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  • Avellina Balestri (5/1/2014 11:46:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    The Flame of Autumn


    The dawn chill of autumn
    Causing fog at the mouth when we speak

    The pale sun
    Turning the spider webs to crystal dream-catchers

    The corn drying crisp and crunchy on the stalks
    Forming a maze for children

    The amber hay bales
    Surrounded by a haze of particles

    The old barns, chipped and decrepit
    Like haunted houses on the hills

    The heavy mist in the valley
    Hiding the trees that turn from gay green to elegant orange

    The goldenrod
    Holding their blonde heads high in the fields

    There is so much life, and yet beneath the surface
    The sting of death threatens

    The bite in the air suggests it
    Piercing clothing to make one shiver

    There is a stillness settling over the earth
    Like the first or last day in history

    The birds’ songs are softer
    Like Elfin lays lamenting a fading glory

    The color of the leaves is bursting bright
    But will soon turn to blood, wither, and fall

    The moments seem to crawl by
    Like the spread of frost across a window pane

    The nights come suddenly, like a thief
    Without the summer sun to ward them off

    They are heavier now
    Like the winter blankets taken from attic chests

    My soul is burdened
    By an awareness of aloneness

    As empty as a jack-o-lantern
    With a nightmarish expression of despair

    As hollow as the eye-sockets
    Of a moldering skull

    As meaningless as the echo
    Of cawing crows flying over the pumpkin clusters

    I long for fire instead of ice
    For understanding instead of confusion

    For the embrace of loved ones long gone
    Instead of my own arms braced against the cold

    But most of all, I long for God

    To ask to feel the presence of Him
    Is a thing that is known to wound

    Agony comes with ecstasy
    Even for the saints, among whom I hold no place

    Brilliance is blinding and searing
    When it pierces the smothering blackness

    But I would take it, nonetheless

    Sink me into fire, plunge me into ice
    But do not let me wander alone in shadows

    Let us have a place all to ourselves
    Where I can lay my head on Your breast

    Where I may hear your voice whispering
    Out of the gentle breeze, no longer chilling

    Let us be lover and beloved in the depth of the night
    And let not my own self separate us

    For You are the Love of Loves
    The delight of all things, the breath of life

    Let me at least tend the wounds
    That I caused you to receive, as a handmaid

    Let me feel the peace that comes with fullness
    For an instant, to light the winter’s dark

    Be the flame of autumn in this changing, chilling world
    And in my trembling heart

    It is all I need

  • Yash Shinde (4/29/2014 3:12:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

    Dear honest critics, I seek your reviews on this one.....

    ##To bosom thee.....I'll Rise...##..

    He was before his beloved,
    Kneeling on his thighs……..
    His shoulders down,
    With soulful cries…….

    Slid down his cheeks, like shiny pearls,
    The tears that his doleful eyes did shed….
    Was held in them a vision of his mistress,
    Who lied helpless in her cold deathbed….

    Bowing his head, lifting hands in plea,
    Breaking the silence, quoth he-

    ____”Once bound with the essence of thee
    ____I now wash the coast like a restless sea”
    ____”Powered by love my heart did bore,
    ____I’ll trace your impressions on the sandy shore….”

    ____”Turning stones time does flow,
    ____a model of valor, should you lie so low?”
    ____”your mellow fragrance in the darkness behind,
    ____tell me my precious, where will I find?”

    She raised her eyes, deep as a sea,
    In a soothing voice, quoth she-

    ____”See the alluring florets of rose that,
    ____bloom opening their carmine lips, ”
    ____”With a mellow scent, they invite,
    ____butterflies to deliver a kiss…..”

    ____”In blossom of rose you shall see me,
    ____that blooms with the kiss of thee..”
    ____”Amongst trodden hopes and dismal cries,
    ____like the sun of hope I will rise! ”

    ____”Thus like a rose dwelling
    ____in the eyes of thee”
    ____”In curls of petals,
    ____You shall find me…”

    With his blood hitting his veins like an edgy sea,
    In a painful voice quoth he-

    ____”Every blossom does wither with time,
    ____every Bonnie creation someday declines.”
    ____”In the withered remnants dispelled behind
    ____ tell me my love where would I find?”

