Bri's January 2023 [ Part One Of Two Parts ] Showcase Of Others' Poems From P-H....[ Sharing; Time-On-My-Hands ] Poem by Bri Edwards

In the 'Add New Poem' instructions PH says 'Take a deep breathe',
but it should say 'breath' [rhymes with death], so I now DO grieve!
It's a grammatical error, one even (I think) 'Bri' has made in the past,
AND I'll bet my high school English teachers would....now be aghast!

Ok, this site is NOT perfect, & partly due to that some poets have left.
I was fond of some of them and now I, Bri, am missing them. I'm bereft.
And some of 'them' were PH fans of mine. I am missing that aspect too.
I hope I'll keep the fans I've still got, and get new ones, .....maybe YOU?

This usually-monthly (not last month) 'showcase' has been here for years.
I think some poets (not many) will miss it, though NOT be reduced to tears, ...
if I give up it up completely and say 'Bri, it's no longer worth my toil and sweat.'
What do YOU think, Readers? That NONE will shed a tear, ... I'm inclined to bet.

(January 1st,2023)

bri edwards

(poems to follow....when they are ready to follow)

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1 -

A Sign From A Butterfly

Poem by Jayne Louise Davies

Those beautiful red roses,
Looked so pretty in the sun,
I placed them on your marble stone,
Touching each and everyone.

Although you may not see them,
I brought them just for you,
And when the early morning comes,
They'll be touched by dew.

Two butterflies flew gently past,
Your final resting place,
I felt that you were there somewhere,
With sweet smile on your face.

I felt a sort of warmth inside,
Not feeling sad at all,
Knowing you were by my side,
My finest friend of all.


Sunday, November 13,2022

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2 -

About Me

I am a little springlet
That has fallen
Into the great ocean of poetry
And has lost its identity

Still, I enjoy
Flowing with my fellow poets
Wondering at the rare jewels
That light up the dark ocean floor


Ruta Mohapatra

Wednesday, October 11,2017

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3 -

Still, I Wonder

The world seems a strange place tonight.
I feel as an alien
in a foreign land...
I sit, where I oft do, out-of-doors, alone,
participating in the sunset.
The air familiar and cool.
The view a beauty understood.
The birds singing the old song of wonder.
The dusk becoming.
I have been here, it seems, so long...
yet, I don't know this place.
I can't get myself to feel I belong.
Just when I think I can look all about me
and know where I'm at,
the sun sets.
It's dark,
and I find myself still,
in an unknown world, wondering,
where is home, for me?
Where is home, for us all?
- I set my old chair
against the wall,
secure in the evening,
I say, 'Goodnight ol' friend'
to the full moon;
walk back into the dwelling,
a chagrin between walls,
a discomfiture under a roof.
Safe and sound in sleep and survival,
and yet so still, I wonder...
I wonder,
where is Home?


Smoky Hoss

Saturday, October 15,2022

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4 -

Corners

Last night, Lisa, Peter, Leeza and I were in her father's 50th floor study watching New York City. It's a corner room with glass walls from floor to ceiling. He likes to watch the city himself and has a small,5 seat sectional couch facing the view.

The left wall window looks across Hell's Kitchen to exactly where Sully Sullenberger crash landed flight 1549 in the Hudson river (it was 3: 31 pm and no one was home) . The right window overlooks Central Park and Upper Manhattan. Lincoln Center, almost dead center of the corner, looks like part of a toy train-set.

The view is a wheeling, ever changing and mesmerizing panorama. Well lit ships, barges and boats move glacially against the ink black Hudson. Jets in expressway-like holding patterns (Newark Liberty, and Teterboro airports left window - LaGuardia, right window) blink, like waving angels, helicopters buzz below like insects and the traffic, far, far below, forms a living chain of red and white lights which can erupt with nugatory hues of police blue at any moment.

While we watch, we're playing a game of 'Would you rather.' It's a game of situational trade-offs, like 'Would you rather listen to the same 10 songs forever or have to watch the same 5 movies forever? Of course, most people say the movies - because they last longer and there would be fewer repeats.

