly I do I do nursery rhyme
Youve been bitching at me for awhile
Say hey now baby dont you cramp my style
Dont go beating me like that
Im glad I wont be coming back
I need to be at least 2000 miles away from you
2000 miles away from you
2000 miles away from you
2000 miles away from you
2000 miles away from you
song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pinnacles
Only a couple of rungs from the top
He fell
Down into the chasm of his
Truest self
The giddiness of the heights
Cooly reflected in the stillness of his
Finally present mind
Able to reject the folly of false illusion
Rivers breaching dams
Rocks pouring out of mountains
Trees taking shape with new limbs
Rich with the fruit of
Wisdom
Feet planted at last
In heavenly stench of saturate Earth.
(Previously published in Kookamonga Square, July 2000)
poem by Laurence Overmire
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Maybe The Trees
Maybe the trees have lost their eyes
And the wind its wicked wisdom
The sand sifts through the glass
Unnoticed
The rivers cry in the dark phase
Of an old moon
Hear me, O Sun
Give life to the branch
Soil to the root
Fast water, graceful rain
A rising tide to wash away
Sorrow
We must emerge
Together
The upheaval of a great mountain
Through stratified rock
A peak of glistening snow
To claim the heavens as our
Own.
(Previously published in Autumn Leaves, July 2003; World Poet's Society, July 2006)
poem by Laurence Overmire
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Making every planet an earth
the wish to be a poet
in Tang Dynasty China
who had written
'1500 years from now
you can have the
literature of the world
at your fingertip the
size of a jade pendant'
the wish to be a poet
2000 years from now
who would write
'the wish to be a poet
of the year 2000 who
had written '2000 years from now
you can make an earth out
of every planet in the solar system'.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Unplugged
To be disconnected
Pulled from the wall of
Family relationship
Unable to fire electrons
Up and down thin
Conductors, no grounding
For a live wire
Spinning out of control
Lethal shock
Without warning
Unclaimed bodies
To litter a house
Built on unreasonable
Expectation.
(Prev iously published in Zinos.com, July 2000)
poem by Laurence Overmire
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July....
July is the month where the families get the barbeque grills fired up.
July is the month where the night sky is light up with fire works.
July is the month where many families go out of town to be with family.
July is the month where many kids are dreary because it’s a month away for school.
July is the month where America gets to celebrate its independence from England.
July is the month where many people are dying of the heat of the summer.
July is my favorite month because it’s the time that I get to be myself around my family.
poem by Natasha Ligons
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My Heart Is In July
shifting away from June's bud
to leave dandelions scattered in the yard
this dawn of July
marks the end of a lie
a lie from past season
for a strong reason
in July
robin will make herself shy
and cover her reddish breast
with her celestial hued crest
then flap her wings to fly
close against the sky
i want to kiss July
and make July
lasting forever
in beauty but not ephemeral
i will preserve July
on my canvas and with magic brush
so that she will be enthralled and blush
i will paint July
with charming colour
so that she will be captured in delight
and her soul enraptured
because my heart is in July.
poem by Niji Chrys
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Tree Frog
The tree frog
sits
on a green leafy branch
and stares at me with bright orange persimmon eyes
and a goofy expression that says,
“I’m a tree frog, what did you expect? ”
His yellow gumby-like legs
and bulbous sticky fingers
are poised and
ready to jump
straight out of the calendar
and onto my keyboard.
Ah, the things that go through your head
when divining for inspiration.
(Previously published in Creative Voice, Feb.2000)
poem by Laurence Overmire
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athem for the year 2000
We are the youth
We'll take your fascism away
We are the youth
Apologise for another day
We are the youth
And politicians are so sure
We are the youth
And we are knocking on death's door
Never knew we were living in a world
With a mind that could be so sure
Never knew we were living in a world
With a mind that could be so small
Never knew we were living in a world
And the world is an open court
Maybe we don't want to live in a world
Where innocence is so short
We'll make it up to you
in the year 2000 with...