    Wiping the tears his had shed.
    With calmness of a sage, his beloved said-

    ____”If you wash the shore like a restless sea.
    ____in spiriting rivers you shall find me..”
    ____”Which through meandering turns do make their course,
    ____and cut through boulders to reach their source…”

    ____”Like a river unifying with salinity of the sea,
    ____I lose my soul, and ally with thee..”

    ____”If like a graceful dove you’ll appraise the sky, ____
    ____like a breeze from the surface, I’ll rise” ____
    ____”Like a phoenix that rises from ashes to life, ____
    ____to wipe your tears from dust I’ll rise”____
    ____”Like an angel that dwells in heavenly paradise, ____
    ____to empower the oceanic tides, like moon I’ll rise”____
    ____”In my portrait I’ll live that dwells in your eyne,
    ____Like a fragrance that scents I’ll rise” ____

    - - -”Search me not the remnants behind,
    - - -But in the stillness of your soul, me you’ll find”
    - - -Mortals do vanish, true love never dies…
    - - -To bosom thee, from dead I’ll rise….

    ______________________

    The pearls slid smoothly over his facial curls,
    And wet the still heart that bore his name…
    The silent heart of a sacred soul,
    Dipped in the bloody tears, pious it became……


    Copyright © Yash Shinde 2014

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  • Herbert Guitang (4/26/2014 4:46:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

    One poet is trying to edit my poem in his suggestion

    Just A Friend

    Someone you can talk to
    A person you can share with
    The one who can care with you
    Somebody who will be concern with you

    Someone who can understand you
    A person that gives you attention
    The one who can share your affection
    Somebody who can accompany you
    in the storm and in the heaven of your life

    Someone who can make a distance and give you space
    A person with no creepiness and cleverness
    The one with no strings of attachment
    Somebody who is not special, but a simple
    and ordinary “angel” of your life

    Not a best friend
    Not a girlfriend
    Not a boyfriend
    Not a mutual friend

    Only Just a Friend
    herbert guitang

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  • Herbert Guitang (4/26/2014 4:46:00 AM) Post reply Stage

    One poet is trying to edit my poem in his suggestion

    Just A Friend

    Someone you can talk to
    A person you can share with
    The one who can care with you
    Somebody who will be concern with you

    Someone who can understand you
    A person that gives you attention
    The one who can share your affection
    Somebody who can accompany you
    in the storm and in the heaven of your life

    Someone who can make a distance and give you space
    A person with no creepiness and cleverness
    The one with no strings of attachment
    Somebody who is not special, but a simple
    and ordinary “angel” of your life

    Not a best friend
    Not a girlfriend
    Not a boyfriend
    Not a mutual friend

    Only Just a Friend
    herbert guitang

  • Alan Browne (4/25/2014 5:05:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

    [ edit poem ]
    Desert Sands
    Desert sands, hovering around my watery eyes
    Broken skin and a sore buttocks
    Courtesy of my camels back.
    While trodding along the sandy path.

    Sand dunes burning from the desert sun
    My skin is almost fully cooked,
    My camel turns and smiles and says,
    Are you my friend having fun.

    Beatles hauling camel manure,
    Over the sand dunes and through the day,
    Il assume he sleeps well, or she,
    Under the starry desert sky they ll lay

    And i will do the same, sleep under the starry sky that is
    As i ponder and wander, while connecting the stars
    Smoking marijuana in my bed made of sand.
    Waiting for my day to end.

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    • Shobana Gomes (4/28/2014 1:18:00 AM) Post reply Stage

      You have brought out the wanderer of the Desert Sands quite well here punctuating between the heaviness of nature and the wanderer. It has good imagery to it as well with an added humor of the situat ... more

  • Alan Browne (4/23/2014 5:35:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    Grandma said


    Grandma always said, 'This too shall pass.' I think of this at three am when the cat is kneading the spare pillow on my bed. If I was to die tonight I think I would like to come back as whiskey. Just as strong and just as necessary.

    Potent, yet oozes of strength and class, the way Grandma was. Though if I came back as a cat, that would be just as good, cute and cunning and limber, no matter how far they fall they always land on their feet, sounds ideal.

    Like Grandma always said, It will pass, we just have to ride the lightning, outlast It, but the woes just keep coming and coming, seems like that’s all there is sometimes, seems like the only time they will stop is when I will stop.