We take turns asking these critical questions - pausing, occasionally, to point out things below.
'Would you rather be in a crowded elevator with a bunch of noisy high school students or pinned in with a bunch of judgemental, middle aged men? The girls chose the students, even though high schoolers can be mean. Peter chose to be with the men.
'Would you rather find your true love or a suitcase with 5 million dollars? ' We all chose love.
'Would you rather hike or camp? ' Both were unpopular if they involved going to the bathroom outside - which creeps the girls out.
'Would you rather give up your computers or your pets (forever) ? ' THAT was a stressful one.
.
.
My movies: Clueless, Rushmore, Moonstruck, Shakespeare in love, Dr. Zhivago

anais vionet

Sunday, November 20,2022

Topic(s) of this poem: university, friends, games

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5 -

Housework

Not one of my multiple
personalities enjoys housework,
they don't give a fig about it,
don't fuss or shout about it
but wait until the dust builds up
and love to write their names in it.
Lazy, Carefree, Sloppy, Messy,
Grubby, Dirty, and Sneezy,
who has an allergy to dust.
The seven slobs.


Ruth Walters

Wednesday, January 27,2021

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6 -

I'll Still Go On Loving You

The autumn breeze that gently blows,
I hear the sound of early birds,
And as I look towards the sky,
I try to think of gentle words,
Describing how I feel right now,
Contented,
Warm,
Relaxed with mind,
And all my worries drift away,
Leaving sadness way behind.
My love for nature's giving way,
To yearn for you,
Won't change a thing,
I must go on,
See what life brings.
And still I'll go on loving you.


Jayne Louise Davies

Monday, October 17,2022

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7 -

The Ways Of Stars

See those stars twinkling so high in the skies?
Some are sad stars trying to avert their eyes,
They've observed lovers who have parted ways -
To keep from crying they must turn their gaze

And those stars displaying faint hues of red.....
Don't know if it's true, but I've heard it said
Love songs and poems tend to make them cry,
And cause these soulful stars to blush and sigh

Now each star's assigned a task to perform,
To create galaxies, many must swarm;
Stars must grant favors when they're wished upon,
Should they fail their tasks, their light soon grows wan

And such stars will be expelled from their berth,
The Lord God sends them careening toward Earth;
It's not clear what offense they've committed -
Perhaps they were lax, or just dimwitted

But how lucky is the star that hovers
And twinkles in the bright eyes of lovers!
Their satisfying task never grows old.
(With stars in our eyes, love never grows cold)

If love has found you, then you have been blessed.
If you're still searching, don't give up the quest;
And when love tears down despair's prison bars,
Don't forget to thank your lucky stars!


Lora Colon **

Sunday, December 6,2020

Topic(s) of this poem: love

** [ Bri's Note: Lora is one of my alltime favorites, EVEN THOUGH she has moved on from PH, AND almost all (if not all) of her many poems are about LOVE! ! ! ! ]

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8 -

Musings Of An Octogenarian

Sometimes my mind wanders
and I think of random thoughts,
such as:

Why do we park cars
worth thousands of dollars
in the driveway
or on the street
and fill our garages
with worthless junk?

And why do we park in a driveway
and drive on a parkway?

Why do we sing
'Take me out to the ballgame'
when we are already there?

Speaking of which,
why can't the Dodgers,
with all their talent,
win another World Series?

Oh, wait...
they just did!
Their first since 1988.

Why is the third hand
of the watch
called the second hand?

If Barbie is so popular,
why do you have to buy her friends?

If swimming is so good for your figure,
how do you explain whales?

Why do we say 'after dark'
when it is really
'after light'?

Why is the time of day
with the slowest traffic
called 'rush hour'?

How is it that one careless match
can start a forest fire,
but it takes a whole box
to start a campfire?


Cowboy Ron Williams

Thursday, October 29,2020

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9 -

A Piano

Sometime I wish I had a piano
In a long list of wishes may be another addition
Or if my pen was a piano key
On lazy afternoons of summer
When touched softly
Its music would break the silence of this room
The languid humming of air conditioner
Would mellow in its sweet sound
The colors esoteric in nature
Ascending through air reaching to empyrean
Would shower upon me in sweet paean
I do laugh at the idea though
That sounds so perfect in phantasmagoria
The trill coming out of the keys
Would probably be as smudged and muddled
As the writing coming out of this pen
Backed only with a dull desire or inclination to write
When would I realize that the pen or the piano key
Both are substitute for my inability
To sit quiet and enjoy the stillness.