Never knew we were living in a world
With a mind that could be so sure
Never knew we were living in a world
With a mind that could be so small
Never knew we were living in a world
And the world is an open court
Maybe we don't want to live in a world
Where innocence is so short
We'll make it up to you
In the year 2000
Build it up for you
In the year 2000
Make it up to you
In the year 2000
Build it up for you
In the year 2000 with you
Never knew we were living in a world
With a world that could be so sure
Never knew we were living in a world
With a mind that could be so small
Never knew we were living in a world
And the world is an open court
Maybe we don't want to live in a world
World who cares at all
We'll make it up to you
In the year 2000
Build it up for you
In the year 2000
Make it hard for you
In the year 2000
Build it up for you
In the year 2000
Make it hard for you
In the year 2000
Build it up for you
In the year 2000 with you
song performed by by Silverchair from neon ballroom
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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2000 Light Years Away
I sit alone in my bedroom
Staring at the walls
Ive been up all damn night long
My pulse is speeding
My love is yearning
I hole my breath and close my eyes and dream about her
Cause shes 2000 light years away
She holds my malakite so tight so...
Never let go
Cause shes 2000 light years away
I sit outside and watch the sunrise
Lookout as far as I can
I cant see her, but in the distance
I hear some laughter,
We laugh together
song performed by by Green Day
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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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For All The Poets
FOR ALL THE POETS
This is a poem for all the poets who have no name,
For all those who have written and failed,
And for those who have not written,
And failed.
This is a poem for all the poets who dreamed themselves poets,
And were never, and will be known as poets
To the world.
This a poem for all those
Who after years of effort
Still live in an oblivion
They will die in.
This is a poem for all those
Who whether they have poetry in them or not,
Will never be heard or read,
For what their hearts must tell
Someone else.
This is a poem for all the silent poets
Those who live in silence
And whose silence is eternal
For all those whose only poetry
is the poem they have lived within themselves.
This is a poem for all those who would- be poets
And a poem for those
Who despite their efforts
Did not make their poem known.
This is a poem which may be for you,
And I know is for me
A confession
To make us less alone.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Mr. Baggot
Mr. Baggot is a very successful man
Stocked and bonded, nouveau Richelieu
Belongs to the club, leisurely suited
To playing golf and drinking iced
Tea with just a hint of lemon.
His conversation, properly edified by a prestigious
Eastern school, revolves around the
Pressing issues of the day:
Why, for example, must a grilled cheese
Sandwich be outrageously priced at
Three dollars and ninety-five cents
When a slice of cheese costs only a nickel?
Summoning the waiter with a demanding
'Hey you! ' nameless, faceless lad
Who nods submissively to the
Punishing invective, assures Mr. B
He will not be charged, offering
Profuse apologies for slandering the
Integrity of his wallet.
Satisfied, the Baggot snorts through
His nose, relishing the spoils of
Another three dollars and more
Out-classing the opposition with the sheer
Force of a dominant will.
'Heh, heh, ' he chuckles
Laying down his napkin
Leaving a quarter as a generous
Tip.
(Previously published in CER*BER*US, XXXIXL, July 2000)
poem by Laurence Overmire
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It Was July
I am resurrected, after dying for want of you,
It all came down upon me in sunny July,
Where had you gone, I wish I knew,
That I care no more, should come as no surprise,
I can live without you now,
It's like I never loved you at all,
The numbness seeped in after my death,
It was in July, if you recall,
Things were fine in May and June,
I don't know what I did wrong,
But in July you sang a different tune,
And you left me all alone,
My heart once again belongs to me,
As I look back to last July,
The sunshine once again I see,
No tears to cloud my eyes,
So let me stay as you left me,
I won't even say goodbye,
You're now a fading memory,
But I'll never forget July,
poem by Vallerie Lobell
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The Sunny Months
Poets write of May and June,
But seldom mention warm July,
And August is neglected too
Is this because few words will rhyme?
July and August spell out summer
When children play upon the sand,
Away from lessons ~ life is joyful,
Free from teacher's binding hand.
September is a lovely month
Leaves take flight along the lane.
Summer's over, back to lessons
School friends smiling once again.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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The Weaving (Love Poem)
July was always the month for me. I cling
to July as if there are no doubts about
July. I feel human enough and animal enough
in July. I identify with those harvests flying
just above the rock walls, and then bursting
from themselves into the ground, into each other.
I'm talking about a plain garden with apricots
and lemons, where the cicadas play in the sage but never
show their watery guitars. And what is that harvest
all about? Their music is a harvest, an overflowing
harvest, whether those musicians and their instruments
are visible, or not.
I'm saying I have everything in July. I'm saying
that July is the birth of it. July
the spiders born in the camellias. July
the hummingbird and the olive―
and that's Linda Janakos' hummingbird
asleep in her lap, that's Linda Janakos' olive,
the one with the breast inside of it.
This is what my sister stitched
to the weaving inside her brother's head.
poem by Doren Robbins
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