    As I stare at the ceiling, cat scraping the pillow, I think to myself, I want to come back as a dog, not a care in the world, lives from one meal to the next, and an occasional walk, that is the way life is supposed to be, nice and easy

    Whenever they are met with grief or despair, It’s like water off a ducks back, I want to be like that, not dwelling on the past or worrying about the future, contempt with chasing their tail. Maybe we humans are the real mutts, dealing with all this nonsense.

    I wish I had a hundred small problems, so it could take the focus off of the real on-going ones that torment on an hourly basis. It’s now 4.15 and I am still not asleep, I have got dry mouth and the cat keeps pacing on my bed.

    Grandma oh Grandma, call unto me, my tank for this life is running near empty. Grandma oh Grandma, call to me now, my hour is before me,
    call as you know how. Can you lend me your Aura, just for a while, to see me over this difficult time? I remember you bouncing me, up on your lap, sipping on oval tine; this takes me aback, to happier times, till we meet again.

    The sun is lighting the corner of my room, the cat is asleep. It’s now just me and my problems, oh what to do. Grandma’s voice was still in my head, saying, this too shall pass, this too shall pass, then I replied, THATs ALL THERE SEEMS TO BE, THATS ALL THERE SEEMS TO BE.

    Then fight your way through it, said a voice inside me, even if it keeps getting worse, keep fighting, and fighting, till you can’t fight anymore, don’t go quietly, just stand up and fight, scrape your way back till you find your way through, thank you Grandma, i know its you.

  • Alan Browne (4/23/2014 5:33:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    Through the Colored Skies

    Through the skies that I glide,
    And to the left of my lay,
    Was the bird’s wing, and a colorful gaze.
    The oceans of sky were Curtained by clouds,
    To the right were a passenger thinking aloud.

    I sat in my seat with no thought come to mind,
    As comfort and solace flooded my eyes.
    I looked to the colored skies of blue white and beige,
    With past visions and specters away far away.

    Unknown to me, I arrived at a dream,
    Were glorious visions and fantastical scenes.
    While I wallowed in the heaven’s, there happy and free,
    Then suddenly wakened to the sound of reality.
    The colorful skies had all faded to black,
    With the trials of life came tumbling back.

    As the large metal rod lacerates the night skies,
    Readying for the journeys imminent demise.
    I sit in my seat listening to the turbulence roar,
    Now comfort and solace are with me no more.

  • Alan Browne (4/23/2014 5:32:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    Broken bones, tormented souls,
    and everything in between.
    Bound to bed, or head filled with dread,
    One as bad as the other.

    Besotted with hate, or riddled with aches
    The black dog has many forms.
    Among us many beings, sometimes blind
    unto our seeing, the banes we come victim to.

    Anxiously calling for the decks reshuffle,
    praying for god to deal again.
    Out of the dark and into the light,
    a vision that might never be.

    While we live near par, unsure of who we are,
    there is only one expression that fits the picture.
    Your health is your wealth and nothing else,
    truer words can never be spoken.

  • Alan Browne (4/23/2014 5:30:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    Sad Clown

    Laughing on the out
    Crying on the in.

    Smiling and, jocular.

    Running around in
    their size sixteens
    throwing cherry pies,
    jumping on the bouncy castle

    Everyones friend.

    Behind the painted mask,
    the Poker face reveals its hand
    eyes soaked in sorrow, joys
    blocked by stagnant woes,
    chiseled into the walls of their mind,
    Elusive demons at their door
    Relentless till there is no more

  • Alan Browne (4/23/2014 5:28:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    The Garden

    The Nettles and Ivy lay hand in hand,
    Mingled with the garden flowers.
    Kindred and cosy in their patch,
    While luring prey to their web.

    The creatures with a thousand faces,
    Welcome all into their acre.
    Handpicking the ones that will serve them best,
    While discarding the eels from their rod.

    They lay in wait for their golden goose,
    Then contemplating when to slaughter.
    Brazen faced to no extent,
    A mere vacuum behind the eyes.

    Superlative to all, but to themselves,
    As they live to serve just one master,
    Morality and trust are merely tools,
    Cunningly used for a just occasion.

    The exception of which is commission based,
    Shortly before an evaluation,
    The question lays to you in wait,
    Is can you hear the sound of thunder

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