Savita Tyagi **

Monday, July 16,2012

** Bri's Note: Savita is another favorite of mine, more for her friendship than her poetry.
And she is still on PH! She gave me her phone number when my wife and I were planning to drive through Oklahoma on our way to explore the 'Carolinas', but Savita was spared a visit from us as her home was not on our route. :) I deleted her # eventually. Lucky 'girl'!

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10 -

For Little Vyomi

Your innocent eyes
Soft rosy lips
Your pink skin
Even your baby- cries
Make me forget
That I am an alien **
In this foreign land
Though beautiful
Somewhere there is
Hollowness
Which I try to fill
When I lift you
Into my arms
Hi Vyomi
I feel only
A bundle of happiness
Just so beautiful!

Bharati Nayak

Saturday, December 3,2022

** Bri's Note: 'Make me forget That I am an alien In this foreign land'......I believe Bharati is writing about lifting an infant relative while she visits her son in California in the USA. Bharati would be an 'alien' here. ;) bri

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11 -

I Wish I Was A Woman

** [ I, bri edwards, almost decided to NOT include this poem. I suspect it will be rather controversial, though I don't shy away from controversy! Some of the author's 'contractions' aka 'shortenings of words' may give some readers trouble. This poem could prove to be difficult for some readers to understand and/or accept. YOU don't 'have to' read this poem. Heck, YOU don't have to read ANYTHING in my showcase! Ha ha! ]


There are times in life
When darkness is so thick
Times in life
When tidal waves touch the sky
Hard n' extraordinary days
When it rains so hard that my rivers flatten out in floods

All the time, my efforts mus' tower ‘bove the hills
For my sails to fill up with the winds
For all mine's ther; I'm the bank
In hers, my share's God's mercy
I mus' provide n' protect;
For it's thought divine, as if I've a choice

When she carries pregnancy, she's congratulated
In child birth, she's celebrated as a hero
For child support n' sustenance, I'm the cash dispensing machine
Children're hers in all times, only mine when hit by a tempest
In old age, they all gather around her
Maybe that's why she lives longer

Her public nudity mustn't be condemned; her body her choice
When I do the same, the law comes in high print against me
I dream of day where I won't be responsible for my deeds or words
Like a small child, cry for what aughtn't been mine
When I get it, cry for the manner it was handed to me
A day I'll anticipate evil in every shadow n' action n' scream ‘discrimination'

I wish for a day I'll be abused n' call it freedom
For such a day where a fool'll work while I control their money
Such a day where after enjoying sex, turn around n' claim rape
A day where I can kill the unborn n' claim ‘my body my choice'
Yes, I wish I was a woman
And have the whole world on my side n still believe it's against me!

@28 November 2022

Phillip Nine Mafunga

Monday, November 28,2022

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12 -

Funny **


'It's just a rough draft, '
he said with a laugh
but the joke is half epitaph.

I know I'll regret it
this helping him edit
his thesis, this knife,
that will cut through my life.

Somehow, it's become real
this part of the deal
where my dear Dr. Peter
will vamoose from our theater
where I've acted like I could go on
when I return next year, and he's gone.


anais vionet

Tuesday November 29,2022

Topic(s) of this poem: challenges, changes, romance, teen, future, university

** Bri's Notes: I feel I should give some background for this poem. I have read several of anais vionet's 'poems'/stories about events taking place at her university while she is an undergraduate student having a romance with an older 'graduate student', Peter. He is about to earn a PhD degree and probably will be leaving the university, leavinig anais physically (at least) . I've assumed her stories are true, and she doesn't say otherwise. She and I agree that 'Funny' is, in this case, better defined as 'strange/peculiar' rather than as 'causing laughter'. I sincerely hope that her other friends at 'Yale University', including several other female students mentioned in her stories, and her parents will be available for advice and other types of support if anais asks for either.

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End of Part One of a Two-part showcase for January 2023. ;)

Please NOTE WELL:

I, Bri, am not (NOT) superstitious! I'm not 'afraid' of '13', the number.
But I'm going to start a 'Part Two'-showcase [lest some of you slumber].
I'm faced with a big backlog of poems [I've rated highly] which are waiting,
...(since I had no Dec. showcase) ...to be read by YOU & receive 'your rating'!


[ to be continued IN 'PART TWO' of my January 2023 showcase ]

bri edwards (on PoemHunter) aka Brian Edward Whitaker (in 'the real world)

Thanks to all contributing Poets and to all Readers. Please pick up all your trash
and dipose of properly on your way out of this site. Thanks. bri ;)